Stackalacka!

Momentary pause in the going-out-in-the-rain process to bring you this photo of stackness.

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Springy Spring Spring!

Lately, the winds have been really high, so much so that I haven’t done as much riding as I’d like. But the good news is that while I thought all the flowers were gone and we’d begun the green of summer, it turns out that that was only the first push. I lost the forsythia, the little red and white cherry blossoms, the daffodils and irises, all of those other yellow bush flowers but have gained the full, multi-blossom cherry trees, clematis, poppies, onion blossoms, bushes absolutely covered by what basically look like tiny daisies, I saw fuschia on my walk back from getting coffee (we were given a free bag of Monmouth and then it was forgotten at Wests, though all is not lost, it was recovered and is waiting for us in Twickenham) and there is every variety of English garden flower you can imagine. It’s exciting. I’ll have to try to get out and take photos.

The NHS finally produced an estimate and gave the boyfriend money to buy a new computer; thank god, because his was about to finally bite the dust. No one in that organization seems to understand the words Macintosh (unless it relates to rain gear) or Macbook, even though the PC and assorted extras they recommended he be able to purchase actually came to almost double what he ended up getting. But since it’s the NHS he still has to pay almost £200 out of pocket because they won’t let him apply the recommended amount to things other than what they recommend. Bull. At least he’s getting a new computer.

It appears that I may have to apply for a student visa to get all my immigration stuff sorted out – there’s a master’s level social work class that I’m interested in taking, it starts in September and I have to leave in August anyway, to go home and make a few bucks. Unless I defer my student loans I’ll be down to very few ducats indeed by the end of the summer. On a student visa, I would be allowed to work 20 hours a week. This means that I’d be getting my foot back into the social care pool two ways at once – doin’ some o’ that book larnin’ thing and looking for a part-time social care job. At the point that, say, 6 months later, my student visa expires, hopefully I’ll have had enough time to sort out the work visa issue once and for all.

Couple weeks ago I waxed my legs for the first time in ages and now every time my erector pili contract in order to retain warmth, stimulated by the pylomotor reflex, it feels like I’m being cut by a million tiny pieces of glass.

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