2 headed shark attack....

.... is the name f the film I'm currently watching. Its as amazing as the name suggests.

Anyhoo, today I went to see my pony friends hooved and footed. And here's the questions(s)

1. Where would you draw the line at, for riding I mean. I love it more than anything else in the world ever. But, when do you say its time to stop? My Mum quit after her car accident, she can't risk any more damage to her back and neck. But she misses it greatly. One of the Instructors at my old year broke her back falling off onto a pile of bricks. She was warned that any more damage could result in her being in a wheelchair for good. But she still rides. I wonder if it was me, whether I'd carry on or quit. Riding's an addiction pure and simple. A guy today fell from a horse, not the horses fault. He was doing a stretching exercise and simply lost balance and slipped. Turned out that he recently recovered from being in a wheelchair. Wouldn't that make you think. Yeah. I'll stay away from high-risk sports. I wonder if something like that might make me quit.
2. Do you think animals can feel guilt? Or shame? Or is that anthropomorphising a bit? I ask because when this rider came off and was paralysed unable to move, his horse stayed by his side. He could have wandered off anywhere, but stayed a few steps from his downed rider. The instructor was busy with injured man, so I nipped into the school and grabbed the horse. Poor Bo, instantly buried his head in my armpit and just looked so sorry and guilty, I had to keep petting him to cheer him up. 

My beautiful ship is all fixed again! :)
Remember this?

Its now repaired and back to normal. Opens again to the public on Thursday. 

I love *my* ship :)

Its a bit ridiculous that after a 10 hour sleep, and having been awake for just over an hour, I'm ready to do back to sleep.

I'n sure people told me there was a drought in the UK. How comes its rained virtually every day since we've been back?
This is all deadly familiar. Applying for jobs I fear I won't get. Feeling desperately unqualified for everything. Looking at jobs and dismissing them. I felt like this when I returned from Derby. Do you remember? Feeling lost and lonely and missing what I had.
Mum keeps on at me to go back to the NMM or apply for shop work, I don't want that. But there's that niggling feeling that perhaps thats the best I can aim for.
Welshy scorns me. Tells me I'm pathetic for feeling this way. How can I tell him when he doesn't understand? I don't want to. Am I imagining all this and being stupid and girly?
I don't want to go and work in the City and commute. I hate that. I feel it raising my blood pressure being jostled and pushed by busy rushing people.
I wish I could get a decently paid job locally and not commute. I want to leave London and not return. I want to be secure somewhere and not leave home and be forced to come back within a year or so.

This gloomy weather gets me down. I need to snap out of this and readjust to being at home again, being dependent on Mother's whims and moods. Convince myself that she's wrong and I can do more than what she expects of me. And wait for Welshy to come home and see what happens.......

Home again...

I don't even understand what's going on with Blogger now.

Anyway. I'm home from Spain. I'm absolutely heart broken about this. I love that Bumpkin Town. I love travelling 14 hours to get home. I love walking through the town square and being besieged by kids calling me.
I miss 2 euro bottles of wine and the honesty system in Anai, which led to us racking up whats possibly a 50e if not more bar bill because we kept forgetting to pay. I miss warm freshly made bread from Ogipan. I miss crazy people singing and dancing on the streets at 6am.
I miss three day weekends and I miss going to Calahorra for riding. I miss the sheer friendliness of the people. And the insanity of fiestas for Domestic Pets.
So why am I home? Two months earlier than planned?
We resigned. Our boss was crazy, forgetting to pay us, paying us a LOT less than what he initially promised when we left the UK. He dropped classes on us with no warning, meaning we had no plans ready. He interrupted classes and insisted on talking Spic to them.
Cracks appeared in mine and Welshy's relationship. We bicker a lot, but our arguments became serious. Drunkenly several times we discussed ending it. Sometimes I felt like there was a distance and I couldn't talk to him like I've always been able too.
It was hard. We're both independent people, we both drive each other crazy and we need our own space from each other. Suddenly we couldn't do that. We worked together, we lived together. We had no other friends, we couldn't go out without each other. The only break I got from him (and vice versa) was when I'd go for an hour to do a company class, or when I went for 3 hours on a Friday to ride.
It was stressful. He decided we needed to come home for our sanity, for our relationship to survive. Our boss had taken out a small argument with me, out on my class of 4 year olds, nearly reducing them to tears.
He blamed Welshy for him having to take a class, and both of us going home. That Welshy should have checked and confirmed this class with my boss. My boss has been taking this class since Feb. Three Months. As far as we were concerned there was no mistake with the timetable, but my boss felt there was. Conviently forgot that it was his class and then blamed us for it.
We fought that night and on Wednesday two weeks ago, I woke to the sound of Welshy writing his resignation letter. Mine followed shortly after. Our boss ignored the emails even though we knew he had read them and on Friday we were on holiday in Lisbon - a beautiful place - and we forced the issue, offering to go at the end of the week, to not work a notice.
Monday night we got the reply that he would meet us at 8am and discuss it. Tuesday 8.45, he knocks. We sign our resignation letters and that was it.
We took a weeks holiday in San Adrian and then drunkenly, sadly returned home a week ago.

So now what? I don't want to go back to the NMM. Welshy doesn't want to go back to Car Counting. So we're both signing on and applying for many things. The mother is pleased/angry that we are back, take your pick. She keeps talking about how she cant afford to keep us and how we need to do work about the place. Chores. I bite my tongue and try not to remind her that The Brat lived for a year on the dole and didn't pay rent, how he never helps about the house and how he can't be expected to help now as he's working, but yet I was still expected to do chores while I was working. Nothing changes there.....

I want to go back. I miss the lifestyle, the bumbling struggling attempts to speak Spanish. I miss going to different Spanish cities. I miss going to Camp Nou and the Bernabau. I miss discussing the football with the little kids. I miss playing with my Toddler students. I miss the fact that we didn't go out on an evening until 2am, instead of coming home at 12 and thinking I've had a good night. I miss coming home at 3am and seeing little old ladies just heading out for their night of fun to get started.

I miss the dust, the boredom, the being bemused by the culture and eccentricities of it all.

Welshy is visiting Wrexham now, it will do us good to have this break from each other. We'll see what happens when he comes back.