It was my birthday. I turned 32. Nan's funeral is scheduled for the 15th of September as they all have holidays booked. So she sits rotting in a morgue for 36 days. Everyone is fighting over money. I even have vague dreams about what I might get and then feel a little bad.
We had a community fun day at work that I organised, it went well. Welshy is in Serbia and I had a very bad day yesterday.
I have done some small gardening and went to Willowtree. The lady who owns it is selling up so we went for a last look.
Nostalgia. The first place I made friends, Like P and E. A place I have known and felt at home since I was 6. The place that inspired a lifetime of horses, memories of mini-adventures, laughs, sadnesses, horses that I've known and loved, tears and loss and regaining of confidence around horses. I always thought it would be there. I hadn't visited in I don't know how long. 2009? 2010? The place was run down, hardly any horses, hardly any staff. Standards slipped - never ever would we have left an empty haynet in a stablefloor with a horse.
I hit a car at the stables I visit now. I fear it to be an expensive insurance job - apparently both sides of the bumper need replacing not just the side I hit?
They all had a party there and I wasn't invited. I tell myself I don't mind but I'm a little hurt I didn't get invited. My paranoid self tells me its cos no one there likes me. Real me tells me to stop acting like a child and oversights happen.