I'm off to see CL in the morning and I've just got back from riding. I'm rather sweaty, dirty and covered in pony slobber from a over-friendly welsh cob.
But I want to talk to you about my ride. Its so hard for me to explain this to non-riders. The work and partnership that happens. How every leg, angle, bum, arm and finger movement signals something to the horse.
I was nervous tonight. Last week, I was overhorsed, too tall for me too ride, although if I wish to be a good rider, I should be able to manage these as well as horses my size.
He bolted with me, bucked and reared. I lost stirrups, my balance, thought I would fall off, although I didn't. I rode the horse through his mischief. Made him follow my albeit shaky commands.
Made him realise I was in charge. Not him.

Its been a week since my last lesson, and I was nervous, I am a nervous rider although when I am on and the horse is being naughty, I can ride through it. I know what to do, its the "what if's" that hit afterwards.

WE went for a trot through the woods, did some schooling in the large field and then returned to our schooling area. And my pony was sweet, although eager for action and not always willing to stick to my pace.
But I marvelled at this, at how half a tonne of horse does what I want, because it wants to make me happy. How we make them circle and go sideways and its all unnatural for them. But they love to make people happy.
And I marvelled about how instictively my body reacts to the pony's actions. How when she saw a paper bag and wasn't sure what to do, how without thinking I applied the leg to make her move forward, reassuring her that it was fine just through that motion.
How when she stepped sidewards to avoid going close to an abandoned trolley, how again my right leg pushed her back the way I had her lined up, how I made her shuffle on the spot and turn on the forehand when she was waiting to go and figity.

I love horses. I love their smell, their beauty and their actions. I love how despite being scared, I can ride through my fear and ride correctly. And I love how the partnership works, they do their best for me and I do my best for them and do it all without thinking.

I aspire to be a good rider and jump four foot fences one day. To go around Badminton X-country and ride a GP dressage test. But most of all. I dream of being a good enough rider to have my horse to want to do something to please me, without my even telling it, thats what we're going to do. And I'd love everyone to have this skill, those moments of happiness and freedom and have the joy from riding that I do.

I've had a shitty week or two at work. Apparently despite having spent 4 years looking at my collections in the galleries I still don't have enough knowledge to sell books based on them. Fuck that anyway. Same money, more hours.

I'm looking at holidays again, the Flight centre have an Asian Sale on, Bali or Hong Kong for under £400. Not sure if that's return or not, have emailed an question to find out. The good thing about my new rosta is that if I plan it on the right week, I can take a weeks holiday for 3 days rosta.
Trying to talk Welshy into some enthusiasm for the idea. He's thinking of going to Vegas with his friends so would rather do that than Asia I think... I might also go to Grotty to see Mum when she goes out for the Summer hols, again trying to work it out with the three day pattern.

Dear R... I'm so glad you've remembered me and came to visit. I hope you are well and the in between years have been kind and that you didn't get too sick on the Ferry crossing.

I have never been so angry as I was today. Leastways never so angry without hitting someone or something or angry tears.

I was in charge of one of the sites, all well and good, done it hundreds of times before. A group came up from down the hill to do lift rescue training, I was on the afternoon group. So they turned my one and only lift off. No worries. Barriered off, no confusion with the public. Its all good. Or so I thought.
I was summoned by one of the Seasonals as there was a disabled elderly group needing to use the lift to go down to the loo. And I mean Elderly, all at least in their 90's as the Care LEader told me. All differing forms of mobilty.
Needing to go downstairs. Holding themselves to prevent "accidents". So I radioed over to my manager who was leading the training, explained about my group and asked to put the lift on for me for a moment.
Request Denied.
So I had to lead this group of people who could hardly walk 300 meters out of the building around and down to the staff entrance. It took me 15 minutes. I was cringing with embarrassment for them and that I had to do this as my manager was being a cunt.
I let them in, showed the faster moving group to the loo and then waited for the zimmerframe two to catch up.
One went into the disabled loo but the other simply couldnt wait. So I checked the ladies was empty, showed her in with her carer and promised to guard the main door so she could wee in privacy (being unable to shut the cubicle door.)
So two ladies with kids showed up, I explained, they were good as gold about it.
Another lady storms up with her son.
"I NEED to use the loo. My son needs a poo."
I explained, never thinking that this would be a problem, I mean people deep down are decent, understanding. Right? Wrong.
I told her that there was the gents next door. Big mistake.
"I AM not letting my fiver year old son use a gents toilet unaccompanied! What kind of mother do you think I am?!"
Erm... I've guessed.....
So I explained again about the elderly lady, asked how she'd feel if it was her parent.
"There is such a thing as equality for all!" Boomed BitchMother. Shoulderbarged past me and forced herself into the loo.
I was outraged. I could hardly speak, I wanted to go in there and scream at her, but I was so concious of that old lady, pants around her ankles and her obvious embarrassment, that I didn't want to add to her discomfort by going in there and shouting and screaming like I wanted too.
Some how I held it all in, I opened the main door to let the other waiting ladies in, Thanked them loudly for their consideration and common decency and then took my OAP's back to their group leader. I genuinely don't know how I did that, when inside I was shaking with rage, rage that people could be so unfeeling that they didnt care that I had to shuffle them a long way when all it takes is to press a button to work a lift. That people didnt care about the rights and dignity of the older generation. And yes I was thinking about my Nan, and how I'd hate that to happen to her.
Everyone said when I told them that I should have said X or Z, called a manager, but I knew that I couldnt have said anything without completely losing my temper or ending up getting into trouble for abusing a member of the public and to call my male manager to the situation would have made it 10 times worse.
AAARRRGGHHH. In the words of The Who "Hope I die before I get old."

I'm tired. I'm tired of being The Entertainer at work, at picking up all the dirty boring jobs no one else wants. I'm tired of job hunting and not seeing anything I want to do and being told that I can't work in other departments as my four years of staring at the Collections means I don't know enough about them.
I'm tired of being poor. I'm tired of worrying about money and I'm tired of living at home.
I wish I was more thick-skinned and could laugh of every hidden insult. Every time its insinuated that I'm an awful person, I wish I didn't take it to heart and try and be a better person.

I'm tired of Welshy's inability to grow up and look for real work and I'm most of all tired of trying to buy nice plants and tidy our garden up only to have cats and squirrels rip up all of my efforts and money.

Think I need a Holiday.... Roll on June and my week in a Teepee!

I decided to go for that MSc anyway. If I get rejected, then it doesnt matter about the cost.
If I do get on... Well then I'll worry about the money, but honestly I'm resigned to another year at Mothers at least.

I got two confirmed tickets for the Showjumping part of the 3 day Event! As work is hosting the equestrian events, they were allowed to have some early and it was a bid to see who got them.
Yay me!
Only a week until the end of the entry and I can't wait to see if I'm successful in my bids, although slightly terrified about the HUGE sum of money that would come out of my meagre funds!

Welshy is in Wales this week, so its been nice having my bed to myself but I'm looking forward to seeing him again.
I'm off for a lunge lesson to work on more technical parts of my position tomorrow - riding wise - and I'm gonna see about having some private jumping lessons.
The last two weeks have been really good riding wise and although this week wasn't quite as good I'm buzzing over it all.

Today in work they were sifting applications for the job I went for in another department, so hopefully I'll hear back in a day or two.

Mother's in Lanzarote and had a few dramas with funds for her apartment but that all seems to be sorted now and her completion date is 6th June.

Yay.

I've found a really cool Equine Science MSc course that I can follow online from Edinburgh University's Vet School. I WANT to do it. I can do it part time over three years and make it a Masters or one year for a PGCert or two for a PGDip. The lady I spoke to on the phone sounded really positive about it, said She'd love to have me on the course, it doesn't matter that I've only got a 3rd Class degree, that my years of experience with horses would let me in as well. Problem. It'd cost over 3k a YEAR. My life savings come to just under 4k. I can pay monthly by direct debit, but I still need to earn an extra couple of hundred a month to cover it. I dont qualify for any scholarships and don't think the student loan peoples would care to pay for me for it. Nor do I wish to apply for a career advancement loan for it. I fear that it would just end up being a bit pointless like my Zoology is!

My uncle M came round on Thursday. He's always been the sanest and funniest of all my uncles, and has had the most common sense when it comes to dealing with my mental grandparents. Only. And I think i've bitched about this on here, is that over the last two or three years he's been distant, not helped.
I found out that in that time span he's suffered from three heart attacks and has been warned that another would be fatal, that his body would no longer be strong enough to fight it. That his heart is aged 25 years older than what it should be. He's in his mid-forties. Not sick enough to go on the heart transplant list, but sick enough to die at any moment should another occur. He's relatively healthy, doesn't drink to excess, used to play rugby, goes to the gym, scuba-dives, travels the world, rarely smokes.
Seems wrong.
Seems unfair that yet another family member is to be stolen from me.

Anyway, Mother also chose to disclose that when she was born she was very seriously ill and had a heart operation herself, although she never saw it as a problem after that apart from the fact that she has to beware of her high blood pressure (explains why the docs got so stressed about her possibly having a stroke after her car accident/Dad kicking the bucket.) Added to my Granddad's pacemaker and other uncle (one of her other brothers) having 3 almost simultaneous heart attacks, two of her sisters dying shortly after birth (she doesn't know what of, but now suspects that it also could have been a heart defect) and naturally she's a little concerned for the welfare of her children.
Could this be a genetic problem? Actually lets rephrase that. She's concerned for BRAT. Not me. I was told of this whole thing as matter-of-factly as if Uncle M was off to Thailand again. Brat MUST Go to the Doctors! He MUST now quit the fags that he says he doesn't smoke but it's obvious that he reeks of it! He MUST stop drinking. How best should we tell him? How will he take it?
Me? "You should consider how hard this is for Brat."
Oh. Gee. Thanks.

I was quite happy personally, thinking it was just gonna be the Cancer that carries me off in some dim and distant future. Now I've got Genetic Heart Problems racing up on the inside rail. Shall I go to the docs? Am I being paranoid? I've convinced myself I suffer from palpations. I asked CL for her medical advice and she seems to think that as my heart didn't explode from all the adrenaline pumping through it as I skydived/bungyed/etc I should be fine. M did all those things too. He was the one who encouraged me to do it, he has his DiveMaster PADI. (in fact his first heart attack came after he logged his 50th dive).

What about Marc-Vivian Foe?
She said, just to mention it to the nurse when I go in three months or so, for my magic-anti-baby pills. I feel caught up in agony that I'm losing another family member that I'm very fond of, guilt that I'm not as worried about Brat as I should be and fear that something could be wrong with me. Not sure I wanna go and waste the doctors time asking for advice when they have clearly properly ill people to deal with and no time for me suffering from hypercondria. Not sure I wanna wait three months to be reassured too.

I've just been out to my aviary to feed and water the birds. Only there's a wing on the floor. Well half a wing. Its definately a male grey cockatiels. But yet... All 9 of my birds have their wings and are flying normally.
My 3 males all have their wings. There's no blood on the wing, nor on a bird. Nor on the floor/walls.
Where has it come from? Its like its been amputated, but none of my ragtag collection of strays have beaks that powerful. And apart from a few little squabbles, they've never had a big fight that could cause injury.
Obvious answer - A cat somehow clawed one. But how is it possible that they're all winged and none are covered in blood.
Its like something from the X-Files.

I've been on a first aid course for the last two days. In Central London. Am not impressed as its cost me £15 quid just to get there in the last two days, plus I have to leave the house to get there by 7am. This is shocking. I don't normally get up until 7.30. And then battling all the commuters on the bus.. on the train... on the tube. Not the way I roll.
Still I passed which was good and hadn't completely forgotten everything I'd been taught and brought myself yummy cakes for after!

Just applied for £730 worth of Olympic Tickets!

F.U.C.K. Y.E.A.H.

I'm falling back out of the habit of doing this. Boo.

Anyway Tuesday was both mine and Welshy's day off so we went to Hampton Court Palace, it was pretty cool, we - I - got to wear a cool swishy cloak and we learnt how to play a Tudor game called Fox and Geese which Welshy won.
The maze was a little disappointing. I've heard so much about it in the past that I assumed it was like the largest in the country and the hardest, but we were in and out in five minutes! Maybe we just got lucky! I promised to take him to Hever Castle to their maze or the one at Crystal Palace.
We then went to see his little local team play a non league match against AFC Wimbledon, which they won 1-0. We used to go on playdates together a lot. I miss not doing that now.

I'm kinda debating whether to join a gym or not. I'm feeling a little tubby, and got breathless walking up a flight of stairs - which isn't good for anyone!
Only lets face it, i'm a lazy git and so unmotivated that joining will probably be bad for my bank account! We'll see!
Welshy had an interview today for a TEFL job in Bratislavia, which I have since discovered is in Slovakia. Not its own country. Its also 20 miles from Vienna.
If he gets it, he will either be gone for 6 months or 15. I can visit, if its the 6 month one and if its the 15 go there too once I get the savings up.

That's all the excitements I can think to tell you all of now.

Not a lots going on lately. Riding. Football both going well. Works the usual mix of madness and boredom.

I want a holiday. Although I should be saving and can't really afford one. Been invited to JF's wedding in May, gotta sort out leave and shit for that. Will probably stay with TP and TJ over the weekend.

So my session at schools finished.

I haven't changed my opinion of it, its ok. I could do it easily, its boring and repative! I made them all fish shaped cookes when I left, although it turned out to be the class spackers birthday and she had Tesco's finest chocolate cake brought in for her.
Bitch.

They've left me with a horrible lurgy though. Stupid children. I hate them!
Back to the NMM on Monday and try and get through till payday. Started saving now to TEFL it up. I feel I'm too old for doing that though, that its a thing I should have done earlier in life to avoid the real world. But there we go, I'll try and get some experience and then maybe re-apply for a PGCE next year. Or find something else.

Only 1700 to go till I can pay for it!

So my first week at schools gone ok, I think. I've been in a fiarly nice class with 7 year olds. Year 3. I did make a bit of a booboo on the first day showing up in jeans and trainers. My bad for not checking if there was a dress code!
No one really talks to me which makes it a lonely experience - well apart from the kids anyway - The teacher is on her first year after her PGCE so is a bit frazzled and still finding her feet.

I've been finding it kinda boring too. Interacting with the kids is fun but its just a bit repetative. "Is that really how you spell that? Why can't you shut up.... Do you need help with that.... What do you think is the right answer?" And so on.
I could see myself doing it, its easy shit although the teachers tales of arriving at 7.30 for work and leaving at 9 scare me slightly!
I'd get bored doing it too. Towards the end of the week, I found myself yawning and clockwatching, not really bothering to explain to the kids whats, what and giving them the wrong impression of how to do things (Hey they should have listened in the first place)

Friday was Bird day and I got to meet some hawks and pet a barn owl, which then landed on my knee! That was the best day so far and I have another week to go yet.

Friday was also Welshy's birthday and we went out, I got drunk and managed to lose my bank cards AGAIN. Such a moron.

I've fallen out with him today. I told him I don't want him home. He insists on playing cricket and then drinking with that prat we lived with last year. Yeah the guy that robbed over 200 quid from us, left me miserable most of the year, hiding in our room, the guy who's girl accused me of giving her cancer(!) and forced us to return home.

If he can condon and accept such behaviour I don't want him here.

I didn't get into uni.
I was pretty upset when I heard. Annoyingly apparently I got rejected by one of the unis on the day I flew out to Barca, considering I spent all day online that day, it's not like I could have missed the email. Too late now to phone up and enquire why I'm considered not good enough.

Tomorrow is my last day at work before I start this now pointless placement.
Still at least now the pressure's off. If I hate it, then I know teaching is not for me and to think up another plan.
So what now? Well I can try for a teacher Clearing place in March. I'm expecting not to find owt in that though. By April I think I should have enough to do a TEFL course. I plan on doing that, maybe a year in Asia or Europe, depending on Welshy and then maybe trying again for next year.
Who knows?!

Yesterday me and the N.M.M.C.A.S.C went up to Sheff to see us play Wednesday. We met H2 on the way which was ace and went to a bar or two on the way. Sadly A let me down at the last minute, meeting him, which was a bit of a bugger!
A little boy, about 7-9 was on the train up with us, and despite having a few cans on the way, I thought I had done a pretty decent job of controlling my potty mouth. Anyway as the boy clearly goes to football, its not like any of the words I used would be unknown to him...
As we pulled into Sheff station and I went for a last minute wee, a man apparently approached the boys and commented on my language.
Apparently I had made him blush and he was on the verge of coming over and saying something.

Silly cunt.

So here we are.
Happy Birthday Daddy!

We went down to the 02 for a meal at TGI Friday's. Nice enough.

Been very lazy this weekend, lots of lie ins and lots of naps. Slightly dull but nice.
There are ponies for loan at New stables. How I want! However at £70 a week, it's still far too much of my wages and I don't feel settled there enough to use the facilities like I would at Willowtree.
The people are lovely, the ones I have met so far anyway and I am going for a lunge lesson on Tuesday. I aim to improve my riding posture. I have fallen into too many bad habits, through sheer lack of regular riding. I want to move up a group and learn to jump this year, or at least for as long as I go there before something happens.
A lunge lesson, is kinda a backstep, I'll be on a giant dog lead (for want of a better description) and that means someone else is in control of keeping the pony moving on, and I can just focus on raising my hands, lowering my shoulders and lengthening my legs as I've always ridden far too short in the stirrup.

The boys went to see us play Spurs today. We lost 3-0. Glad I didn't go.

So here we are five years in...
Scary how time flies and how memories that you thought would stay forever start to fade. I remember that day, the call to work to say I couldn't make it in, sitting around. Not knowing what to say, to comfort him. The fear.
But I no longer remember his voice, I struggle to remember his healthy face, rather than the pale, guant, grey, cancer-riddled one.

This day, this week used to be something that I feared, that was to be endured and then we can all try to move on again, in our own ways. Now I feel its just a quiet, reflective time.

I miss him. I wish I could have had more time, I wish I could have introduced him to Welshy. I wish he was about, to tell my adventures too. But he's not. And now its time to get on with my life.

I have to explain this to someone and I know none of you ride but fuck it.
Was at my lesson last night and we were only doing a canter 20m circle from the A end to the back of the ride. Anyway, off I go, preparing to pop into canter at X, the midway marker.
When my little 14.2 l/w cob I was riding, stopped dead and popped in a bit of a buck. I yelled at him, belted his shoulder with my stick and he took two or three strides forward and then put in a massive effort of a buck. What a git!
I had this grim thought in my head, that I WAS not gonna fall off, wrestled myself back into the saddle, luckily I hadn't been too dislodged from it and belted him again and pushed him back into the exercise.
A friend of mine's bf was taking photos and there's this one, the only one that came out ok, of me doing some weird Rising trot movement, trying to belt him and stay sat at the same time.
Shame I couldn't get a proper picture, would finally show Welshy I actually know whats going on!

Meanwhile - Parky and Kinsella sacked?! What the fuck are Charlton playing at now?!

Tomorrow is the 5th anniversary of Dad's death. Not really thought about it much. Does that make me a bad person?

So here we are, a little later than planned but its my End of Year Review.

Definate Highs - India, Diving in Lanzarote and seeing the angel Shark, visiting Barcelona when I thought it impossible, moving out, my GCSE Maths result.

Definate Lows - Failure for Charlton to win Promotion, the Mugging (I still am a little jumpy walking that way back home), Getting my wallet stolen in Barca and Natwests refusal to provide me with my own money, the two housemates turning into the BIGGEST pair of fuckwits ever and pushing me and Welshy back home. Failure to get into uni. STILL being stuck in that shit job.

But last year was a time of change, doing my GCSE helped me get that step closer to uni, at least now I'm expectant of getting an interview and as I keep reminding myself, I now have a back up plan. All is not lost if I fail to get in.
I got a promotion at work so I'm on almost decent money. Living with Welshy is good, I like having him about all the time and I like having my time away from him.
Forming the N.M.M.C.A.S.C. Was great, I've made good friends with the boys from work and we go on our away trips together, rather than E letting me down.
E - I don't know. We're not as close as before. Sometimes I think she is jealous of me having Welshy. I am jealous of her jet-setting and I am jealous of The Usurper stealing my place.

This year is the 5th since Dad died - Imagine! This is a week to be endured and survived.
But I know, feel deep in myself that 2011 is going to get better. I know I will not wake up next Christmas and find myself still in this rut. I have made steps to pull myself out of it. Something will change and it will be for the better.