Cush
Veteran
- Location
- North Cumbria but still a Geordie
It is strange; by the time you reach your 71st year, you expect your self to be calm and composed and not be worried about anything that is coming up, not like what you felt when SWMBO was ready to give birth but delayed doing so or when you helped daughter to wait for her Uni application results. Yet here I am; I know I should get out and do my annual ride over Hartside, I know I should get on with both the back and front gardens, which are getting out of hand but I cannot be hassled with either. Why? Because on Wednesday I sent off my application to study for a Post Graduate Certificate in Creative Writing at Newcastle University and though I know that I will not get an answer for at least a week (maybe longer with the recent disruption there) I am like a cat that is watching a nasty boy with a catapult and will be until I get a yes or no result. Neither will be life threatening but "Yes" will mean twelve hard months of intense writing and expensive. "No" will mean bashing the tarmac with the bike for a few hours and then maybe settling down and getting a Rohloff geared bike.
Ah well just have to try and calm down.
Ah well just have to try and calm down.