I had a bit of an obsessive weekend. At least I did something socially acceptable, i.e., gardening, rather than, I dunno, paint little frogs onto the faces of babies I have kidnapped, then release them into the wild, saying 'Hop, my pretty froglets, hop, hop!' That did not happen. I gardened.

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I got my strawberries on Saturday. I carried them back to my house in a big box, and as I was leaving the castle grounds (Alnwick still operates according to a feudal system whereby all trade has to be carried out in the castle, with the duke. Except for Barter Books of course, which is so called because money isn't used this far north, we just swap things for things), I was passed by a (quite attractive) guy in Victorian costume, on stilts, who raised his top hat to me and bade me a good afternoon. Alnwick's a bit mental. I like it. On Sunday I bought Marnie the passion flower, to the right on this picture, but she's very wilty at the moment and I'm not sure about her chances of survival (tips welcome). I've ordered hanging planters for the strawberries though. So excited was I, and so keen was I to turn into my beloved comrade Rhian, that I sort of emailed a man about an allotment. I'm not too hopeful because I know waiting lists are looooong, but it would be great if I could get one. Not least because I need to plant my cauliflowers properly before the frost.
Also this weekend I did a bit of yoga to try and keep the back pains at bay, and finally completed my letter to the council objecting to planning permission for a MASSIVE PUB right by my house. In short, my weekends are identical to those of some at least three times my age, and I loves it.

On a related note, I discovered the term 'Catherinette' today. How I am trolled. It's not an affectionate version of my name, it's a term for a 25 year old (check) single (check) female (check). According to this French custom, I have until 25th November to marry, or else I get a party and a hat. I HATE PARTIES AND MOST HATS.
I'm being further trolled by my lack of Nexus 7. The delivery company's been 'unable to deliver it' because the parcel doesn't specify the name of my company, just the retail park (which contains three companies). Also, I double-checked the order information and I had, in fact, specified the company. And I only found all this out by tracking the order myself, they didn't actually bother to tell me any of this even though they had my number. THEY FAIL, but these are first world problems. I'm looking forward to getting my strawberry planters just as much, to be honest.
In other news, little Cerys, a.k.a my youngest sibling, starts secondary school tomorrow. I am worried. I'm so worried that I had to write it down on my list of worries, on which more later. She seems fine, though, even though in my mind, she'll come home tomorrow covered in tattoos and addicted to drugs I've not even heard of. She was the age I was when I met my friends from home. I've known those friends longer than she's been alive. She was born in a different millennium, is part of a different generation (Z as opposed to Y, officially, I think) and will be educated under a totally different government. It's weird to have a sibling that much younger, and it's even weirder to feel so protective that you would walk from Alnwick to Hereford to protect her from hypothetical mean older children if needs be. She'll be reet, though.I hated school myself, but Cerys is generally in her own happy world, and long may that continue.
TALKING OF HAPPY WORLDS, I've been doing my CBT for about a month now. One piece of homework is to write down a list of worries as they crop up throughout the day, and then suspend worry until a set point later that day, and then allocate yourself about half an hour to worry about the things on your list. It sound mental (lolz, I totes overuse that word but I'm allowed because I'm actually officially mental) but it works quite well, when I actually remember to write stuff down. Works less well for non-specific fears, so my therapist set me the homework of going into a shop and not leaving as soon as I felt stressed. I failed to do this. I stayed in a shop for a very long time, true, but it was a garden centre and I forgot to be stressed because I was obsessing over plants. And my therapist is so friendly and professional and normal that I can't really tell her this, nor can I tell her that I'm terrified of phones and spend the hours before our lunchtime appointments obsessing over 'OMG I have to talk on the phone argh I have to take a lunch break when I don't do that normally and find somewhere quiet at work to talk about how mad I am for half an hour ARGH'. But overall, it's going well. Sanity snacks only get you so far, you've got to put in a bit of effort at attaining sanity/the good kind of insanity yourself.
Finally, and this has turned into a very long post about absolutely nothing really, I was thinking of just trolling off to Copenhagen at some point in the winter. It depends a bit on what happens over Christmas and how much time off and money I have left to spend, but I want to visit Tivoli and frolic with the Danes. I could just go for a longer weekend and SEIZE THE DAY. AND SEIZE THE DANES. Also I wouldn't have to worry about leaving my plants for just a couple of nights. I worry about my plants a lot. I might have to put them on my list.

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