Kyu-te!

That's it, I'm officially old. My blood pressure is high. Ridiculously so, despite the lovely practice nurse chatting about embarrassing her children by booking to go to the IOW festival in order to relax me as she reset the machine twelve times in fifteen minutes.

Still, I came away with another script for keepmesanes (along with an appointment for the 2nd Jan to confirm whether I was still at risk of a stroke) and they've kicked in so I'm back on a relatively even keel.

Even enough, in fact, not only to cope with three assessments over two college days but to pass one previous failure and earn first attempt distinctions in the other two. These results have confirmed to me that, as a florist, I'm much more suited to wedding work than sympathy tributes.

My classmates were far less surprised than I at this outcome and I admit to being quite flattered that my peers, as well as the examining tutor, saw my stitching, wiring, taping and individual artistic detailing of intricate bridal designs as good enough to be a speciality within the industry.

Until, that is, I remembered that they'd all heard my portfolio of death / funeral / undertaking jokes and one liners during the course of the unit and that's when it occurred to me that this was less a vote for 'she's great at wedding work' and more a case of 'don't let her anywhere near a grieving widow for fucks sake!'

In other news I had a karate grading and gained my 1st Kyu. Next one will be for a black belt. And I heard on the grapevine (ok, at the christmas party) that I actually impressed my sensei during our sparring match. I'm a bit bloody chuffed at that.