Oh ok, not about bikes (although it SHOULD be) but I awoke this morning with an email from “Tickets for Troops” I applied for a ballot of tickets for the British Grand Prix on July 6th with the usual trepidation (and obviously resignation). I only bloody got them 🙂 so ringing the number provided, I confirmed them AND a car pass. So that’s that weekend sorted, I hope. I. Taking me camera obviously, let’s see what the actual tickets get me into 🙂
Well the meeting with the local housing group went hugely well, I mean if I could have a high five, I would get one from this meeting. The woman in charge, (no names no pack drill) was one of the most helpful people in officialdom I’ve met yet. (Mind you, she did mention an email from the local council leader MP dude) no matter, she seemed very willing to help. It was also my intention to have the guys from S.O.T.S, and sure enough, they we’re there to help me out with the legal jargon and questions. Without them I would bed up in a hole in the ground………again.
Now I came back to my sisters In the back of the S.O.T.S van (I haven’t been in the back of a van in years, didn’t help they took a few wrong turns, and I felt my usual travel sickness) another meeting with these guys to fill forms for the council and the poorly side of things. All went well, right down to the fact that a reporter from the Sunday times wants to call me and write my story about how I’ve been treat since being back in the country with PTSD. Let’s see how that goes. I’m hoping if it gets out there, that it WILL help others who WILL go through the same struggles as I have.
So things are looking up (or at least better than they were a few days ago. Even the sun is shining now, and I can smell bacon 🙂 oh hold on, why can I smell bacon? Have I left the oven on?…… Nope, oh well, it must be the neighbours (hopefully I’ll have my own soon) okay then, it’s time to go as the yardarm is whatever yardarms as supposed to be when it’s past tiffin. May the beliefs you hold, prove fruitful and the nay Sayers bugger off 🙂