Tears and a Nuthatch!

In the 5+ years I've been noticing my garden birds, I've only ever seen a nuthatch visit the feeders once, until now. To my delight, the above beauty (not really shown in all its glory due to the ropey photos) has been visiting the feeder daily for the past 3 days. Hopefully I'll be able to get some better photos at some stage. Nuthatches seem to be quite elusive around here. I've only ever heard them a handful of times in the local woods and caught a glimpse of one once. So, I'm chuffed to bits to have one come into the garden.

Apart from the mood-enhancing Nuthatch (I wonder if you can get those on the NHS?!), it's been a fairly tough week. I spent most of Monday and Tuesday in and out of tears for various reasons. I'm very disappointed by the rehab set-back. The strained muscles/tendons(?) attached to my pubic bone are still stinging and strained, and the bike work I did last Sunday didn't help. I'm having to be extremely careful not to aggravate the injury, which means no table tennis, no pool work and no cycling. And, I have a horrible feeling it's going to be weeks yet before I can get back to exercising.

I guess I've been completely baffled (again!) by how fragile my muscles/tendons etc are. I cannot comprehend how, after nearly 2 years of solid rehab, I can still cause myself these kinds of injuries with so little effort. I just don't understand it. I'm extremely careful to increment my level of effort and activity at a pace that's safe, and yet, here I am, feeling like I'm back where I started! Every time I think I'm finally making progress, getting stronger, more resilient, something happens to undermine it. There have been times this week when I've wondered if my musculoskeletal system is responding at all to the rehab. Maybe my mind says 'I've done x amount of exercise so I should be stronger/fitter' when in fact there's something fundamentally wrong, like a lack of growth hormones or something, preventing it?! (Yes, I know, at times, keeping things in perspective proves a little tricky, lol).

I went to sign up for my pottery class at the local college on Tuesday. They informed me that they had cut back on the number of courses where they offer a concessional rate. Instead of the £30 I'd budgeted, I was going to have to pay the full price of £210. I burst into tears and left. If they'd told me this in May I could have saved up for it but instead they just sprang it on me. I know I won't be the only one effected.

The great thing about reading Adrian Mole, The Prostrate Years is that how ever bleak your life feels, Adrian's is ten times worse and he still survives. I finished the book last night.

Note added 26/09/2010: signed up for the pottery course and just hope that the car sails through its MOT/service in January!