The corellas were busy in the park again, this time hanging off a pair of conifers outside the Heritage Centre, busily showering passersby with chewed up seed pods and bits of tree as they (the birds, not the passersby) bounced on the springy branches like so many naughty children. I really must remember to put the camera in my bag. And there was a pair of swallows looping across the lawns at warp speed, inches above the grass. I was dizzy watching them, the flash of blue iridescence on their backs sparking in the wan sun, a rare sight on a day of clouds and rain showers with fragmentary moments of clear blue sky.
Of my visit, the reason I was walking across the park, to the Job Service Provider (who, in seven months of having me on their books, have sent me NO job referals. None. Not one. Nada. Zip. Zilch), I shall say little. Except: frelling government.
I'm 48, female, just finished a two year course in Visual Arts, and am now back in the market for a job (boo!). I worked in the library field for the better part of three decades and two years ago took the plunge from a job that made me unhappy to go back to school. I've loved every moment of it and as soon as I have enough money to tide me over being a poverty stricken student I'm going back for more!