This Monday before Christmas seems to be melting before my eyes; sky the colour of dirty socks, the colours of the garden dull and muted. The air-tight seal between the double glazing has long since stopped being quite so hermetic; streaks of condensation make the rain and garden look mist streaked and soft focus- that and not wearing my glasses.

Son has his music theory test right now at Drum Tech, in London for a place on their degree course. My phone rests on the table besides me...

Who knows, is it the right thing to do?
A degree I mean.
So much money, or rather so much dept.

I can't say that I noticed the pull to get into dept; having had to walk up and down Harbourne High street, trying to sell the jewellery my mom had given me as a result of my then husbands Access card dept, made it easy for me to ignore loan offers from banks.

Meanwhile my dad was drinking himself to death.

Ex-husband would have to buy at least three of the same thing in a quest to find the perfect one and upgrade any tech as soon as any upgrade became available.

Early adopters beware!
New tech is always expensive and new for a day.

So student loans and all that schizophrenic stuff about how it is fine for young people to leave university owing twenty-seven thousand pounds, but jobs must be cut, efficiency savings made because the country has borrowed too much money..

Oh, message from son.
He has a place...