Newly Bare

I had a different day today: I was covering on the inpatient unit. It really isn't as steadily busy as my outpatient clinics; neither is it as satisfying. I would say that the bulk of the work on inpatient psychiatric units has become not the seeing and treating of patients, but ratting around finding or clearing beds to shuffle people between, and dealing with the ofttimes illogical requests or suggestions made along the way by those whose jobs are based simply around shuffling numbers representing people, rather than around dealing with those actual people.

Anyway. It was a day, and not a bad one, all told.

Not a photographic one though; I got home without a photo. Casting about for one, I decided to take this, of an area of our front garden which struck me as I walked in the gate. On the weekend, I cleared this space. In it, as well as an awful lot of awfully-long grass, were a number of iris/lily things, some of which I recall flowering, others I'm not sure. Hard to recall really, as the little ones were offspring of the big'uns. The big ones, despite having somewhat nice flowers, were a massive pain by dint of the way they hung out over a good half of the width of the path - and also the way they made it very hard to weed the garden bed properly, as the grass grew in and around them with great growingness. We decided then, that they were coming out. With much sweat and bother, they did get outed. The plan is now to get a second weeping cherry and put it in - so we'll have one on either side of the path, which will be lovely when they're both in bloom.

So, here 'tis. Processed in Camerabag, with its "Portrait" preset, but I pulled down the amount of mono-ness.

Still haven't started the next Song of Ice and Fire book (that being A Feast for Crows); I finished Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep (very cool; rather odd), and started The Chemical History of a Candle - which is a collection of lectures by Michael Faraday. I don't know that I can hold out much longer though: it's got me hooked really bad. Literary crack, or something. ;-)