The Husband Post

Regular readers will know of Husband. He gets frequent mentions in posts, mainly due to being my significant other and travel companion, so that the events I’m involved in tend to involve him, too.

When you think of how detailed and intricate individual personalities are it’s surprising that any relationship endures beyond a week or two, let alone years. But, given a moderate number of interests in common and similar backgrounds after a few years people grow alike. I could never imagine sharing a small space like a camper van for weeks on end with anyone except Husband, and while we do have differences of opinion [who doesn’t?] we seem to manage.

We did not meet as fresh-faced teenagers, up-and-coming twenty-somethings or even high-achieving thirties career people-no we met as world-weary forties veterans of previous marriages and relationships, so the entire enterprise was a triumph of dogged hope over experience.

First impressions are telling. When we met, on a cold winter’s night in a pub, the attributes in Husband’s favour were:

  • His open, friendly, unpretentious, chatty manner.
  • His offering of crisps alongside the glass of port he bought.
  • His brown, leather, lace-up shoes. Men’s shoes are crucial to a first impression. Had he worn trainers, reader, he’d have been put down to experience.

During the first weeks Husband was unerringly persistent [in the face of my haphazard lifestyle at the time-another story]. On the way back from one of the first dates, his car [a Vauxhall Astra with a coat hanger for an aerial] developed a flat tyre. Without hesitation he pulled into a lay-by, whipped out the requisite equipment and changed the tyre so that within minutes we were on our way again-and all this late at night, too!

Husband Facts:

  • He is a devoted fan of Gloucester Rugby
  • He was a keen runner when younger, ran a number of marathons and now enjoys walking and cycling, except in cold weather-when his hands get cold.
  • One of his favourite activities is pottering about making what he calls ‘modifications’ to his pride and joy-the van.
  • He is a domestic god-and does not shy away from such chores as hoovering, washing windows and cooking.
  • He likes old rock/blues music, in particular The Rolling Stones but is not a fan of cinema. [He can be persuaded to watch a Bond film on occasion].
  • He likes beer [also red wine].
  • He is Dr Husband, having completed a PhD, post degree, a label I’m always hoping to capitalise when booking airline tickets but as yet with no success. His thesis, leather bound and languishing, as it has for years, on the bookshelves details his many experiments coating grains of wheat for some obscure purpose. I’m sorry to say I have not been able to read it.
  • Despite his impressive qualifications in botany, the number of garden plants Husband is able to name would fit easily on to an average sized postage stamp.

This weekend Husband is reaching a ‘milestone’ birthday. It is probable that he will be grumpy about this post, but that is a risk I’m taking and hope to be forgiven. For those who follow and have read of him, here he is:

Graham train

Happy Birthday Husband-here’s to the next adventure!

 

Mind Changing

Husband, in his blunt, down-to-Earth, masculine way, considers that I change my mind with the weather. And it is true that to procrastinate, to wax this way and that may be seen to be a negative trait. It could be construed as dithering.

But to change your mind need not be a bad thing.

You can change your mind about people. Impressions formed at the beginning of a relationship [I’m using the term broadly here, not just for partnership] may alter as you get to know someone and learn more about their behaviour. I have come to grief in the past from forming an opinion too hastily!

Changing your mind over intentions can be annoying for others. Politicians are inclined to do it, frequently angering large swathes of the population. These procrastinations are often termed ‘U-turns’ and are part of the UK’s folklore, if not anyone else’s [‘This lady’s not for turning’ springs to mind]. Our current leader is no different.

I grew up with my father’s staunch labour party views, although it became clear as I grew up that his left wing leanings were of the champagne variety [or at least of the cheap Spanish plonk sort]. My mother towed the party line, following my father’s views and rarely expressing anything but his opinions.

As a student I inclined towards the left, taking part in marches for the miners during the early seventies even though it was more in a spirit of gung-ho than in any deep understanding of the issues. Residing as I did in halls of residence, I rather enjoyed the three day week with its blackouts which prompted us to light candles and trip around as if our long, hippy skirts belonged to a bygone era.

In the eighties I was persuaded to join the Greenham Common protests, another leftist protest, albeit with a feminist slant and I found sisterhood empathy to be a pleasing, empowering sensation, especially since I was at the time a somewhat beleaguered, unwaged, stay-at-home mum. Whilst I only took part for a day, to help with an encircling of the camp, the shared sentiments stuck and reinforced what I’d felt since reading Marilyn French’s ‘The Women’s Room’ years before at college.

The return to work, the transition to a single mum and the acquisition of my own house were all events that continued to shape my views, however I realised that living in the comparatively wealthy South of the UK gives little opportunity to change local voting results. During the last few decades I’ve attempted tactical voting by choosing lib-dem-[a lost cause here and one that last time allowed the Tories to sneak back in. Husband is fond of reminding me of it].

Since I’ve now accepted that it’s pointless to try a tactical vote I’ve opted to place my cross where my heart lies. This is with the Greens. I have no expectations that they will ever be required to form a government in my lifetime but hey-I like their policies and this, reader is what matters.