Sunday, 12 February 2017

Disco love...

The husband and I found ourselves alone this weekend.  Daughter number one and son number two had headed off to the south west corner of our lovely country.  Daughter number one with some girlfriends, and son number two with ELL.  The husband didn't really register that the house was relatively empty until about 8.00 last night.  This was after I had cooked him a lovely grown up dinner (something without ketchup or chips) and we had flopped on the sofa to watch Sounds of the 80's.  'It's ever so quiet', he said. 

I suppose the trouble is that we are so used to the noise and hub-bub, that it comes as a bit of a shock to us when the kids are away.  So we enjoyed the peace and lack of sentences preceded by 'Mum', and watched what we wanted without interruption.  .

The new washing machine is due here later on.  I wonder if it would be so keen to go to its new home if it knew what awaited it in the corner of the utility room.  It looks like we've had a Bring 'n' Buy Sale with no buying.  I'm planning on having the first wash on before the two men from AO have left the building, and I have the Bold tabs on standby.  I'll probably take up residence on the floor in front of it till it's finished, oohing and aahing like a crazy woman.  Is it sad to be so excited about a new washing machine?  I can sense some communal nodding going on amongst you all right now, and just imagine what I'd be like with a new fridge...

Going back to Sounds of the 80's, this brought back loads of memories for us.  The husband and I first stumbled across each other in a very innocent disco in 1980.  The wall outside the disco was the site of our first kiss, and there have been many times when we've driven past the village hall, and he's smiled at me, and asked me if I remembered.  Well of course I remember.  How could I ever forget my dad dragging me off the wall and throwing me in the back of the car, while telling me I had no shame.....he still doesn't know that the boy I was having the Friday night snogfest with was the husband.  There are some things which should never be revealed I feel.

The then 17 year old husband went on to stand me up on our first date, leaving yours truly standing on Marlow bridge gazing forlornly upriver, mourning the loss of the boy who looked like David Cassidy.  Fortunately, he showed up again some years later, so as I always say to our kids, 'If it's meant to be, it will be'. 

And luckily for me, (and him, as I often tell him) it was meant to be...


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