197 years and 8 months

At some point yesterday evening there were six women chatting in one room. The brother of one of us had been told by his wife, a couple of months ago, that their marriage was ended – his business had gone bankrupt and she didn’t intend to stand by him. “How long have they been married?” asked someone. “Twenty-eight years.” We were silent for a bit. “We’re a bit unusual, all six of us have grown-up children and we’re still with our husbands.” I asked each of them how long they had been married, and totted it up. Thirty-seven, thirty-five, thirty-three, thirty-two, thirty-one and twenty-six. And all of us still in our fifties…though not all of our husbands. “By July we’ll have two hundred years between us, we’d better have a party.”

We left around 11.30, but I still had wreaths to finish so it was half-past one by the time I was in bed, and I was up again four hours later to help Al put together his orders. By the time his three staff came in at 8.30, they were done except for the few items waiting for the Mr Fru1ty delivery.

I’ve had breakfast – bacon, eggs and tomato – and I’ve got some clearing up to do, bits of holly all over the floor. Then I’ll wrap the rest of the presents. It all seems very calm and organised, I wonder what I’ve forgotten.

4 comments on “197 years and 8 months

  1. The Boy

    We’re only at 11, so a ways to go yet, but then we started late.

    A marraige bust up because of a bankrupt business? Sounds like a happening waiting for the excuse. How sad.

    We’re remarkably organised as well. Other than the usual food shop tomorrow we’re under control in our house. Very unusual given how busy we’ve been. Then again I had a boss who always said “If you want something done, ask a busy man” (just as he was about to ask me to do something)…

    Merry Christmas Z!

  2. Wendz

    Oh hello – been very quiet I know. Running around with my Mom and spending all our time talking (and laughing – she is hilarious)..

    I feel so sad for that poor man whose wife left him. I’m sure there is more to it than that though..maybe it wasn’t a very happy marriage?

    Partridge! Now there’s something I have never eaten. Is it very very gamey? My Mom wouldn’t even eat some turkey I mistakenly made the other night. She was so funny. But she loves French bread.

    Oh I am tired. Not used to talking so much! And you with all your wreaths. Blimey I’d have given up by now.

  3. Z

    I don’t know, it seems that she was also waiting for their daughter to leave home to go to university.

    But, kick a man when he’s down….

    Partridge is not that different from pheasant, and as gamey as how long it’s been hung. It does give a frisson of guilt, to eat a whole bird yourself.

    I don’t give up, unfortunately, Wendz. Only on lost causes.

    Glad you’re having a lovely time, hugs to you and your family.

    xx – z


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