It’s rare that I buy really casual clothes. I never had a lot of money to spare for myself, having had children very young (the advantage of that is that they can fend for themselves by the time you’re in your forties), and what I did have went on books and music. So it seemed wasteful to spend what I had on anything that wasn’t good. So no dungarees – though being short and having the firm, if completely erroneous belief that I was stubby, I’d have assumed they wouldn’t suit me in any case. And platform shoes – no, didn’t like them. I went without new shoes until they went out of fashion because all shoes for young people had them and I was stubborn.
We had a good many dogs when I was growing up, and no cat dared enter our garden. Russell won’t have one, being a bird lover – I know that not all cats kill birds but he wouldn’t take the risk. I rather like cats and wouldn’t mind having one, but I don’t know if we’d suit because I’d make a few rules. The first one would be no creatures brought in to the house, dead or alive, the second would be no cat is allowed on a place where I prepare or keep food. I have no comprehension of people who, otherwise hygienic, allow a cat on their kitchen table. If you’re not hygienic, fair play.
The hotel I was born in and where I lived for four years was 1930s. Since then, I lived in Edwardian houses until this one, which is some 450 years old. I don’t mind the idea of a new house, it’s just not likely to happen.
It seems that blogging was made for me. If I didn’t have a blog, I still don’t think I’d keep a diary, except the appointments one – and I’d not willingly go back to a paper one, at that, The phone is far more convenient.
Yes, I hope I will travel more. Russell’s passport runs out in December and he’s never used it, and only used the previous one once, so travelling will be done alone or with friends/family. I think it’s very good to be self-reliant, though.
My dear stepfather, Wilf, had a son but, although I know his name and that he used to live on the Isle of Wight (and still may do), I know nothing more. I think he’d be in his mid to late sixties now. The surname is Edwards, which wouldn’t make tracking him down very easy – but then, why would I? Wilf hadn’t seen him for many years and he died more than 25 years ago. I let it go.
Never had the opportunity, except by displaying a very untypical exhibitionist streak. If I had my own swimming pool – but that’s extremely unlikely too. Besides, I don’t like swimming pools and I’m afraid of being out of my depth. If there’s a fear waiting to be conquered, that’s it however.
I was never a runner and, since finding out about my congenital hip problem, that’s just as well. If I’d been very sporty, I’d have needed a new hip in my forties. I’d hate to be in a marathon, too many people. When I did run, it was on my own. Bungee jumping – blimey, no. It would dislocate my hip now, but I’d never have done it, not for anything. I’d have jumped out of an aeroplane if required, no objection to that – but not now – hip again, I’m afraid.
I married from home, so never lived alone. Apart from the obvious awfulness of the reasons for it happening – ie death or divorce – I could well imagine, if things had been different and I hadn’t remained married for forty years, that I’d like living alone.
If my children had been younger, they’d have read Harry Potter and so would I. But I’ve never had a reason to. I daresay I will, one of these days, probably when a grandchild lends me their copy. And maybe one day I’ll catch a film on tv and it won’t be on Christmas afternoon when I’ve spent all morning cooking and then eaten too much, so won’t go to sleep in the middle of it.
I should write a ‘want to do’ list next – as Sir Bruin surmises, little of this will be on it.