We have always both had an independent streak mind you, and I think that’s a good thing. Being a desperately gloomy person by nature, I’ve always been only too aware that one of us will eventually be left alone and I’ve always made sure that we both have some separate interests and friends.
Although the Sage is a lot older than me, I don’t assume that he’ll go first by any means. My parents’ and grandparents’ average age at death was around 62, I’m not sure what his grandparents’ were but both his parents lived into their 80s so I have always taken the view we’re both likely to pop off pretty well together, which actually means that his determination not to retire until he’s at least 80 is pissing me off quite a bit.
We may have been married for 39 years, but the Sage doesn’t know me very well. I asked him what I enjoy doing and he said “well, there’s your school work.” I said that was work, could he suggest things that I most like doing apart from that. “Shopping,” he said. “No, try again.” “Er, driving.’
Wrong and wrong. His next couple of attempts were better, if vague, but honestly darlings, you know me better than he does. Apart from talking (thank you Barney), I’m sure you lovely people could suggest something I enjoy and get it right. Apart from Lowestoft china which is a sore point around here right now. I bet you’d get it more right than he did.
I gave him full credit for his loveliness in welcoming blogfriends here and also for his warm hospitality in welcoming Elle. I wouldn’t want him to think I take him for granted.