Life Sentence

Our first date was 32 years ago and it always makes this dark time of year happily nostalgic for me.  Driving up in all weather through Glencoe on a Friday night, no snow or floods was going to stop me; but trying to find Spook on the 1st of January 2 weeks into our relationship was a challenge I hadn’t expected. I’d brought the Bells in with my family in the central belt and had assumed that he was just as excited about the Village dance - and me - as I was.

I had to follow a trail of Spook sightings.  He’d left the house at midnight, with a rucksack laden with clinking glass.  This was now 4pm the next afternoon and he had not yet returned.  No one was remotely concerned about him but I was seeing my night of dancing slipping away from me, so I went on a search.  

Some partying had taken place in the first household I tried and they advised me on his likely direction from there.  I found his morning coffee stop and then the house where he’d had some soup. He was travelling alone and seemed to be fluid in his movements.  I eventually found him at the end of the road in Old Mrs MacDougal’s house, very happily drinking Mahhattan cocktails, an empty rucksack by his side.  However, he was much less fluid than early reports would have it, and my night of dancing was still slipping away.  It had taken 2 hrs to find him, he’d been on the go since the day before, and there were 3 hrs until the dance. I poured him into my car and got him back to his own house where his wee sister spoon fed him soup until he made a miraculous recovery to dance the night away – otherwise we might not have made it to 32 years.

Keeping things sweet for those years takes different forms – like being supportive of each other’s efforts and making an effort FOR each other.  Quite a few years ago (I’ve told this story before but it’s important to retell it every now and then as a tale of caution,) responding to demands of Christmas cheer from his daughter, he decorated the house with lights including a string around the 2 Dormer windows with herself hanging onto his waistband as he hung out the window.  It was all rather precarious but he was very pleased with the results and asked me to go down the road to get a good view of them and tell him what I thought.  On a cold, dark, rainy night, with lots of other things to do, I was grumpy and reluctant but said I’d drive down the road (it’s a 2 min walk.) When I stepped out the door, I realized the rain had stopped and so decided not to be silly, and to walk. As I was nearing the bottom of the drive a car came along and stopped very briefly in the layby.  I waited until it moved away and then looked up at the house which was ablaze with beautiful lights.  Back at the house Spook was laughing with delight and said “did you see me?”

“eh?”

“When I saw your car stop, I flashed my bum out the bedroom window!”

“I didn’t take the car!” I squealed, “no wonder it drove away so fast!!”

Every now and then it dawns on me that I should pay a bit more attention to my appearance, though sometimes at inopportune moments, such as whilst marshalling at an all day event with nothing more pressing to do than stroke my chin and ponder life. I discovered a long whisker and presented myself at the medical tent as an emergency which required immediate removal of the whisker.

Once, putting a vase of wilted lilies into the bin I took a wee sniff to see if they still smelled nice well past their best.  It was only by chance that I glanced in the mirror before going to town to see that the orange stamen had transferred its powder into every wrinkle above my lips, giving me the most grotesque moustache – much worse than a single hair on my chin.

Recently I’ve been trying to address my poor eating habits and last week I had avocado on toast for breakfast.  Whilst trying to remove the stone but not lose the expensive flesh, it pinged off the counter and I caught it expertly between my thighs.  I did make a mental note to get that off my joggers before walking the dog but was halfway through the walk when I looked down and saw the giant bogey-like stain.  The next day it was my peanut butter that dropped off my toast and it looked worse than the avocado. Then it was the tomato that landed on my chest leaving the seeds stuck to my jumper.

When Megan was home recently I washed, blow dried and straightened my hair; put on moisturizer and eye liner.  I came downstairs and announced this proudly to herself and her Dad.  Without looking up from his laptop, he said….

“Why?”  

Even Daddy’s Girl looked at him with horror and I looked at her as if to say

“Do you see what I’m dealing with here?”

Every 5 months or so I go to my lovely Hairdresser and spend £60 on a haircut.  This only looks nice when I apply the above routine and otherwise is just a fuzzball of frizzy blond.  But at least I’m trying.  Spook has been trying a bit too.  He’s taken to going to the Turkish Barber where they dole out a little more care and attention at greater cost but he comes out feeling and looking a bit special.

The other day, new rechargable batteries arrived for the dog clippers so that I could get the mutt looking as good as his owners. Imagine the 3 of us, beautifully coiffed as we promenade along Caol’s new shorefront. People will comment on how good we look. The previous batteries charged but then just faded soon as you turned them on so I was a bit dubious about the new ones.  Spook fired up the clippers and said that’s them working.  I said you need to run them a bit longer to prove they are sorted.  At the same time as he held them out towards me on full power, I dipped to get something out of my handbag on the floor which was at at our feet - to see a clump of my expensive blond hair drop to the floor.

Bald spots, beards and bare bums – it’s downhill from here, Darling.

Happy Anniversary.

Can just wear this until it grows back.