Week one of our LBC posting for the brand spanking New Year of 2011. Conrad turned the drum and pulled out a topic for today, it was suggested by me.
“Are you OK?” He asked.
It had been years since I heard a man say those words and when I heard them again about a month or six weeks ago, the question took me by surprise.
What did he mean?
Was I feeling unwell, was I hungry, thirsty or tired? He hardly thought I was pregnant…. Goodness gracious that would not alone be a shock, but a greater miracle than a moving statue!
I assured the gentleman that I was feeling fine.
“But are you OK?” He repeated and quickly followed up with “Do you need anything?”
Now we girls are always in need of something….
In my young days it would be an endless supply of tights, I was forever catching them on a chair or with a rough finger nail. There was of course new makeup or SHOES. How I loved buying new shoes. Imelda was my middle name! 😉
Well, I was on the wrong track. It turns out Mr OK was worried about me. He had been listening to all the doom and gloom in this part of the world: the bank vaults being empty and the Governments taking taxes from us many times over to fill the vast abyss once more. If that was not enough we would pay extra tax on everything we used… I wonder how much tax we have to pay for breathing?
Back to Mr OK. He was offering to rescue me financially if the need arose. I was stunned.. How kind that anyone would think along such lines about me.
I am not very good at accepting gifts. Listening to the chat of an old friend today brought back a distant memory of such a story that she never forgot…. it happened around this time of the year, before I was married, so maybe that was why she remembered it.
Both our late husbands worked together and there was to be a Dinner dance (all the rage back then) for the Company, in Scotland. Jack was alone at the time, and the girls in his office were encouraging him to go with them to the dance. He only knew me a very short time but told me he did not want to go alone and asked if I would go with him. I agreed. It would be the first time I met his work colleagues and they me. My name was added to the list and a room booked for me. Everything went well and we had great fun.
On the morning after the dance we had time to wander at our leisure, before climbing aboard our coach for our return to the ferry and the journey to Northern Ireland. We headed out in couples to explore our surroundings. Soon I found we were in the main shopping area. We wandered slowly and I was happy to window shop. No matter what I looked at or admired, Jack wanted to buy it for me. My friend and her husband emerged from a shop as we were at the window and I was saying “No thank you” for the umpteenth time. We stood to chat for a few minutes and I explained to her about my predicament.
Her words were “Let him buy everything for you!” She would have taken everything, but not me. I saw all guys as my brothers, and would not use them for free booty! Time enough when we had made a strong commitment to each other. Indeed after we married, Jack was very generous with gifts. If he was out and about and saw something that he thought I would like he would arrive home with it. There was hardly a day passed that I did not receive a gift. I regularly found a bar of dark chocolate in my knickers’ drawer.
Then there were the raspberries…………..
When I was pregnant I had a longing for raspberries, but of course they were out of season. One day while Jack was working in the Limavady area, he was in a shop and saw tinned raspberries on the shelf…
You guessed it… he bought out their whole stock!