Lonely Old Cat Lady

When you have been married for as long as we have the conversation sometimes turns to the thorny question of whether you would try to find someone else if you were no longer together. This is a discussion we seem to have had with greater frequency of late, probably because the Long Suffering Husband needs to fantasise about sharing his bed with a more energetic, less grumpy woman who actually sleeps.

We met at an open air disco after the town carnival and again at a friend's 16th Birthday party. I wore a ra-ra skirt and leg warmers (in different colours) and he wore a dark blue shirt with a thin white satin tie. We talked all evening about nothing exciting enough to remember and everything engrossing enough to make us feel as though we were the only two people. Some time later we went to the cinema and it was as easy as that. Now that we are old, it might not be quite so easy to meet someone.

"It's all about technology now," I explained to the LSH as we were walking the dog. "You won't be able to find someone if you never answer your mobile and don't learn how to text!" Listening to friends and colleagues it's clear that you need an online dating profile, Facebook, Twitter, Whatsap, Instagram, Tinder and most importantly, snapchat, so you can share pictures of your private parts. It's now illegal to have a relationship with someone unless you have seen a photo of their genitals and had lengthy 30 character chats with them. The LSH was beginning to get a little worried about ever finding someone else and so made me promise to let him die first, which is something that could be arranged if the World Cup telly hogging doesn't stop soon.

Man and dog watching football

I told him that I would have to write an honest dating profile, which probably wouldn't help me find someone. I wrote an honest dating profile for a recently divorced friend and although she says she loves it I suspect she won't be using it.

"You'll be alright, though," he said, "You don't need anyone." And while I agree with him the next sentence stung a little. "I can see you as one of those crazy old single women surrounded by books and cats."

By the time we got back from our walk I was still feeling misrepresented, so I indignantly told the children what he had said, expecting them to leap to my defence. However, an uncomfortably long pause was followed by an explanation of how it's only because I'm anti-social and really don't like people. No, no, they didn't mean that, it's just that they know I like to be on my own. It's not like it's a bad thing. 

It might be time to do something about this reputation I'm getting. It's time to start accepting invitations to things; to actually go for coffee rather than just keep saying, "we must go for coffee,", or actually drop round and see the new house, or actually go to the party rather than think of excuses. 

Yes, that's what I'll do, I'll be more sociable.

 A party invitation! How lovely! Jugs of Pimms and a fork buffet! Great! I'm there! .......... But Saturday night.....it'll be late....I'll have to leave my book at home....I don't even drink Pimms ......and who wants to eat forks?????

Better get myself a cat then - or could I have pigs instead?