No photos for this one. About 35 years ago I was divorced and returned home to parents with young son. Joined Dateline. Went out with some very weird men - most of them wished to talk about their previous wives! One I remember had a Bobby Charlton hairstyle, a brown suit (I hate them) and a purple tie which he started wrapping round the steering wheel whilst driving (god knows why). Another chap was 5ft 4ins tall and I am nearing 6ft !
Eventually met a sheep farmer from Scotland - we both got on well and he did his level best to enjoy my interests. One day my Dad said "Don't put your eggs all in one basket" - so I looked at my computer sheet of four names (I had been too shy to make the initial contact) and decided to write to one - but which one - in the end I chose the one with the nicest sounding name! Eventually a letter (full of spelling mistakes) came back from Nice Name including a fab photo and I remember my mum, dad and myself (son eating rusks or something similar) pouring over this photo. The letter said he would drive down from London to see me. Well . . . . . . we hit it off from the moment we met.
Sheep Farmer and Nice Name had different methods of arranging their lives. Sheep Farmer would look at his diary and make a date. Nice Name would just suddenly ring up out of the blue and suggest we should go out that night. The inevitable happened. I had a date fixed with Sheep Farmer one Wednesday night - Wednesday afternoon Nice Name phoned and said he would be with me within the hour! By that time I liked Nice Name better than Sheep Farmer so I did the most terrible thing - I still remain deeply embarrassed.. . . . . . . . . .
I said yes to Nice Name and rang Sheep Farmer and told a whopper - my father had had a severe epileptic fit and had been rushed to hospital. Sheep Farmer said how sorry he was. I proceeded that night to see Nice Name.
The weekend arrived. It was very very hot. We had front door and garden door open to keep a breeze running through the house. All the family were in the garden sunbathing (son must have been toddling around). Doorbell rang and there on the doorstep was Sheep Farmer with a huge bouquet of flowers for me - he could see straight through the house into the garden where my father was in a very healthy condition for someone who had had a severe epileptic fit. Sheep Farmer with downcast eyes left never to be seen again. I later married Nice Name who is now Husband and we live happily ever after.
So Sheep Farmer if you read this blog - I am truly sorry for treating you so shabbily.
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