The Language of Love

Okay. So I was just sweet …19 .. And, although born in Seven Kings, just outside London, I hadn’t ventured into the city much. I’d become an Essex bird and was dating an Essex boy who was clearly much more clued up than me. We decided to catch the train into London and somehow ended up waiting for a bus somewhere and all around I could see brick walls. These were sprayed with white graffiti stating loud and proud “Bill Posters will be prosecuted”. We seemed to wait an eternity for the bus, leaving me to reflect on this repeated statement and rack my brain. Eventually I piped up:

“Who’s Bill Posters?”

We eventually married. And Divorced. Was it something I said?

On another occasion with aforementioned, later to be husband, we were travelling down the M11 nearing Duxford Air Museum. Being plane buffs we wondered if we would see any planes taking off or landing as the air show was on. Hmmm. This is always dependent on the wind direction and we didn’t know which way it was blowing. I wet my finger and stuck it out the sun roof. Not surprisingly it was blowing against our direction of travel

I’m now very happily married to my second husband Mark, but I don’t know how I got to second base at times. Whilst courting, he decided that he wanted to take me to the pub to meet his friends. Arghh! Eyebrows need plucking. Off we went to the pound shop, I found what looked like a perfect pair of tweezers. Only one problem, I was on a budget and they didn’t have a price on them. I can’t believe I actually shared my thoughts with my then boyfriend!



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