So where is it to be Barcelona, New York, Paris, The Orient Express or somewhere else. Well before I go into that lets just look at the occasion. Our 40th wedding anniversary.


It’s hard to believe forty years married and Christine still only forty five! I have had a word with her and suggested that the facts don’t stack up and that she must come clean about her age, she can’t expect to be believed as forty five. If you are keeping up with the blog you know she only receives her pension because of an error by someone at the Pension Office who has entered her date of birth incorrectly! Or so she says! Christine, can I say at this point has never been down the post office in her slippers to collect her pension, it’s paid direct into her bank account. That way no one else in the village knows she’s a pensioner.


Never-the-less she has decided to accept that she may have been economical with the truth about her age and has decided to accept fifty if pushed but would rather stick with forty nine. To try and confuse the issue to cover the age problem she now wants to mix and match wedding anniversaries and make this one our diamond wedding instead of ruby. Doesn’t like rubies you see but loves diamonds.
Her reasoning being that we may not make fifty years so why can’t we have the anniversary that we like now and have the one we don’t like in ten years time if we make it. When I ask her about the ‘if we make it’ bit she is not considering the big retirement home in the sky scenario it’s more to do with can she put up with me at home for ten more years without getting a divorce.

Putting up with me! I can’t believe it! As I have said on numerous occasions I am the most reasonable person I know, if there’s any 'putting up with' to be done it should be ..............!


So forty years, it’s hard to believe. But that’s forty years married. We actually started going out together on 22 November 1963, the night JFK was assassinated. We were, in fact, both staying in on that night but after the assassination the only two TV channels about in those days stopped all normal programmes so we both went out and met up.
Isn’t fate amazing?

So you see it’s Lee Harvey Oswald’s actions that are responsible for this current confusion over rubies, diamonds and why Christine was in the Locarno dance hall that night when she was only six years old but looking more like sixteen.


That brings me to the point that whatever anniversary it is I am sure Christine would like a few days away and to be honest so would I, we need to build up our strength for our upcoming five weeks in the Bahamas! It’s a hard life but someone has to do it. So where shall we go?


Barcelona? Probably not, we will get all the sunshine we need in The Bahamas and although there are obviously some good shops there, Christine got everything she needs from Meadowhall last week. So that’s Barcelona out.


The Orient Express? I don’t think so. The last time Christine went on a train she said she wasn’t going to do that again. Mind you it was only between Beverley and Hull and then only because her car was in for service but she wasn’t impressed. So trains are out.


Paris? We have never been to Paris so it’s a possibility, but Paris should be in springtime and in any case it’s full of French people. So I think that’s off till next spring.


That leaves New York. It was almost certain to be New York but following the security alert and new check in procedures I don’t believe we should risk a flight to the USA just yet. Nothing to do with the cost you appreciate.


Having rejected all my original ideas it only leaves one place, The Lake District. A few days in a nice hotel in Grassmere, what more can anyone want. Feeling very satisfied with myself I book the break and look forward to this coming week end.


On Tuesday night I am out with Kev and the Tuesday crowd down the Corner House in Beverley and I happen to mention that I won’t be here next week as I am taking Christine to the lakes for our 40th wedding anniversary. “Very nice” says Kev “the Italian lakes are superb” and he starts telling me of places to go. I explain that I mean the Lake District in Cumbria and he is gobsmacked. This was followed by a tirade, I only remember words like 40th, tight arse, must be joking, your having a laugh and plenty more that I cannot print here. I set off for home deflated.


But Christine does love the Lakes and we haven’t been this year yet so it will be Grassmere, Skelwith Bridge, Lucy’s coffee shop in Ambleside, walks in Grizedale forest and around Rydal Water and we will come back refreshed. Either that or I’ll get a severe ear bashing or worse when I tell Christine where we are going. I think I'll forget to mention the other places I looked at. I'll let you know how it goes if I'm still around.