When I first met SSS in 1971, he was $10,000 in debt. That was a huge amount of debt back then, when a fairly successful draftsman could make maybe $400 a month, and a secretary, about the same.
His debt level didn't stop him from wining and dining me, complete with roses and poetry and guitar serenades and yada, yada, yada. Within months, he took me to a jewelry store, and had me try on engagement rings. I was more of a silver-and-turquoise girl than a diamond one, so was flabbergasted at the prices. I was also tactless, pointing out that, as we were starting this relationship in a huge amount of debt, perhaps it wasn't a good idea to increase the amount for a bauble.
(I had in mind something costing less than a year's wages--an opal, or a sapphire, for instance.)
He immediately got huffy and informed me that, if what he wanted to get me wasn't good enough, he would never buy me any jewelry.
In nearly 15 years of marriage, he never did.
Oh Vero, I know that confusing feeling.
ReplyDeleteWhen you look back years later, you wonder what the heck the attraction was.
I think the only reason I got married, is because everyone told be he was a confirmed batchelor. Heh, I wish to high heavens he had stayed that way!
Believe me, I really tried to get away from him. When I dated other guys, he would climb through the windows of our house (my Dad was deaf from the War and couldn't hear the door). Startling my father, and demanding to know where I was and who I was with.
All my Dad wanted to know was how the heck he got into the house! Anyway, against my parents better judgment, I married the idiot! More fool me.
He also made big displays, until we got married....! The head case!
If he gave me money for anything, he made sure he got it back, splitting all the bills exactly in half, making a B-line for ex-girlfriends at parties....a regular arsehole! Sorry about the language.
Hmmm, now, I wonder what it was that turned me off...!
Oh those photos! Absolutely beautiful, Ronni.
ReplyDeleteThe dramatic skies and brown sections of grass, make me homesick for Africa.
Great photography, too!
He broke into your house? And you married him anyway?
ReplyDeleteThe power of love! I let SSS move me halfway across the continent without even questioning it!
He didn't have the brains to be dangerous, Ronni.
ReplyDeleteActually my Dad probably saw the 'ageing rue' (as he called him, Gawd knows what that means!), and decided to ignore him, anyway.
My Dad always sat next to the patio doors, so there is just no way, that he didn't at the very least, see him knocking. He may have been deaf, but he certainly wasn't blind.
I wouldn't really call it a 'break-in'! The sheer frustration of needing to know where I was, and with whom, was doing his head in!
Heh, my Mother warned him that if he didn't stop the 'penny pinching', I would leave him, and he scoffed!
Heh, give me a break, Ronni. Shirley, we are allowed, at least, one arsehole, per lifetime. LOL