Monday, August 19, 2013

I've got a little list, I've got a little list



Anyone who knows me knows I'm a mad fan - and one time performer back in the ancient Cork City days before interwebz and kidlets and emigration - of Gilbert & Sullivan. You could sing their ditties off key and standing on your head and I would fall in love with you. Then again, That was a mistake lesson I made twice in my life.

Mistakes are lessons learned. I try not to use the word mistake. For if I don't try something how will I ever know I will like or dislike it? I know. Some people are cautious. But I prefer to err on the side of trying anything once or twice and learning the lesson and then moving on or staying and enjoying the result.

I was doing a survey of lessons in my own life. And seriously, I am very glad I made them. Even when I was engaged to two young men at the same time. Seriously. How ready was I for marriage? Harumph. I confessed the dilemma to my dad. Who made like a sphinx. I think he had apoplexy. His face went purple. He lost his voice. Completely. And when he regained it, he told my mother to "take care of your daughter, she's out of control, again." But I wasn't. Or was I? I learned my lesson. I wouldn't say it was the wrong man I married. I don't like the word wrong when applied to human beings. Maybe we were wrong for each other. Fire and water. I remember one of my dear friends who would come from her travels all over the world and nestle into our family home in Toronto for a while and observe us. "WWW," she would say, "I've never known a more mismatched couple. Your horizons are so wide and T----'s are so narrow." Well played, R, well played.

But I learned a good lesson then. I don't think I'm meant for marriage. Fine for me to say you'd think after messing about so much. But we have to try and learn, don't we? And how else to learn but by messing about and experimenting? See, I'm not one to run home and make you supper. Or wash your knickers. I'd forget. I'd get involved with my music or my book or my writing or my knitting and feel resentful if I had to interrupt myself to take care of you. You can see what I mean? Marital duty 'n all, that doesn't sit well with me. Though if you were to change the oil in my car or deal with the lesson I've learned from Cara the caravan, now that would be nice.

So yes, I was dealing with a list today and managed to strike off many items. Hence, the post....which could go on and on but I'll shut up now.

12 comments:

  1. Me, you, your sisters, cousins and your aunts, could all sing those parts in our sleep. As for lessons learned.... I was the Martha to your Mary, I peeled the spuds!

    ReplyDelete
  2. You were such a good girl, GM, though I know for sure you had no choice and were robbed of your own childhood.
    I was lucky in that my mother would always snort (privately) at my actions as she had been the very same when she could get away with it before she married.
    XO
    WWW

    ReplyDelete
  3. I remember going to see the Mikado in college!

    I also remember when I was dating three menthe summer before I started grad school and my father stomping out of the room, shaking his head. But yes - how else do we learn about ourselves. WHich is why I refuse to say I had a failed marriage. It was NOT a failure. We had many lovely years together, we had two great kids, and in the end, grew apart. That's okay. I wonder now, though, how I'd ever settle back into a marriage. You get used to your independence, don't you?

    ReplyDelete
  4. Nope, I was never a Gilbert and Sullivan fan. The only music that regularly goes round and round my head is all the old Beatles numbers, as deeply embedded in my brain as nuts in nougat.

    My feeling about mistakes is that making a mistake once is fine, that's a learning experience. But making the same mistake again, having failed to learn the first time, is pretty dumb.

    ReplyDelete
  5. You got me started on a G&S fest! Love that stuff. They used to do at least one every year in my hometown....

    ReplyDelete
  6. Being engaged to two guys at the same time and you tell your father about it? You must have been something indeed! I wish that I had known you then.

    ReplyDelete
  7. SAW:

    I would find it very hard to give it up but my friend yesterday just turned 50 and gave hers up last year. he is lovely.

    where are my lovelies (and yours?)

    XO
    WWW

    ReplyDelete
  8. Nick:
    I find circumstances vary. Often the mistake repeated doesn't appear to be the same mistake until after...right?
    And yes, Beatles do it for me too, know all their songs by heart....
    XO
    WWW

    ReplyDelete
  9. Who knows Ramana, I might have made you # 3.

    I should be so lucky....

    XO
    WWW

    ReplyDelete

Comments are welcome. Anonymous comments will be deleted unread.

Email me at wisewebwomanatgmaildotcom if you're having trouble.