For my RRHB’s birthday last year, we went up to Aberfoyle for the day. It ended up being a lovely day, and the first time we seriously sort of started discussing the whole, “can we really get married one day” thing.
Annnwaay, it’s one of his favourite things to do (at least I think so) and despite the rain, despite the near freezing temperatures, we muddled through the many booths and he found something quite fascinating to purchase.
For the most part, we don’t buy many things, but this time, he couldn’t resist. The purchase? An electric accordion. You heard me. It has its own amp and some funny looking power box thingy. According to the seller, you’d have paid thousands for it if you bought it brand new (said the huckster to the huckee), but it was so strange and interesting that he had to have it.
But it was crazy-expensive and when he got it home (after we stopped in Freelton at the other fun antique/flea market where I bought a $20.00 Robert Davidson print that’s now sitting on my desk), he couldn’t get it work for the longest time. However, I’m pleased to announce that my RRHB, who has never played accordion in his life, did get it to work and it’s loud, synthesizer-like tones graced the hallowed halls of our half-wrecked house. Happy birthday to him! He was even kind of giddy it made him so happy. Who cares if we’re now broke and have to eat the mouldy cheese in the fridge until I get paid on Thursday.
I’m kidding.
Well, I’m half kidding.
And what can I say anyway considering when I was off on sick leave a few weeks ago I almost shopped myself into oblivion. Sometimes you just have to spend the money. It’s a reality and a fact of life.