@Justis - I picked my husband when I was 14 years old, but didn't know I was doing that. But I liked his character then, and we became boy- and girlfriend much later, lovers even later. Not like it is today. What I meant by knowing someone, is having a similar cultural background. If you grew up in Australia you didn't necessarily have something in common with a Portuguese girl, even though she might also have grown up here?? My daughters had trouble, but mostly through lack of experience. They all have nice partners now - with S., the one in England, I was even instrumental in getting them together. Long story - but they had known each other (S. was divorced from a bloke who expected her to earn and 'keep' him while he was doing his own thing, musically and never earnt a penny from it; - handsome and nice bloke, though, Pom, just not motivated).
So here is me: one night after arriving at Heathrow and a taxi having taken me to this inner London address (cost a fortune) - I fronted up to a locked 3-story house at around 11 pm with suitcase. Knocked, no-one answered - I heard music from top floor - they were rehearsing, - I kept knocking, found some pebbles threw them against some of the windows on the lower floor; eventually door opens and a man who looks like a devil emerges - he had a bright-read forehead and two horns sticking out from it - well I was in shock, but followed him in - past his door which had image of hell painted above entrance - I was in more shock - took me to the top floor, where rehearsals were going on. I thanked him, he went downstairs. (turned out the guy was a body modification specialist, made a fortune from it, even his girlfriend had horns on her forehead, daintier)
I just stuck my head into rehearsal room and said, 'I'll wait out here' - they continued playing - eventually a handsome young man comes out, introduces himself and we start chatting - then my daughter arrives and they had their first personal conversation ever. He had adored her from a distance for months . . . . he is a drummer, she a violinist - I took a photograph of them both sitting on the narrow steps of a typical English house, with P. smoking one of those tiny cigarettes, maybe it was weed - but it didn't smell funny . . . Now, of course, she is the girl ill with cancer and he turned out to be the most amazing husband and father . . . .
But they knew each other reasonably well, had a common interest and love: music etc. So maybe joining a hobby group - but I guess HC is something like that? Go well Taurisk
