Showing posts with label registry office. Show all posts
Showing posts with label registry office. Show all posts

Thursday, 26 July 2012

Decree Absolute-ly

Now it's common knowledge among my friends that I've been living over t'brush for the last twelve and a half years. I was thinking of changing this status ...

I'm one of those individuals - probably borne out of sheer idleness - who never does today what can be put off until tomorrow ... or next week ... even better, next year (decade). This mind-set actually accounts for why it took nearly ten years to get divorced; not helped one iota by my ex-hubby (and friend) abiding by the same philosophy.

Anyway, after much badgering from family and friends - and don't forget, friends, if you don't shurrup I'll find me some new ones - I finally got the deed done. And to be honest, it was only because we were at the vets waiting for the cat's yearly overhaul, that I was close enough to the solicitors to make my first appointment.

It was fairly painless, except of course, to my bank balance. I was finally divorced three ago. My ex let me know because his decree absolute came straight from court, mine of course came from my solicitor; just to make sure they could squeeze every last penny out of me.

When my copy arrived, I gave it to the grumpy old man to put in his briefcase with all his important stuff, because I - being me - would have lost it.

If you're a seasoned reader of my blog - go and find something else to do - then you'll know that we got engaged on my 50th birthday, and as usual, why do today what can be put off ad infinitum?

There has since been even more badgering from friends - well one particular pain in the bum  - for us to get married. But as my ex said to me when I told him we were getting divorced ... 'What's the rush?' My grumpy old man certainly isn't in any hurry to get married and I'm sure I'll get around to doing it sometime.

Anyway, a few months ago I was talking via messenger to the friend who keeps asking ... 'Do I need a hat yet?' With the same reply as always ... 'You won't need one, you're not invited.' When I decided to search on t'Interweb for what documents we'd need if - you know, just in case - we went to the registry office.

Among them was my 'Decree Absolute' ... Oh, I know where that is, I'll just get it out. Off I went to rummage in grumpy's briefcase.

Oh, heck, it was there all right, and ever so easy to find - because some bleep bleep bleepety bleep t**t had written on the back of this legal document, telling me almost exactly what it is.

Well, any ideas of there being a grumpy + grumpess wedding this decade are so far off the scale as to be nigh on negligible. I mean, me being as pedantic as I am to the nth degree, I can't sit there smiling at the registrar and waft my decree absolute in front of him/her when it's got - in big, neat writing on the back - DEVORcE papers, now can I?
.....

This was amongst my drafts dated 30.11.11, and, ahem ... seeing as we - finally - went to Ripley this morning to see the registrar to give notice of intent to marry, book our wedding and prove that we knew each other and aren't trying to have an illegal sham marriage.

And ... as I so v-e-r-y carefully opened out my decree absolute so she couldn't see the writing on the back - which was by now actually making the left side of my brain itch - phew, what a save. I thought I'd finally publish it ...