CYCLE DAY 11 & 12

Friday 6^th December 2019

This was the day that my partner and I give notice of our intention to form a civil partnership but that means an interview, so it’s up early and a shower. Once I feel non smelly and have downed my drugs I sort out the small forest of papers that we need to take to prove that we are real people. Birth certificates, marriage certificates, passports, divorce papers, change of name deeds, drivers licences, household bills and an old persons bus card just to be sure I‘ve covered all basis. Yet there was still the nagging little voice at the back of my head suggesting that there was bound to be something I had forgotten. We drove to the registrar’s office and announced our arrival an waited in the reception area. It was very quiet, with the odd person tip toeing through the lobby. The one person waiting with us seemed cheery enough and was soon escorted away to do whatever it was he was waiting to do. He did not look like a “birth” to us so that left “death” or “marriage/civil partnership”. Impossible to tell really, seemed too cheery for “death” , but on the other hand an improbable marriage/ civil partnership  being on his own. It was a mystery but not one we had long to ponder as we were soon called in to the registrar’s office. A person in blouse and skirt, no signifying rings or tattoos, smiley, greeted us with the words “I’ve not done one of these before!” Being a civil partnership made up of male and female at this moment in time is apparently a bit of a rarity given that the regulations have only just come into operations, and ceremonies can only happen from January 2020. So even the paper work we were about to see filled in was new. According to the registrar the LGBT+ community were not doing civil partnerships any more since they could get married. I refrain from comment. Anyway we start going through the mountain of documents that we had brought with us. To our relief we had all we needed and we set about constructing our life histories for the registrar. The only tricky but was proving that my partner did to become another person between getting married, divorced and changing her name. Having established continuity of identity we were able to move to stage two, paying some money, and then out of the blue the registrar says” Good now I can interview you, who wants to go first?” I realise at this point she means separately. No need to panic, my memory is holding up quite well if my crossword ability os to be believed.

I am shown back to the reception area which is now empty, although through a half closed door I can hear a staff member discussing payment over the phone for a ceremony of some sort. The person is obviously agreeing with the other person that paying for fancy stuff to be put on the chairs is a waste of time if all you do is sit on it and never see it. I note the hint, and wander off to find the nearest toilet wondering if I take too long and they come to call me for my interview whether they will think I’ve legged it in a fit of cold feet panic. Another fantasy that did not come to fruition. I am called in and sit like a school boy about to be tested on his Latin prep by the house prefect. In reality I would have no idea what this would be like but I’ve seen Harry Potter. The registrar asks me my name, easy I can do that one, then my birthday, easy peasy, I’m walking this. I am asked my partners birthday, I grin as it was the day before, yes I’m doing well here. The registrar looks at me and asks “have you been married before”, “yes” I say and then I panic, “what was her name” is bound to be the next question and I have a mind blank. I know it was P….., but P…… what? I can remember her parents first names but not the surname. How thick am I going to look in about two nano seconds time. I’m casting about my mind frantically, the pixies are ripping file cabinets open desperately looking for where I’ve filed this information. I take a breath and make a note to do more difficult crosswords from now on. I also remind myself that my son from that marriage has his mother’s maiden name as a middle name. Sorted, I smile and feel safe again and realise that the registrar is waiting for the answer to her last question that I had just missed while solving the missing name problem. The question was repeated and I say yes and we move on. A few very basic questions later and I am done. I sign some forms and my partner rejoins us. The registrar types some more stuff in to the computer and presses a button and says “there you are notice is now live”. She gives us some info, reminds us we still owe some money and wishes us luck. We leave and drive off  to meet the manger of our partnership venue.  In the car we have the usual “how was it for you” conversation. My partner was asked why we had chosen to go for a civil partnership, to which she replied she was not sure. What was interesting was that I did not get asked. My fantasy was that a woman did not fancy asking a bloke, or after getting my partners answer thought better of asking me. Probably the latter.

We head for Beaumanor Hall where we meet the manager of the venue to discuss what our ceremony will require the venue to supply. We drink coffee and let the manager ask us his pre structured interview. Apart from the need to keep reminding him we were not marrying but civil partnering he was very good and helpful. There were a lot of questions we could not answer but his questions were very useful in helping us to structure some of the things we needed to consider. We even made some decisions there and then. We did set time parameters and what bits of the venue we would use. After outlining the event he took us on a tour of the venue. It has a tremendous ornate staircase set against a back drop of a stained glass window, which my partner is determined to walk down to the ceremony room. Apart from this piece of indulgence the rest is straight forward, formal legal bit followed by casual drinks and nibbles prior to a private meal for the guests. That’s all I can say at the moment, the rest is either unknown or secret, there is Christmas to do first. We thank the venue manager and drive away with a new to do list.

We headed for a restaurant in a village not far from us, me making the reservation as we drove to it. My first Christmas dinner of the season, surrounded by locals lunching and out for their traditional Christmas lunch met up. All morning it’s been raining and we dash to the car trying to avoid getting soaked on the way to the car, all this and it is barely two thirty in the afternoon. Once home there are chores to do and domestic organisation to attend to. My major task was to wrap the presents for my son and his family and to get the parcel box ready to send to Stockholm. The box is heavy so I might need to readjust, but not this day. By the time the evening arrives I’m ready to indulge in a fantasy film, The Black Panther, total nonsense but has not intellectual requirement at all. Thankfully Have I got news for You and Mock the Week follow and with the election campaigns in full swing there is lots to laugh at and to mock. I realise that the day has taken its toll on me and I suddenly feel tired, so I resort to my refilled drugs wallet and take myself off to bed.

Saturday 7^th December 2019.

I wake after a reasonable nights rest, including the unavoidable bathroom interruptions during the night. Donning my new onsie I clear the kitchen and makes drinks for my partner and myself. My eldest daughter pass me on her way out to work and I settle down to begin some work till my partner gets up and goes shopping for bread. There is magically bacon sandwiches. I repack the Stockholm parcel so that it can go in the post. I do my washing, fill the bird feeders and for some strange reason feel impelled to rake up leaves in the garden. By the time this is all done it is time to go to the post office. Not just any post office but our village post office that has now reopened after being ram raided over six months ago. It was good to see the couple who run it back in business with a bright and shiny new shop. The new shop/post office notably has not got a cash machine. Back home my afternoon was taken up with writing Christmas cards and doing some civil partnership research on things like cost and food. My Christmas cards complete with seals are now sitting in the post box waiting collection. So I blog and try to catch up. It is clear a few die hard people are still visiting my blog, which is very reinforcing to me to carry on. Originally I started the blog to help me manage being ill and the consequent treatment. It does this but also allows others to know how I am without the need to have the conversations all the time. It also allows me to keep a grip and a perspectives on the overall process of being ill. Keeping a direction and having a strategy for dealing with the cancer and its effects on me is helpful. Tonight I shall rest, read and watch a little TV. I need to go to the gym tomorrow, as I have a busy week ahead of me.