My other half has to put up with a lot: working for me which means basically being bossed around, and living in a home that would never be described as masculine. This means that, in the name of compromise and keeping him happy, I have to occasionally do something he really loves.
This entails me attending a vintage car rally held in our local town, and showing some enthusiasm. Now this can be quite difficult as there are only so many ways you can ooooh and aaaaah over old vehicles and although I do appreciate their age, the rest of it doesn’t really thrill me. As long as I get from A to B, warm and without mishap, I’m happy. Luckily there are like minded people he can talk to and I usually sit in the sunshine with a drink and let him get on with it. This year was slightly different as some friends visited and they were surprisingly keen.
There are races around a small track through the streets, lined with straw bales to protect the public. Between each race all the vehicles are parked in a large square and you are able to wander around and inspect them. It probably helped that there was someone else for him to discuss the cars with, but in the end it was a lovely way to spend an afternoon. Unfortunately he always gets serious and starts googling vintage cars. If it gets more serious and he starts looking to buy one, then of course I may have to put my foot down and say NON.