I well remember this question being asked by Reverend Bertram Kelly more than a few years ago.

I did as he asked. I promised to look after her, signed the book, swept her off her feet, and galloped away.

Fifty six years later a young man’s gallop has slowed to an old man’s walking-stick assisted trot, but we are blessed to be still together.

Life has been very kind and troubles have been few and easily solved. I remember one occasion, long ago, when I had to dodge a flying shovel of coal that was aimed at my head.

Fortunately, she missed.

My crime, apparently, had something to do with spending too much time in the Hawthorn and then insisting that Pyrex dishes could be safely heated up on an open gas ring.

We have enjoyed many happy and healthy years together and long may they continue.

But we are not immune to reality and we are fortunate to be able to meet the challenges together.

One of these unavoidable life snags arrived when I faced the fact that I would have to give up driving. Parkinson’s Disease can lead you down many roads, and I soon discovered that it would be safer if I became a passenger and someone else (you can guess who) got behind the wheel.

Now the ultimate test of any marriage is for the wife to be the driver and the husband to shout the commands.

A recipe for disaster, you would think.

But it never happened. We swapped jobs and nothing happened.

I had passed that ultimate test. I wish that everything in life could be so easy.

Read on.

It was some time ago when the only real marital problem that we have had in our time together, came into our lives.

It was called the ’Sky+ box’.

It became a nightmare. And worse was to come.

Sky+ had a little sister called Alexa.

Between them, they almost reduced us to breaking point. I had more arguments with Alexa in three months than I had with my wife in 53 years.

Alexa just would not do what she was told.

She always knew best.

I had no peace at all, so I packed her up in a box, cancelled the contract and sent her back to where she belonged.

Peace at last, or so I thought. But we still had her big brother.

The plot thickens.

Now, when we first became a customer of Sky, we had taken the bait that was dangled in front of our collective nose and signed the contract.

In return for a reasonably priced monthly payment, we received a small black box, a dish shaped aerial and the services of a pleasant young engineer who made it all fit together.

Everything was fine.

Everything worked and we were happy. But there is always something better. Something to tempt an eager customer to part with more cash.

From time to time the postman would deliver a update from Sky to keep us informed of the latest developments in satellite television.

As the saying goes, ’I can resist anything except temptation’.

Once again, we were hooked. There it was, in the latest message from Sky.

It was called Sky+ .

Now we had originally signed on the dotted line to be able to record programmes that we would otherwise have missed.

Now, Sky was good but Sky+ was brilliant.

Yes, it would cost a bit more each month, but compared with what we already had, it was like chalk and cheese.

So, here we are again.

New box, new aerial, same engineer and more cash.

We had Sky+.

You wouldn’t believe what it could do.

The only snag was it was smarter than the two of us together. So here we go again.

Oh no we don’t. Oh yes we do.

Some time ago Pullyman - aka Michael Cowin - was diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease, a condition that affects people in different ways. Michael discovered writing and Island Life is featuring some of his musings. Sometimes topical, sometimes nostalgic, read about life as seen through the eyes of Pullyman