Post 435: Weddings. What’s Not to Like?
On a joyous day of celebrating with the family—my family, their family, the whole kabuki—what could possibly go wrong?
Well, obviously there were a few little things, but the main event and the after-party went without a hitch.
If you didn’t enjoy it, it was your own fault.
In the morning, as the clouds parted after another wet night and the warm air returned at once with a vengeance, I received a text from Big Sis, who was already at the hotel after a calamity involving their old white Rover, which has been in the father of the groom’s possession since the late 1980s.
It had overheated.
After the last week of raging temperatures—a real Flaming June—I suppose it had finally given in to what we’d all been suffering.
Rarely has there been a June like it.
It meant an early trip home for the car, though thankfully there was still plenty of time to return for everything the wedding had to offer—apart from arriving in the Rover, of course.
I could almost read the disappointment in her text, but there was little I could do from where I was. A big hug later would have to suffice.
I suspected there might be a few wet eyes by the time we all gathered at the seafront hotel, but that’s natural.
Our little household of four—now including our eldest and his lovely wife—decided to head out for breakfast first. A case of self-preservation.
The wedding, in a small but perfectly formed ceremony room beside the bar and lounges, wasn’t until 4.30 pm, so with it only just after midday, there was no rush. We all needed a good, healthy start.
Breakfast would be full of chatter.
Before we left, we altered the car insurance so that our eldest could drive for the day.
Brilliantly done, My Darling.
It was her idea and meant that we could both enjoy the occasional celebratory drink with smiles all round.
We filled up at our bellies at the local café and chatted about this and that.
They had been to see our youngest the previous day, so they’d enjoyed plenty of cuddles with the mum-to-be, who was, apparently, absolutely radiant—as we would all notice later at the wedding.
Parking became the hot topic of conversation, but time slipped away far too quickly, and by the time we got back home we suddenly realised we had to get our proverbial fingers out.
After showers, dressing, and the final touches of makeup, we headed off in good time, with our new chauffeur enthusiastically exploring every unnecessary button and gadget the car had to offer.
Modern cars really do have features that make you wonder why they exist at all—but in the end, it’s still the driver who makes the decisions about which ones to use.
The seafront was busy with tourists, while parking attendants paced the promenade keeping everyone in order.
We arrived at almost exactly the same time as my Little Bro and his girls, so we all climbed out, stood chatting while the RingGo parking was sorted on our phones, and then crossed the road to the hotel.
Perfect.
Apart from the usual waiting around to be told where to stand and which room to file into, everything went beautifully.
The sage-green colour scheme, worn by both the men and women, looked wonderfully summery, and with flower petals scattered across the floor and large green bows decorating every chair, it was obvious the main event was about to begin.
Dad proudly walked his daughter down the aisle before stepping back and leaving my nephew to take his bride’s hands.
And we were off.
Within minutes, the registrar had completed all the legal formalities, and the happy couple were walking back down the aisle as husband and wife.
Wonderful.
There were no speeches at that stage—just the inevitable slide towards what felt like an endless series of photographs.
Some were taken in the gardens overlooking the promenade, while others involved stopping the traffic on the zebra crossing, looking rather like a modern version of that famous Abbey Road album cover.
I was looked after so well by everyone.
I wanted for nothing.
I simply sat, watched, chatted, drank, ate, and enjoyed being surrounded by people I love.
The photographs will tell the story for years to come.
It really was one of those special days where the sunshine, the sea and the company combined to create memories that will stay with us forever.
My nephew finally married—just before his fortieth birthday next year.
Wonderful.
Everyone had a fantastic day, and the smiles lasted from beginning to end.
After all the planning, all the preparation and all the anticipation, their married life is now well and truly underway, surrounded by a much bigger family than I’d ever realised we had.
It’s rather daunting becoming one of the older generation.
But someone has to do it, don’t they?
The only minor—and entirely self-inflicted—trauma came when My Darling sustained a dancing injury during a memorable dance-off with the younger nieces.
A little too much enthusiasm under the disco lights proved too much for one of her calf muscles.
We’ll see tomorrow just how bad it is, but I suspect a compression bandage and plenty of rest will be the order of the day.
Still, we all had enormous fun.
Tomorrow, we’ll all recover.
Take care.
Good night.
