Hair next: I’d thought I’d need to change into the
kaftan before Adrian did his bit, as it’s a fairly tight fit over my head, but
he said no, I could put the kaftan on after, and if I flattened his handiwork a
bit, he could tweak it when he put in the fascinator. He did a great job (well,
I knew he would) and the new cut ten days ago was absolutely the right decision,
despite the fact that my saying I wanted to try something different less than
two weeks before the wedding nearly gave him heart-failure! He says he’ll do
it a bit shorter next time. Left him transforming Petal, and went to continue
the transformation of me – ie, abandoning the usual t-shirt, jeans and trainers
for kaftan and gold flats, which took all of about five minutes. Sioned was
running a bit late – but not enough to make me seriously twitchy! – and turned
up at ten to three with my bouquet and the fascinator. The bouquet, to be
honest, had more roses in it than I’d anticipated, but it was still fairly
modest, and included the Jude blooms from the garden, which was nice. Adrian
I think today, up until about 3.45, could probably be
marked out in terms of the number of cups of tea and coffee Celia made; the
dishwasher certainly seemed to be full of mugs by mid-afternoon! There was
probably another round of cuppas at this stage, but I’d stopped by then –
living in dread of finding myself dying to go to the loo halfway down the
aisle!!! Petal assures me I’ll have far too many other things to think about,
but I’d rather not take the risk. Anyway, all too soon it was time for Petal to
go and “ush”, and she and Norma were gone too, leaving me with just the cats
for company.
The following half hour probably ranks as one of the
strangest half hours of my life. That’s not bad-strange – it was just weird. I
called Beth – I know she’s so disappointed she can’t be here today – and though
her speech was quite good, it was clearly not one of her better days, as she
was convinced I was getting married tomorrow. Still, we sorted that out, and
she was nearly tearful, which nearly made me
tearful, but it was ok. Ten to four – still at least ten minutes before Jeff
would arrive with the car. The house was very quiet, but then, living a
thousand feet up a mountain, four miles from the nearest chance to buy a pint
of milk, you tend to get used to that. It was a glorious day – thank you, God, for that – so I went and sat on the
bench at the end of the house, in the sunshine, where I’d be able to hear the
car when it arrived. Felix would normally have joined me there, but I knew he
was asleep on the bed – trust a cat not to be around when you need him! Thought
about all sorts of things – too many to remember now – but no doubts at all
about what we’re about to do.
Sound of a car, at ten past four, and there was Jeff,
reversing up the drive. Peter got out, and I gave him a hug, and he promptly
responded by saying I looked a bit emotional. Honestly, Pete, what did you
expect?! We went into the house to sort out his buttonhole – it took a bit of
ingenuity, as Sioned had only left one pin, but between the two of us we got
there in the end – then, amazingly, it seemed to be time to leave. I thought
we’d be there early, but Jeff drove at an extremely
sober pace, and in any case didn’t follow the direct route I’d normally take
(too much afraid of meeting a convoy of tractors in one of the narrow bits!) so
we arrived outside the church a few minutes after half past four, and there was
Stan, clearly already well into his role as photographer, though that didn’t
stop him saying “hello, lovely girl”, as he always does, and giving me a large
hug.
I have to say – and this is as good a point as any –
that Stan was absolutely amazing as
photographer: he took so much trouble to get things exactly as he thought they
should be, but it was all done so efficiently and quietly, without any fuss. I
was hardly aware of him during the service, and any instructions he gave us
were brief and to the point. I’m afraid that we may have seemed a tad
indecisive later on when he was asking what pix we wanted, and with whom –
hadn’t really thought about it! – but I’m hoping he’s used to that from newly
married couples, even those of mature years who might have had a bit more
experience of decision-making …
Anyway: some pix at the lych-gate, then the start of
the slow procession, towards Michael who was waiting at the church door, in the
most splendid cope. I completely
forgot about my fears that the kaftan was marginally too long to be worn with
flats (I had warned Peter , in case
he tripped over it, but it turned out not to be a problem) I could see Tom at
the organ; asked Peter , just to be
on the safe side, which way he was going to turn inside the church (left, he
said – wind-up merchant to the last); then it was the opening bars of the “St
Anne” and we were inside, and the door closed behind us (I have no idea who closed it!) A dozen steps
in, Peter said, No going back now,
so I said, I could still make a break for it, to which he responded, No, I’ve
got hold of you. Glad he took his responsibilities so seriously.
A number of things stand out from the service, chief
of which is the feeling of absolute certainty, and extreme happiness, which hit
me about half way down the aisle towards Jules. Other things: not being nervous at all; the way the
running of the service passed so smoothly from Michael to Tom and back again,
several times; looking at Jules early on, and realising that he was close to
tears, so not daring to look at him again until we were actually married, in
case I cried too!; Debs making the reading from Colossians sound so impressive;
forgetting to pick up the ring with my left
hand, until Michael prompted me, then not being able to get it onto Jules’
finger (I managed to get it about half way and had to leave Jules to work it
the rest of the way); Jules forgetting we were allowed to hold hands, but kissing
me instead; remembering the words to all
the verses of both hymns, and to psalm 150 (I had to memorise them since there
was no way of carrying my glasses) and only making one mistake (I think!); Tom
making a splendid job of the pedal part in the last verse of Laudate Dominum; his blessing in English
being substantially longer than Michael’s blessing in Welsh – maybe he put in
some optional extras; and the fact that at the “any just cause” bit, you could
have heard a pin drop – not a cough, giggle or splutter anywhere (though Peter
did admit later he’d intended to sneeze at that stage …)
Over to the other side of the church to sign the
register, in front of the Jesse window. I think there were about ten of us
involved at that stage, but still only one chair at the table, as at the
rehearsal – not sure why! We'd all started to relax a bit by then - the serious stuff was over, and we were actually Mr & Mrs Mitchell-Dawson. Michael took the opportunity to say that the mugs were stunning (we'd given them to him as a carefully wrapped gift yesterday at the end of the rehearsal, so he didn't see them at the time), then we signed the register (last signature as Kath Banks?!) Norma and Rhian witnessed it, and Stan took loads more photos. Tom was filling in on the organ (I think it was "Jesu Joy", but I wasn't paying a lot of attention by this stage!), then it was time to process out. A while back, in an earlier meeting with Michael to talk about the order of service, he'd mentioned that this was sometimes referred to as a recession, and Jules suggested that if we both genuflected, it would be a double dip recession ... wonder what it's going to be like, married to a comic genius?! Anyway, somebody - I think it was Stan - caught Tom's eye to say we were ready, and Jules caught his eye too and said "Fireworks time!", and we were off (slowly!) back down the aisle. The Karg-Elert, and Tom playing it, were splendid; we'd agreed, at the rehearsal, that we'd hold hands rather than going arm-in-arm; I couldn't stop grinning (not even when we stopped half-way down the aisle, at Stan's pre-arranged signal for him to take a pic, when I guess we should have looked a bit dignified - or not?!); and we actually walked out into brilliant sunshine, as advertised.
Lots of photos outside the church of the key protagonists (me, Jules, Frank, Peter, Rhian, Norma, Petal, Michael) during which Stan shut the door on everybody else! I can see the sense of keeping them all out of the way for a few minutes, though, while he did the first group of after-the-event photos, then everybody poured out and it was hugs all round, and more photos.
Some time later (a few minutes? several years?), Jules & I headed towards Jeff and the Jag, and Jeff produced a bottle of Babycham and couple of glasses, which was totally unexpected! Has to be said he had some problems opening the bottle, but in the meantime, Stan took some clever pics using the reflections in the car windows (see gallery!!) Off to Brookhouse; we asked Jeff if he'd come and have a drink, at least, but he said no, he had to get back. Karen, of course, was there to greet us, and asked what we'd like to drink, and we both suddenly realised that what we could really do with was a cup of tea, so by the time everybody else arrived, we were sat in the garden in the late afternoon sunshine enjoying a cuppa! Ok, so it's not that romantic, but it was extremely welcome.
Lots more pics, and a chance to say hello properly to people we'd only seen at a distance in church, or somewhat hurriedly outside the church. Even more pics (bless you, Stan, for taking so many, and for making sure that everybody was included somewhere) then up to the conservatory for supper (by which time the kids - well, Dawn, at least, who'd asked Karen for a crouton! - were absolutely ravenous. Sorry, kids!)
The meal, as expected, was wonderful. Norma's cake, served with coffee at the end, was wonderful. Even the speeches were wonderful! We were particularly impressed with Frank mentioning all five cats by name, and knowing which number episode of The Archers we'd missed this evening! Peter, of course, went in for a good deal of winding-up in his, but did at least apologise at one point (though I can't now remember what he was apologising for). Norma decided, very much at the last minute, to say a few words, during which she said that I don't treat her with the respect due to an aunt, but as she also added "Thank goodness!" I'm not going to worry too much about that (though I shall probably tease her about it for some time to come!). I'd proof-read Jules' speech for him, so I knew most of what was in it, though I also knew there was a bit I hadn't seen: that bit, as it turned out, almost reduced me to tears (for the first time today!) and I'm not going to repeat it here.
Thirty (or thirty-one, to be precise) turned out to be about the right number. I think we got round to talk to everyone, even if not for as long as we'd have liked (I remember at one point thinking we could have done for the reception to have lasted for about a week!) We had, I thought, missed one speech: I'd been convinced Vic would make one, and she said she'd wanted to, but her mum wouldn't let her; Jules and I thought that was a shame, so we got her to make it to just the two of us, and it was excellent - all the right sentiments - thanks, Vic! Dawn wanted one of the sugar flowers from the cake, but I couldn't detach it without breaking the whole thing, so asked Peter for his buttonhole to give her instead, which seemed to make a reasonable alternative. Gave my bouquet to Chloe (I did not throw it - we all know what that means!!!) then more hugs all round, then home.
Lots of photos outside the church of the key protagonists (me, Jules, Frank, Peter, Rhian, Norma, Petal, Michael) during which Stan shut the door on everybody else! I can see the sense of keeping them all out of the way for a few minutes, though, while he did the first group of after-the-event photos, then everybody poured out and it was hugs all round, and more photos.
Some time later (a few minutes? several years?), Jules & I headed towards Jeff and the Jag, and Jeff produced a bottle of Babycham and couple of glasses, which was totally unexpected! Has to be said he had some problems opening the bottle, but in the meantime, Stan took some clever pics using the reflections in the car windows (see gallery!!) Off to Brookhouse; we asked Jeff if he'd come and have a drink, at least, but he said no, he had to get back. Karen, of course, was there to greet us, and asked what we'd like to drink, and we both suddenly realised that what we could really do with was a cup of tea, so by the time everybody else arrived, we were sat in the garden in the late afternoon sunshine enjoying a cuppa! Ok, so it's not that romantic, but it was extremely welcome.
Lots more pics, and a chance to say hello properly to people we'd only seen at a distance in church, or somewhat hurriedly outside the church. Even more pics (bless you, Stan, for taking so many, and for making sure that everybody was included somewhere) then up to the conservatory for supper (by which time the kids - well, Dawn, at least, who'd asked Karen for a crouton! - were absolutely ravenous. Sorry, kids!)
The meal, as expected, was wonderful. Norma's cake, served with coffee at the end, was wonderful. Even the speeches were wonderful! We were particularly impressed with Frank mentioning all five cats by name, and knowing which number episode of The Archers we'd missed this evening! Peter, of course, went in for a good deal of winding-up in his, but did at least apologise at one point (though I can't now remember what he was apologising for). Norma decided, very much at the last minute, to say a few words, during which she said that I don't treat her with the respect due to an aunt, but as she also added "Thank goodness!" I'm not going to worry too much about that (though I shall probably tease her about it for some time to come!). I'd proof-read Jules' speech for him, so I knew most of what was in it, though I also knew there was a bit I hadn't seen: that bit, as it turned out, almost reduced me to tears (for the first time today!) and I'm not going to repeat it here.
Thirty (or thirty-one, to be precise) turned out to be about the right number. I think we got round to talk to everyone, even if not for as long as we'd have liked (I remember at one point thinking we could have done for the reception to have lasted for about a week!) We had, I thought, missed one speech: I'd been convinced Vic would make one, and she said she'd wanted to, but her mum wouldn't let her; Jules and I thought that was a shame, so we got her to make it to just the two of us, and it was excellent - all the right sentiments - thanks, Vic! Dawn wanted one of the sugar flowers from the cake, but I couldn't detach it without breaking the whole thing, so asked Peter for his buttonhole to give her instead, which seemed to make a reasonable alternative. Gave my bouquet to Chloe (I did not throw it - we all know what that means!!!) then more hugs all round, then home.
