The wedding in York yesterday was wonderful. Wonderful that is apart from the 3 hours it took us to complete the one and a half hour journey. The plan had been to set off really, really early, stop for breakfast en route ( aside: for local folk I’d just like to point out that ‘en’ in this instance is pronounced ‘on’ not ‘enn’. Many is the time I’ve heard people tell me about their new ‘enn suite’ bathroom. Makes me cringe every time. God, I’m such a snob).
As soon as we’d had our leisurely breakfast we hit a wall of traffic that lasted the rest of the journey. All our time advantage and plans for a good old mooch round and a recce to check out all the best spots for photographs ebbed away, as did my nice, relaxed mood that I’d started the journey with. BLOODY HELL!!! The knot in my stomach tightened with every snail pace mile. We did get there eventually though and still with plenty of time.
Anyway, the wedding was lovely and very different. St Olave’s church in York was the venue. We’d been informed that photographs during the service were not allowed so that gave us a nice half hour for a bit of shuteye at the back of the church. After the service we took all the guests into the museum gardens for photographs. We’d previously been sent a HUGE email by the bride telling us what we should do, when, who with and how long for. After the big group shot guests were to mingle in the garden. That, of course, just made me laugh and ‘mingle’ ‘mingled’ and especially ‘mingling’ became the words of the day. Isn’t it funny that when you use a word a lot it suddenly sounds ridiculous?
Once the guests had used up there allotted mingling time they were all dispatched back to the hotel for more mingling but this time with drinkies to aid the mingling process. Boofuls and me then spent a few minutes mingling with and photographing the b & g before walking the ten minute walk back to the hotel.
I mention the ten minute walk because Boofuls had scooped up my rucksack and flung it over his shoulder while I was shooting. He also picked up his own rucksack and flung that over his shoulder as well while I, oblivious to it all, just strolled through the streets of York chatting to the b & g and shooting a few frames here and there.
At this point I need to give you a quick 101 on photography.
Rule 1: Take lenscap off
Rule 2: Always check all corners of the frame and the background
Got it? Good.
Because it was only when I got home I saw this photo of the b & g en route to the hotel that I noticed the background. There was my Boofuls!
All loaded up with all the camera equipment and looking less than jolly. What I didn’t realise at the time was that he was in severe pain from his plantar fasciitis (sore foot, to you, Sir) and was struggling to walk at all never mind weighed down like a pack horse. Added to that of course was the pain he was still in from the dental work he’d endured the day before and the fact that he’s just plain knackered from all the hours he’s worked recently.
If you’ve never seen a man at the end of his tether then, ladies and gentlemen, this is what one looks like:
Was it just too mean of me to laugh when I saw it? I howled with laughter!! I could just imagine him walking along like Lurch thinking: ” I’m knackered, my feet hurt, my teeth hurt, mow I’m carrying all the bags and my fooking back hurts as well.”
As I write this I’m still crying with laughter. Sorry Boofuls, it’s just that it’s so…….so………….FUNNY!!!! Not the pain, that’s not funny at all, just his expression and the way he’s walking.
I did buy him a bottle of wine on the way home, oh, er, just remembered, he gave me the money to buy it (better shut up now).
Thankfully the rest of the gig didn’t involve too much walking/talking/carrying and we were on our way home a couple of hours later. Back home, feet up, nice glass of wine, Boofuls was once again a happy boy.