Tag Archives: wedding

Nazdrowie! Part Two


Have you noticed how buying even very simple things in a foreign county can be so very challenging?

Boofuls and me had an hour or so to kill before getting showered and changed for the wedding so we headed off into town for a coffee. This’ll be simple, I thought as I walked up to the counter to order to coffees. “Cappuccino?” I enquired to met met with an affirmative nod. “OK, Two cappuccino’s, prosze.” I said in my best Ponglish ( Ponglish being a mixture of Polish and English widely used in Boofuls’ place of work). As I said it I held up two fingers (No, not like THAT!) to indicate that I meant two coffees.

The woman responded in kind by holding up two fingers back to me ( Yes, like THAT but I don’t think she meant that. I hope not, anyway.) as she said it she said what sounded remarkably like “One?”

“Two” I repeated with my two fingers. ‘One?” came back with the two fingered salute.

I just nodded and hoped for the best. I’m not sure what the Polish word is for ‘two’ but I think it’s ‘one’. You’ll be relieved to know that in the end I did indeed get two coffees.

Anyway, moving on to the wedding reception:

Every country has its traditions when it comes to weddings. With marvelous programmes like Four Weddings to watch we have a much better understanding of what happens at an American wedding ie after the ceremony everyone eats as much as possible from the mountains of food on offer before going in to eat a full meal.

At an English wedding reception the guests stand around with a glass of warm sparkling wine for a couple of hours while gazing desperately round the room to see if there are any canapes on offer. If there are canapes then they tend to be tinier than an atom and have to be snatched swiftly from the tray of the passing waitress as she whizzes round the room as if the object of the exercise is more to let the guests see how pretty they are rather than to let them actually be eaten. Maybe the idea behind it is that by the time the guests get in and fed they are just so relieved to have got some food inside them that they will happily sit through the, usually dire, speeches. The meal is followed by a lull of another couple of hours while everyone hangs around not knowing what to do till the disco starts up for the evening ‘do’.

None of the above prepared us for the Polish wedding experience.

As we entered the reception hall we were given sparking wine with which to toast the bride and groom. That was the formality of the day over. The glasses were cleared away, the band started to play, the guests sat at the beautifully decorated and groaning with food tables. Plates and plates of food were on offer. While I was gazing with awe at the vast array of food and deciding what I would try first, I noticed that instead of wine glasses on the table there were shot glasses and tumblers. Next I noticed bottles of pop and bottles of vodka. “Wow! This is going to be different”, I thought. I wasn’t wrong.

Boofuls and me were stood around feeling like the proverbial spare groom when a lady about my age came and spoke to us. Well, I say spoke, that was after she’d grabbed me and planted three kisses on my cheeks. “Hello.I am  Peter’s mother. You will sit with us and my daughter’s will look after you.”  So we did and so they did. We were made to feel so welcome, our every wish or need was anticipated and catered for. I truly don’t think we’ve ever been made to feel more welcome.

The next thing that happened was that platters and platters and yet more platters of hot food were brought out.  It turned out that every hour and a half for twelve hours more hot food arrived. The band played on. Guests got up and danced. The band stopped playing and people sat down to eat again or went outside for a breath of fresh air.  The party just carried on. We danced, drank, ate, joined in with the many drinking games the singer initiated  and enjoyed every minute until about two in the morning when we ran out of steam and went to bed. Apparently the band played till four and the last guest left at six. These people know how to party!

The following day we were told to be back at the reception venue for 2pm as the party was to continue. Really? Yup! The party started as if it hadn’t left off. By 2.10 it was back in full swing! How marvelous! I was offered the country pate, the home smoked ham, the home pickled gherkins.  I even had a go at the tripe soup, flaczki, which is allegedly very good as a hangover cure – and surprisingly tasty.  I was  offered some of the 75% proof vodka, which I gracefully declined after a sniff of it reminded me of surgical spirit. There is no way that was going inside my body!

Language barrier? Didn’t notice one! The language of fun and friendship won the day!

No speeches, no formality, no worrying about which side you’re supposed to wear your flower on, no huge women looking stupid in  teeny fascinators, no language barrier ( after a vodka or two).

What on earth had I been worried about? I wonder if we can blag an invite to another Polish wedding?

Nazdrowie! Part one


It’s been a long time coming but it finally arrived – the wedding we’ve all been waiting for.

I’ll call the couple Peter and Matea, because that’s their names.

Peter and Matea, Polish friends of ours got married in a town in Poland with far to many c’s z’s and s’s in it’s unpronouncable name. . They invited us to the wedding well over a year ago and we accepted the invitation thinking how nice it would be to experience a wedding in a different culture. As the big day approached, we started to get cold feet thinking that we’d be the only English speakers other than the bride and we’d be sat around like..like….well – a spare groom at a wedding. Mr and Mrs No Mates.

Friday afternoon arrived and we set off to Liverpool Airport for the first leg of our journey to Sczczcwsczwczwzswczwscsk. Bag (yup, singular. At £50 a bag to use the hold we decided we’d be frugal with the luggage) duly checked in we decided to go and get a bite to eat and relax before our flight.

( This is when a whole different story began – but I’ll save that one for another day. All I’ll say now is: Bloody estate agents and bloody pushy time wasters. Gggrrrr.)

Arriving in Poland we found ourselves in a country where shops still close on Sundays, where good manners are the norm not the exception and where when a man is formally introduced to a woman he kisses her hand and nobody laughs, mocks or think they’re weird. It was a bit like stepping back in time twenty years and I liked it.

Since we arrived in Poland  quite late we made our way to the hotel, treated ourselves to  quick gin and tonic and headed straight off to bed. We were exhausted.

Next morning – the day of the wedding.

Breakfast was a bizarre concoction of cheese, hot dog sausages,smoked ham,  scrambled egg made with artery clogging amounts of butter, tomatoes and cucumber.  Apart from the scrambled egg it was pretty much a ploughman’s lunch, all it was lacking was a bit of Branston pickle. Still, when in Rome and all that. I imagine the Poles think that our full English breakfast is a bit odd.

We tucked in, well, ok, I did give the hot dog sausages a miss, even for me that’s a bit much for first thing in the morning, then we set off to  Sczczcwsczwczwzswczwscsk.

With Google maps and my mobile phone sat nav on the go we managed to make it relatively easily to the hotel in a not unreasonable 2 hours. Time for lunch, a stroll round the town and still plenty of time to get our best bib and tucker on for the ‘do’.

Suitably dressed up, we set off for the church, a five minute stroll from our hotel. It’s a good job it wasn’t much further given that I  wearing the most ridiculous heels.

As we arrived at the church we realised that another wedding was still going on. We were standing  back out of the way watching as the bride and groom came out of the church. We thought we’d wait until they’d got in their car set to off to their reception before we’d go in the church so as not to be disrespectful.  As I was looking at the bride I glanced up to see our bride and groom frantically waving to us “GET IN THE CHURCH!!!!”

OH!  Didn’t expect that! This is going to be more different than I thought!

I’m sure the ceremony was lovely. Obviously we didn’t understand a single word of it. I was quite entertained by the old tramp who came in for a look, walked right to the front and plonked himself a pew on the front row. Matea was too nervous to notice though – probably a good job. I don’t think she’d have taken kindly to a tramp gatecrashing her wedding.

Once the ceremony was over and the obligatory hat was passed round for money – I think that’s understandable in any language, we left the church as the next bride turned up and made the short walk to the reception venue.

And that, my friends is a whole different chapter in the story. Don’t miss it!

Have I done something to offend you?


We recently shot a wedding at a gorgeous castle. The setting was spectacular. The parking was dire. I had to lug two large camera bags, a reflector and a tripod, all in one hand, a quarter of a mile uphill in blazing hot sunshine from the nearest car park while shoving a dry turkey sandwich into my mouth with the other hand. It has to be dry due to my propensity for slopping any kind of food down my front – it has to be able to bounce of my ample bosom without making a mark when I’m working, hence the dry to the point of feeling like I was eating wood, sandwich.

Anyway, back to the plot. The castle was amazing, what a fantastic backdrop to the wedding. There was pathos, sentiment and drama in equal measure, I so wish I could tell you all about it but it would be unprofessional of me. All I can say is that it would have made a brilliant episode in a soap opera.

After the ceremony, the plan was to photograph the group shots and the bride and groom in the castle grounds. Perfect. Except the bride and groom were smokers and the rules say that smoking can only take place outside the castle walls so they kept buggering off outside. Add that to the fact that we were only at the castle for less than two hours and  the family drama which took up a large proportion of the time, and the end result is a photographer tearing her hair out  as she tried jolly folks along  and  round them up for the photographs they would undoubtedly complain they didn’t have if I hadn’t managed to get them.

A photographer’s lot is not always a happy one. let’s not even talk about the dog portrait last weekend when the ridiculously huge German Shepherd seemed awfully keen to take Boofuls’ face off.

Eventually, I managed to round up the family and got a few shots. As the happy couple were leaving in their car I thought it would be nice to get a shot of the car going down the drive with the brightly sunlit castle in the background. Click, click, click, I rattled off half a dozen shots, knowing that I’d have to do some photoshop tweaking as bright sunlight  and dark shiny cars are a tricky combination to work with.

One of the staff from the castle, well, I say staff, judging by his haughty manner he might well have been the Lord himself  for all I know, snotty bastid, came over to me.

“Let me see those shots”, he demanded. I showed him the shots. “Bit of a white balance problem going on there.”

At that point I knew I was dealing with a tit as his comment was totally off beam.  He went on..

“Did you shoot the whole wedding with your camera on auto?”

I was affronted. “No, I happen to have a degree in photography.”

“Really?” was his reply.

Excuse me?

I was shocked, upset and very angry after our short exchange. What I did to upset this chap who I hadn’t even clapped eyes on till this point I have no idea but I’d obviously done something to offend him.

So there we are. I’d been so excited about working at this lovely venue and in the end it was stressful, difficult and I got insulted into the bargain.

Like I said, a photographer’s lot is not always a happy one.

Two funerals and a wedding


Boofuls and me seem to be going for the ‘most funerals attended in 12 months’ award.  We’re going to one on Monday and maybe another on Wednesday. When will it end? It’s getting beyond a joke, all this.

There’s hardly a person I know who isn’t grieving at the moment, ( I just scared myself then so I’m changing the subject quickly so there’s no fate tempting going on).

Tonight we had a couple due to come and visit the studio to view their wedding proofs.  They were due at 7pm at the studio. I’ve spent a fair amount of time in there today moving things around and beautifying it. It looks very nice, if I do say so myself.

Right way up and upside down

Hehe  I couldn’t resist taking the photo using the reflections in our shiny new coffee table.

Before I knew it it was almost 5 o’clock. It was  going to be a rush to get home, get fed, changed and back down there in plenty of time for the couple arriving.

Making a brief detour into Sainsbury’s for a bottle of ‘better than half price’ champagne and a few nibbles on my my way home, I arrived back home  to see a large electricity board van parked on our track.

“There’s a fault on the line, the power will be off for about an hour.”

“An hour?”

“Well, y’know.”

“Anybody’s guess then.”

“That’s about it.”

At the point of walking into my freezing cold house, it was actually warmer outside, I made the decision that we’d be going out for a pub meal tonight before going back to work. Boofuls arrived home, shaved and  changed in record time and we made our way to the pub. So did about 6 million other people.

“We’ll never be out in time, let’s go for a chippy tea.”

I was elected to go in and order while Boofuls parked on the double yellows outside. It has to be that way round because I wouldn’t have parked there without having a nervous breakdown. I’d have made him walk the 200 yards from the nearest legal parking space. Parking illegally doesn’t worry Boofuls though as it goes without saying that rules don’t apply to him.

In the chippy, one we’ve never been in before, I was idly glancing around, as you do, when my eye fell upon a poster from the NFFF proclaiming how fish and chips is good for you and is practically one of your five a day. It stated that fish and chips has ‘Less fat and less calories than most other takeaways.’  Resisting the urge to reach into my bag for a pen to correct the abysmal grammar I muttered under my breath, ‘It’s ‘FEWER’ calories. Less fat and fewer calories.’ Tsk.

Mind you I don’t suppose you can ask too much from a chippy that advertises ‘chicken currie’ God help us. That’s as bad as my other pet hates, ‘potatoe’ and that serious misuse of the possessive apostrophe as in, ‘We sell hot pie’s.’  I always get funny looks when I ask them “Hot Pie’s what, and does he know you’re selling his stuff?”

Let’s have a competition!!! Guess what NFFF stands for – without googling it. Best answer wins absolutely nothing but if you make me laugh you can have a small amount of kudos.

Anyway – back at the ranch: We polished off the fish and chips in the canteen at work and I set about getting everything ready for our bride and groom.

The studio looked gorgeous, it was lovely and warm, we had candles twinkling, mood lighting, champagne, nibbles, a fabulous furry black throw for the settee and a lovely slideshow of images from the wedding.   I wasn’t totally impressed with Boofuls when he plonked his cup on the coffee table and ruined the whole effect but it wasn’t there for many seconds.

The B, G and her M all loved the photos which always makes me happy.  To be honest I was a bit surprised when the bride’s Mum arrived as well, I’ve seen her more than I’ve seen the groom but never mind, at least she’s always enthusiastic.

Here are a few pics from their wedding. Obviously I don’t want to identify them on here so there’ll be no faces on show.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

ps Can’t get the slideshow to run without including the studio pic in there which I don’t want to do so just click on the box above and it’ll pop open like magic.

Bits and pieces


So, that’s the first wedding of this year over and done with.  A gorgeously tall, elegant, beautiful, confident bride married her very sweet, honey monster looky like during an exceedingly short ceremony. Blink and you’d have missed it.

Even the registrar said to me” God, I’ll have to pad this out or the other registrar won’t have time to fill in the marriage certificate.”

It was definitely a case of: ‘Do you? Do you? You’re married.’

Still, it gave us a bit more time for photographs which is a good job because they’d forgotten to tell us they had a receiving line and that took half an hour off our time. You can shoot a lot of photos in half an hour so I wasn’t totally impressed.

In that lull between the wedding seasons I always forget how much like walking a tightrope over a pit of crocodiles wedding photography can be. It’s a good job I love the adrenalin rush,  work fast and  have such a pleasant and laid back disposition. Hahaha.

Lesser women have crumbled under the pressure of herding the cats…er I mean guests into the correct combinations for the photos  they’ll moan like hell about if you don’t manage to get.

So tell me again why  am I a wedding photographer?

Oh yes.

The weather forced us inside for the couple’s ‘special’ pictures.  The light was amazing in there, soft and romantic. You know instantly when you’ve bagged a special shot and there were quite a few. I couldn’t wait to get home and download the images and I wasn’t disappointed.

That’s why I shoot weddings – because  it it’s exciting, it gives me a chance to get creative and because I  just love everything about them.

***********

The trouble with frameless glasses is that I can never find the buggers when I’ve put them down. This morning I’ve wasted more time than is sensible looking for them only to discover they were right on the desk in front of me. I need reading glasses to find my reading glasses!

********

Big N seems to have forgotten that he’s not a chef any more.  He came home from work on Friday and announced that he was making a sticky toffee pudding. ‘Yum, nice Friday night treat.’ I thought.

He then went on to make a restaurant sized pudding, 24 portions if you please.

That’s eight portions each!

24 portions of sticky toffee pudding sitting in my fridge along with a huge tub of extra sticky toffee sauce. That’s just torture. How the hell am I going to keep my mitts off that?

To make it even worse, when Boofuls went out to get our Chinese take away last night (special chow mein, very nice)  he also came back with a family sized bar of  Dairy Milk with Crunchie. Aaaaarrrgghh!!

Definitely a lesson in self control.

*********

Did I mention that our house is off the market?

I’ll say that again. off the market.

After three years, four estate agents, £50,000 reduction off the price and a couple of false hopes of a sale we have decided to stay put until the property market picks up again.

Do you wanna buy a farm? Well it’s too late, mate. You had your chance.

Heheheeeeee.

Apart from all the really good reasons we had, and still have,  for selling up and moving, I never really wanted to go. Which is probably exactly why it didn’t sell, if you believe in universal energy.

Now of course I want to get on and do all the work that needs doing round here. You know, all the jobs we have been deliberately leaving because we thought we were moving out.

It’s been a funny day one way and another


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:

Boofuls

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.

It finally happened!


Major camera failage at a wedding. Thank God we take spares!!

My No 1 camera died on me even before the ceremony had started. Poor old B had to relearn how to use the 20D again in a hurry as I commandeered his 1D for the day.

There was a guest at the wedding who very nearly got a brick round his head. Known in the trade as an ‘Uncle Bob’ he was annoying, rude,interfering, intrusive and in my way! I tripped over him several times as he shot photos over my shoulder after I’d set them up. GGGGRRRRRR!!!!

When he started to rearrange my shots I suffered complete sense of humour failure. Obviously fancied himself as Yervant. I know guests want to take photos and I’ve no issue with that, it’s a special occasion and of course they want to take photos. I’ve even been known to take a batch of guests cameras up my stepladder so I can fling them over the wall take a group shot for them but I don’t expect them to be literally shooting over my shoulder and directing the proceedings. The cheeky bastid even used my  stepladder!!!

I got rid of him when we got to the couples shots, so he sent a kid along with a video camera – I got rid of that bugger as well. He probably doesn’t realise that’s a common ploy that I’m well used to. Even the b & g were pissed off with him.

On the plus side, the rain stayed away, in fact it was a very pleasant afternoon and the b & g are a fabulous couple, I can’t wait to see them again. The photos have all been downloaded and backed up and they look great.

Time for a congratulatory glass of wine.

What a carry on!


I’ve just spent the last ten minutes trying to log in to here. So many passwords and usernames to remember!!!

Anyway, I’m here now.

It would have been worth all the hassle if I’d even had anything exciting to tell you but sorry, nothing to report.

I decided to throw myself into  f-f-f-f-fashion and wear my new leggings and long jumper yesterday. The trouble with leggings is ……………oh, oh!!  hang on a minute. I’ve just remembered I have a new reader, C’s friend, Ben *waves* Hi, Ben!   I’m not sure he’s ready for this story, it might leave him psychologically scarred for life.

So, leaving the camel’s toe  alone ( actually, not so much the camel’s toe as the whole bloody camel ) …let’s move on.

Out at doggy boot camp the other night it became really obvious that THE DOG’S A GENIUS!!!

Having missed three weeks of training she still managed to come top of the class and in two weeks will be graduating to the next level.  If only I could get her to walk on the lead and poo directly into the bag she’d be just about perfect.

It was more than a bit lively at the class this week. a stonking great weimaraner was attempting to eat every dog smaller than itself. There was a lot of barking and snarling going on – and that was just the owners!

The plan for today is to not get soaked to the skin at the wedding we’re shooting today. It’s not the nicest venue inside or out so we’re going to have to keep our wits about us looking for suitable locations for the couples  and large group shots.  We’ll need to work like the clappers as well because we’ve only got an hour and a half to get all the photos done before they go in for their meal. No pressure then!  Here’s one of my favourite photos from the last wedding we shot:

Love and marriage go together like a horse and carriage

We went down onto the canal for a few photos, a couple of swans that I’d paid earlier turned up at the right moment to add a bit of romance to the proceedings.

Although personally, I think this is a far more interesting image:

Ripples and reflections

I don’t suppose it’ll make it to the album though.

What a weekend: part one


What a hectic, fun packed, tiring weekend that was. I’m exhausted.  Ooohh, I love a good wedding – and it certainly was a good wedding.

The plan to get changed at the hotel, in the toilets if it was too early to check in,  was jettisoned when I realised that I wasn’t able to get myself into my underpinnings without at least one extra person to lever me into them.  I didn’t really fancy asking a total stranger to help me get the chesticles under control.

B obliged by sticking his knee in my back and pulling at the offending article until it gave in and met up in the middle. Bloody strapless bras, in order for them to do their job with mammoth mammaries they have to be so tight round the ribs that breathing becomes an optional extra. It’s no wonder Victorian women fainted all the time. Note to self: remember to take only shallow breaths or the whole thing could ping off at any moment like Barbara Windsor’s bra in ‘Carry on Camping’. What if it landed on the vicar’s head?!!   Ooo-er Mrs…..doesn’t bear thinking about.

After a flurry of excitement  and last minute panics we finally got on the road to Bradford, me and B with M & S and C followed behind in her car with her friend Ben.

Arriving at the hotel the first thing we saw was a very nervous groom pacing up and down the car park. Hehe, I’ve never seen him nervous before. We got that first, awkward hour over with when no one knows where to go or who to speak to and made our way up to where the ceremony was to take place.  The atmosphere was really lovely. B and me were sat next to the bride’s Grandma, she was made up when I curtsied to her. As witnesses, me and B had been placed nearish to the front of the room, while the peasants rest of our friends and family were a bit nearer the back.

Bit of a mistake really, putting us right behind the bride’s Mum. Her sobbing (with joy I hope) was very infectious. I could feel myself filling up with tears every two minutes. I cried at the music, the little bridesmaid running to her dad (the groom)when she saw him, shouting “Daddy!!” I cried at Vicky’s Mum crying, the bride’s entrance, the reading. the bride and groom’s emotional responses.  Sod the mascara, I wept like a baby through the whole  thing. You’d think I’d be immune to it in my job, wouldn’t you?

The service was really personal and very moving, even B got a bit of dust in his eye.

Sob, sob, sob

Here’s the bride’s Mum having a rare dry eyed moment…..oh no. I got that wrong, there she goes again!

Of course, after the emotion came the giddyness. Boobs (mine) being the joke of the weekend, Stu started it all off by asking for a pint of Titley’s. Well, that was the start of a good 10 hours of laughing, drinking, eating and general merry making.

Kev and Vik had decided to split up groups of people and put them on tables with people they didn’t know. If I’m honest I was a bit concerned about that and not particularly looking forward to being sat with total strangers. How wrong can you be? It was a stroke of pure genius.

They’d obviously spent a lot of time thinking about who would get on well with whom and it paid off. What a hoot! The lady sat next to me instantly told me that she’d been looking forward to meeting me and she knows me as ‘lesbian.’

“Excuse me, did you say ‘lesbian?”

“Yes, Vik was telling me about you and your husband and I thought she said, ‘my lesbian bob’, and it just stuck”

Well, after an ice breaker like that you can’t fail but get on, can you?

The meal was excellent and she best man’s speech was riotous. Not in the least bit smutty, he talked about Kev’s various madcap activities, which have apparently included, golf, climbing, walking, cycling and  potholing. “Have you ever wondered what it’s like, potholing? Well, look down your toilet, it’s like climbing down that.” The place was in stitches, it was without exception the best best man’s speech I’ve ever heard, and I’ve heard a lot!

Best mans' speech

“Crawling down potholes this small.”

The meal was lovely. The jury is still out on the exact ingredients of the soup. We know it was very tasty and that it was green, of  it’s greenness there is absolutely no doubt but was it celery, leek and potato, asparagus or some other green vegetable that chooses to remain anonymous? Answers on a postcard.

The main meal of chicken in cream sauce with roasties (my favourite) and beautifully cooked vegetables was gorgeous. I could have eaten mine and B’s.  Pudding was wedding cake, very nice it was too. That is my clumsy way of getting this picture in:

After the ‘after the meal and before the evening reception’ lull, we sat outside on the patio, people kept coming by and joining us, they’d stay for a while and then off they’d go again to be replaced by someone else. It was so sociable, everyone just joined in with everyone else. One couple came to join us and the chap sat down and introduced himself by saying:  “Hello, my name’s Warren, I’ve got a rabbit up my arse.”

We sat there stunned for a minute until we got the joke then we all fell about laughing as his wife asked us if we’d like to see her ‘gift’. She lifted up a gift bag and took a beautifully gift wrapped package out of it. “Isn’t it pretty?” she said. “Hang on”, I said, “it’s got a spout sticking out of it, it’s a bloody wine box!”

“Well, you don’t want to be paying bar prices, do you? We always take a box, wrapped for whatever the occasion is. Would you like a glass?”

I sat there gobsmacked while everyone else laughed at me.  Oh! The stuff I’ve learnt!!   It would appear that the only people who pay bar prices are me and B, every bugger else secretes their alcohol about their person or in their room, popping upstairs for regular refills.  Even our own daughter knows about this and declares us to be “Soooooooo naive!” How did I get to this age without knowing that!

A fourteen year old boy taught me about the fastest way to get drunk.  I’m not sure you really want to know this but I’ll tell you anyway.

The secret is  to pour said alcohol into your arse.  Yup. You read that correctly.

Into. Your. Arse.

Classy.

Actually, I think it could be marketed as the:

‘Alcoholic Colonic’

Kill two birds with one stone. Clean yourself out and get drunk simultaneously. Every bottle of booze comes with it’s own funnel and hosepipe.

Personally, I think that if you are that desperate to get drunk you may have a teensy weensy problem that needs sorting out a bit sharpish.

The bride and groom did their first dance for us, stating off with a slow shuffle and then amazing us all as the music changed by dancing a brilliant samba!  They had been having lessons in private for weeks. That certainly paid off, they looked fantastic and everyone in the room was on their feet cheering them on.

Ok, that’s the end of part one. Tune in for part two tomorrow.

It’s here!


No more sleeps, the day of Vik and Kev’s wedding has finally arrived!  I’m so excited!

The sun’s shining, there’s a very light breeze and it’s all just perfect. There’ll be a lot of spitting and polishing going on for the next couple of hours before we set off for Bradford in our best bibs and tuckers. I’ll be taking a small camera to provide evidence so you can see how elegant we all looked.

It’s a safe bet that Vik will be a a far more serene bride than our last one who came last night to look at her proofs. All the way through her slideshow of 422 photos this size 8 bride complained, ‘my arms look huge, my nose is crooked, my chin’s too pointy, I look cold’ blah de blah de blah blah, very tedious to listen to.  She didn’t moan about her actual photos thought which I’m pleased about.  I’ll be happy when this one’s behind us.

Enough of that! Today is a day to be enjoyed, sod the diet, sod work I’m off to make us bacon buttys and a brew.  See you after the weekend.