19 July 2014 (Saturday) - My Brother's Wedding
I would have sleppt through last night's storms had "er indoors TM" not left all the lights on. It was that which woke me. And having been woken I couldn't get back to sleep. I was watching "Toddlers and Tiaras" at 7am. Have you ever seen that show? It's an eye-opener.
One thing on that show gave me pausse for thought. One mother on that show was banging on about her religion. Apparently her religion dictates that she should pray for absolutely everything she wants or needs or aspires to in her life. If she gets her way then that is part of God's holy plan for the universe. If she doesn't , then God has something else in mind. So if God has it all mapped out, why is she praying in the first place?
I then sat about frankly wasting time waiting for everyone else for a few hours. I *hate* this early waiting; by the time everyone else is getting up I am bored senseless. Taking "Furry Face TM" round to Singleton for his sleepover came as a blessed releif.
Ass I drove I was amazed at how many trees had come down in last night's storm; Tithe Barn Lane was blocked in two places.
Home to collect "er indoors TM", and then we went on to find "My Boy TM" and the rest of the tribe. With everyone gathered together the taxi soon arrived and we set off to Hastings for a family wedding. The womenfolk went to my brother's house to do whatever it is that they do prior to a wedding. We went to the Duke in Silverhill for a quick shandy to calm pre-nuptial nerves.
There's no denying that my final shot of whisky was something of a mistake; the four pints of ale and copious amounts of Sambucca were a carefully considered decision though.
To the church, where I met up with aunts and uncles I've not seen for ages. It was really good to catch up. After a little while the bride arrived with a gaggle of bagpipers and the service started. It all went very well; only a minor hiccup when one of the witnesses forgot he was being a witness (ahem!). Fortunately Cheryl realised what had happened and bellowed at me to take my place.
I then shouted at the assembled throng to organise them for photos; someone had to, and who better than someone with a big gob? And with everyone photographed we all moved on to the reception. A wonderful spread, good speeches, and a disco that was "none too shabby". A shame the ale was sour and the bar staff were short-changing, but you can't have everything.
I expect there are photos of the bash on-line somewhere; what with all the excitement I never actually took any myself. Well, I took one photo. I should have taken more...