wedding

Wake early, start the shower run. Groom writes his speech at 7am. Boys everywhere. Sister does her hair. Check the speech for the groom, throw together an ipod playlist for the pre‑dinner drinks. Dance around furtniture and people to the bathroom, do make‑up, put on a dress, steam the fascinator. Someone asks who can iron a shirt? I iron the groom's shirt. Someone asks who can tie a cravatte? I tie the groomsmen's cravattes. Golden‑yellow silk at their throats. Where are the cufflinks? We find the cufflinks. Best man checks his pocket once again for the rings. Controlled chaos in the air as 12:30 approaches. Groom pops into town to buy some shoes! Groom's mother goes to her make‑up appointment. We wait, hats on, cravattes tied, dresses flowing and the taxi arrives. To the church!

Scary vicar with Vicar of Dibley's accent. Ceremony, blushing bride barely holding in joyful tears. Blushing groom flanked by his best men. Beautiful bridesmaids in yellow gold with golden yellow hair stand and smile. Vows are made and a kiss is stolen ‑ the priest who openly speaks of the "joyful initmacy of sexcsualle union" does not tell the groom he can kiss his bride. He does anyway and we laugh. We're allowed to clap. Photos are snapped as the third generation of Fewtrell women marries in her childhood church.

Kisses, confetti, shaken hands, congratulations, photos, taxis, offers of a ride; I am taken by a family with two hilarious young (tall) men ‑ one asks where in South Africa am I from!

Scene from a movie as the marquee comes into view; beautiful gardens, lush lawn, old house, Buck's Fizz is thrust into my hand. (Champagne with orange ‑ who knew it had a name!)

Drinks, food, faces are pulled at the disposable camera. Bubble blowers adorn the tables and bubbles adorn the air. Eating, laughing, speeches and happy tears. The bar opens. Whiskey. The photographer "ices a bro"*. A party trick becomes a competition. (The chief bridesmaid wins.) Photos, drinks, the first dance and I'm asked to join the second groomsman. we try the shim sham and are ridiculed by too‑British guests. Drinks, photos, dancing ‑ terrible, hilarious dancing. Photos, drinks, dancing, drinks, shots, too many photos, too many drinks, dancing, shoes off, drinks....midnight. A circle forms, the new Mr and Mrs farewell their guests. Taxis, home, bed, sleep.
(Snoring.)
My friend's wedding was beautiful, happy, sweet and fun; just like the woman he married.