Martin and Donna's Wedding

The newly married couple are today flying to New York, having spent an amazing week in the sunshine of the Dominican Republic. 

(Not that that kind of honeymoon makes me envious in any way. Oh no.... having had the opportunity to spend a week on a Caribbean Cruise for our honeymoon, but ended up in a teeny weeny, cold, damp apartment in rainy Wales ... why on earth do you think I'd be envious?

And anyway, that's 25 years ago. Who even remembers that? Yeah, as the Builder knows, I do. And the kids and I bring the whole saga up regularly. Oh yes....  We're so good to him, aren't we!)

Anyway. Our newly married couple. The ones who are honeymooning in the Dominican Republic. And then in New York - yeah, them ...

The bride's family. Her mum and dad have been our friends for a long, long time, and don't y'all find that, as you get older, old friends become even more precious to you. I will have a photo of the bride's mum with her hat too, so you will see her whole gorgeous outfit. 

Our friends' children become precious to us too, don't they? I'm sure they have no idea, but they are so often in my prayers.

The bride's sister was the chief bridesmaid, and her two daughters were also bridesmaids. This whole family made me smile so much through the day. The wee boy .... well, y'all know me and wee boys, and this fella made me completely fall in love. The girls were not only beyond bonny, but they were so pleasant to speak to, and were full of beans all day. Delighful. 

How's this for a capture? Most of the photos here were taken by our friend, Domhnall Twin, who was also clicking away at our own wedding last year. Again, thank you, Donald, for these photos.

I must say I was blown away by the whole 'look' of the bride. The whole Audrey Hepburn look suited her to a tee. Donna, your choice of dress was spot on!

And just to prove that the wedding party had a husband too ...! A wedding just isn't a wedding without an array of kilts, and this wedding didn't disappoint.

I do love a fella in a kilt. (Do y'all remember the Builder at Catherine's wedding? No? .... hang on - just let me find a photo ...


Forgive me. I realise this is a total gratuitous use of a photo of the Builder in his kilt, and right in the middle of a post about someone else's wedding. Unforgivable, Anne. 

But what's a person to do?

Okay, back to the wedding.

This was our table. It was so good to be able to catch up with our friends from home. Good food, good company, and many good laughs ... what more could you ask for at a wedding!

'Twin', the Builder, and the minister who married the couple. There was a quite cool connection between the Groom and the minister. Apparently, when Rev MacDonald left school (or was still at school, maybe?), he had a part-time job at a local Cash 'n' Carry, and who worked alongside him but the man who was marrying here. The Groom recalled them having their lunchbreaks in the Rev's bright red Fiat Panda.

Betcha they looked really cool, eh!

But isn't providence amazing! As is island life :)

I told you I'd show you a photo of the bride's mum. Her outfit was absolutely gorgeous, and I'm not sure the photo shows the gorgeous colour properly. Here she is with Twin, lest any of you are confused as to whether this fellow became her husband somewhere between the first photo and here. 

Many of the guests at Donna and Martin's wedding had been at our own wedding. Again, it was so good to catch up with them all.

What was I saying about 'old friends'? Us three were converted around the same time - in the 80s. I'll tell you a wee story, actually, about Christina, the bride's mother, Donna - the bride, and me. When Donna was a newborn baby, myself and another friend (who's now in Glory) went to visit mum and baby. These were my pre-married days, and I did not 'do' babies. I had no idea how to deal with a baby, and as far as I was concerned, every baby looked the same, and because they didn't converse with me, I honestly had no clue what to do with them.

Well, Chrissie Mary and I had been sitting for a while with Christina, who had the baby in her arms, when Christina got up to go and make a cuppa. She duly plonked the baby in my arms. MINE! I just looked down at this .... baby .... lying across my lap. Aghast.... Horrified.... they don't even come close to how I felt. The sweat was beginning to form, and I glanced up at Chrissie Mary with a "Save me" look, and simply held both arms out straight - baby lying across them - and said, "Seo. Gabh thus' am beabaidh" ("Here, you take the baby")

Oh the relief to have baby-free arms once she took the wee doll.

And, oh, how things change over the years! It's amazing that this same 'get this baby off me' person became the broody baby-hugger I turned into! 

I don't know if our bride even knows that story! I must tell her some day. After their honeymoon. You know, the one that's not in Wales.

No kilt, but still so bloomin' handsome. 


Friends. And sisters. What great gifts.


Clothes Shopping and My Board of Fashion

The Builder and I were at home for a wedding recently, and I'll show you photos of the bride and the wedding itself later. But as y'all know, a wedding means a dress. A dress means shopping. And clothes shopping - for me - means a problem.

Indeed, not a problem, but many problems.

On the Saturday before the wedding, I spent the morning in a car garage with the Builder, trying out cars with a view to changing our own, and the afternoon dress shopping. I don't need to tell y'all that I loved every minute of the morning's 'shopping', but oh boy, the dress shopping. Oh. Boy.

I tried on about five hundred and seventy-three dresses, and I took photos of every one and sent each photo to my Board of Fashion so they could decide on the suitability of each one. 

My Board of Fashion consists of a friend, my sister, and my two daughters. They spent the afternoon online giving their opinions.

Our conversations varied, but normally, they went something like this:

Board member: Erm, no. That dress doesn't work. I mean ... do you like it?
Me: No, not really ... I'll try the next one on.

Board member: You look like you're applying for a job in M&S. Um ... and not as a model.


Board Member: For crying out loud, woman, stand up straight. 

I felt like Jane, being told off by Mrs Bennett. You remember the scene?

"Oh, sit up straight, Jane! Pull your shoulders back! A man could go a long way without seeing a figure like yours, if you could only make the most of it!"

Not that I think that whole comment applies to Moi. Not that I was trying to attract Mr Bingley. And not, I hasten to add, that I liken my sister to Mrs Bennet.

Well, not much anyway.

I thought this might work. It was a fit-and-flare (I almost know what I'm talking about here, don't I?) and whilst on the hanger, it looked like it might fit me.

Why do clothes on hangers still fool me? Even in the Petite section, clothes are not made for people like me. Ohhhh no. They are for ... and I quote: 5ft 3in and under. 

But herein lies the problem. The 'and under' part includes me. Three inches may not seem a lot to all you normal people out there, but three inches out of five foot is a huge 5%. I think that's right, and that's huge. Three inches off means the dress waistline may sit around my hips. That's not a good look. 

Believe me, I know.

Three inches means that the hemline goes from an 'elegant knee length' to dangling somewhere mid-calf.

Again ... not a good look. 

This particular dress gave rise to this conversation:

Board member: Are you for real? You're going to a wedding, not a funeral!
Me: A funeral?? This has pink flowers on it. 
*I proceed to quickly send a close-up of the dress, clearly showing pink flowers. Not funeral-ly at all*
Board member: Anne, I'd wear that on a Saturday for round the house.
Me: *gulp*
Board member: Can it actually be true that you're my sister?

On the final day's shopping - the day before we travelled home - I finally tried on my last dress, and changed back into ME clothes.

This was the dress my Board chose. It was navy, had a funny band at the bottom of the skirt which was odd and made it longer than it ought to have been, but my trusted Board insisted it was not to be taken to a dressmaker for the chop. I was to wear it as it was.

Who am I to argue?

Related Posts with Thumbnails