41 years on

My take on Johannes’ dream salesman post, and Nigel on his first time…

My memories of getting married are strangely random…

All the effort that Joyce, my terrific new mother-in-law, put into the wedding breakfast.

The fact that the cake wasn’t what we ordered and had to be remade.

The guipure lace on Heather’s gown (she designed and made it, and looked terrific).

Relatives and friends slipping us cash (gratefully received because we weren’t exactly flush).

How much churches hate confetti …  and locking ourselves into the toilets at the ferry terminal to shake it (and the rice) out of our clothes.

A teacher from my old school turning up with his rugby team at our honeymoon hotel. Don’t ask.

Last but not least…

The founders of Queensberry (not yet a glimmer in Heather’s eye) have one photograph of their wedding. And no, I’m not going to show it to you!

That photograph means more to me than that photographer ever dreamed. Trust me, Johannes is right.

I was 22, she was younger. As they say, we’re so blessed.

Cheers, Ian

PS I think our bridesmaid has more photos, but she insists on proving she can still get into her dress before she shows them to us, so we don’t ask too often.

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