Wedding Day

So it's wedding day.  First family wedding for a few years and my cousin PQ's big day.  As you know, my family isn't exactly harmonious so I've been half dreading this day and it's really taken the shine off the build up.  All I can do is remain...'Switzerland', (neutral) and hope for the best.  I've set my alarm for 7am but I'm wide awake at 6 so I rise for a decent cup of coffee, or as decent as I have in anyway.

My appointment to have my hair put up is at 8.45, I arrive ten minutes early and my hairdresser hasn't arrived yet. 

When she does arrive, I show her the picture on my camera of how her colleague put it up for me for the last wedding I attended.  I loved it and felt amazing with that 'do'.  'You don't want it like that, it's softer now', (says the colleague who put it up for me last time.)  Why do they do that?  If I went in to to the hairdressers and said, 'I'd like a skinhead please.'  I can understand they may say, well I don't actually think that would suit you.  But if I want my hair up in a certain way... the way they did it before, a really classic and lovely way, why can't I have that?

Anyway, it was fine, not totally happy with it but it was OK.  Really need to learn how to do myself though, it cost and arm and a leg.

I got home at 9.30am from the hairdressers and we were aiming to leave at 10, I still had my nails to do, finish my make-up and to dress and check overnight bag.

I spent most of the hour long journey to the church in silence, I was just tense about what may occur, whilst hoping for the best.

The church was beautiful, old, small, intimate, full of character.  There really aren't that many of us but we filled the space, it couldn't have been more perfect.

I thought I was tough enough to withstand the service.  I've been to several cousin's weddings, one nephew's wedding and several friends, plus two sister's.  So I thought that I was tear-proof, experienced enough to make it through the service, but I did almost lose it.  Within a very traditional service, the love between PQ and K was palpable and very touching. 

With the formalities over, the bride and groom exited the church and so did the rest of us, within five minutes, the heavens had opened and my giant brolly had me, two of my grown up cousins and a baby cousin sheltered beneath it.  After a few minutes longer, with the wind picking up, we all retreated back inside the church to shelter and where, happily, tea, coffee and biscuits had been laid on. 

So the bride, unbeknownst to us had arrived by Ferrari, driven by proud Dad.  After a few photos, in between showers, the bride and groom left by said Ferrari.  It was amazing, seeing them drive off in that amazing car with the traditional tin cans tried to the back with string. 

The day was long, but in a good way.  We chatted, mingled, ate, had a little wine, it was a perfect day.

I caught up with my cousin's, some of whom I haven't seen for a few years, and it was just lovely.  At 1.15am, we all toddled off to bed.  Another occasion, another moment in time.