It is our 26th wedding anniversary today, so I should probably find something complimentary to say about my husband. Trouble is, he has been working from home this week, which means I have had to get up early, because god forbid I should get to sleep in. Then when I am up, every time I turn around, I am tripping over him. Just my luck I was looking forward to a quiet week, the two youngest in camp, the oldest working her volunteer hours, and me with the house to myself, but it was not to be.
Someone once suggested I should blog about our wedding day, so I guess now is a good a time as any. My husband was raised Catholic, and I was raised theoretically Church of England, but more realistically, despite the fact that I once taught Sunday School - hard to believe - I ended up with more of a heathenistic bent. Anyway as a result of my godless upbringing, it was difficult to find a priest that was willing to marry us in a church, so I went to the yellow pages, picked out a non denominational minister and booked my sister's garden for the big day. She had the ideal spot, a house on a lake, in the back of beyond.
Unfortunately I had overlooked that the back of beyond was difficult to get to, and directions were sketchy at best. It was a case of "Take the right hand turn after the big blue house. Follow the signs for the small engine repair, turn off after the damaged mail box, and look for the house with a weather vane. etc etc " There were no roads names, or house numbers, so it was pretty much a crap shoot if the guests even found the place. Fortunately most of the guests did, unfortunately the minister didn't. We had to send out a search party, and then when they didn't return, a rescue team to find both them & the minister. Remember this was before cell phones, never mind Mapquest and GPS.
Meanwhile instead of the bright sunny day that had been forecast, we ended up with a monumental storm and downpour, only hours before the ceremony was due to start. Had I mentioned this was an outdoor affair ? The tables had all been set so we are running around, me in all my finery, veil flapping in the breeze, emptying cups and saucers that had filled with rainwater.
I was starting to think that maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all. My husband to be is in the garage with his brother, slowly getting hammered on gin and tonics, while we waited for the minister. My aunty Kath, who was thrilled to be my matron of honour took her duties very seriously and used this as an opportunity to give me "the talk". To this day I still don't know if she was trying to take my mind off the disaster the day was shaping up to be, or whether she really thought she was imparting words of wisdom. Either way it was definitely an "Eeew ! Gross! " moment, and I was forced cut her off at the pass.
Finally the minister arrived, the guests are assembled, and it is time for me to make my grand entrance. My sister's house was built on a slope, with entrances on two separate levels. The grand plan was that we leave from the basement door and I would glide up the path to the minister. It would have worked like a charm, if my aunt hadn't let the door close behind her, and the doorknob had not come off in my father's hand. Kath, unaware of what had transpired, continued blithely on her way, while I am pounding on the door for someone to come and let us out.
By the time it came for us to exchange our vows, I laughed all the way through it, much to my father's consternation. He hadn't come all this way to palm me off on my unsuspecting groom, to see it come off the rails at the last minute. Fortunately after quaffing the G&T's I don't think Rob even noticed. Come to think of it, I don't think he's ever touched gin again, I can't say he doesn't learn from his mistakes !
So, Happy Anniversary to my wonderful husband. Tune in tomorrow, and you'll see just how wonderful !
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