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What’s this? Another day off? No way. In fact I might get the whole weekend this time.
We drove to Cheddar to celebrate the wedding of my nephew Mike and his wife Emma. I first met him when he was two hours old, when he held my finger in his little hand, so it’s hard to comprehend that he is now a grown man of 30. I genuinely think there’s been some administrative error with my life where someone had mislaid about twenty years of it and I want them back.
The Gods seemed both delighted and furious about the union. Our drive down the M4 was in glorious sunshine, punctuated by some of the heaviest rain I have ever seen, followed almost immediately by sunshine. The Gods really need to send out a clearer message about whether something is right or wrong, without all this ambiguity. As if life is more complex than a battle between good and evil.
The wedding celebration was rather lovely though and largely in sunshine (though the Gods mixed things up a bit by sending a brief thunderstorm during the speeches - what can it all mean?) The union is between Somerset and Sweden and the buffet reflected this with both Cheddar cheese and reindeer on the menu and the speeches were given a Scandinavian feel when one of Emma’s friends sang a song about the happy couple and another two of them played a Mr and Mrs style game where Emma and Mike took off their shoes and had to hold one of each pair and then raise them above their heads to say which of them did the cooking or was the bossy one or took the initiative during sex. That particular question was interrupted by the rain getting heavier and the guests having to squeeze into the tent so when it was answered my mum had to ask, “Was that for the sex question?” with a bit too much interest in the bedroom antics of her eldest grandson.
There were tears of joy and sadness, as this year as the family has suffered loss this year, but I am very proud to be part of this crazy bunch of idiots. This is life isn’t it? We have much to look forward to with hope and mutual strength. The younger generation are now in their prime and I am very much now part of the older strata of the family, which feels weird, but not entirely unpleasant. Things must move on, even if we don’t notice that that is happening until too late. I watched them all get drunk, still not in the mood to break my three month abstinence. Shamefully in spite of my sobriety I was pretty much the first one to drop, having to bow out to go to bed at about 10.30. Even my 70-something mum and dad partied heartier than me. Though only yesterday they had celebrated 55 years of marriage. Will the new couple fair as well? If I am going to do the same I am not only going to have to not piss off my wife (which I am doing surprisingly OK at so far) but will have to live to 99. But I feel I have to do that anyway, to make up for those 20 lost years. Wish me luck.
