Thursday 19th September 2013

Today is our 5th wedding anniversary. Not only that, it is my first ever 5th anniversary. This comes at the third attempt and this time it really seems to have worked out. It has been pointed out that the common denominator in the two previous unions was me. Or it could be that maybe I just like wedding cake?

And now for your enjoyment, here are two different accounts of the big day. You could read mine in the blog archives. So, here we go:

"We woke at dawn to find the chaos from the barbeque all around. Seagulls had feasted long on discarded flavour of ribs and the suchlike. Quite where to start. So, bin bags were filled, washing up done and all other tasks that needed to be done.

There was just time for a shower; Julie went in as a calm woman, the same I had known for the past two years, but came out ‘with a panic head on.’ One of the jobs that needed to be done was going to the tailor to change the top hat. Somehow the wrong size one had been put in the box, and the hat sat on top of my head in a very humorous way, but not at all becoming. Julie also had to go and have her nails done; a first for her, and she had been growing them for weeks, making typing ever more difficult. Dropping her off in the centre of town, I headed to the main car park nearest the tailor.

Hughes is an old fashioned shop; full of suits, but served with manners from days gone by. The door would be opened, and all the other such things that are vanishing from the modern world. With minimum fuss a replacement hat was found, this one a perfect fit, and I was on my way back home.

I got a call from the planner asking about ice, and a mild form of panic formed in my head; and upon Julie’s return we checked with Jen and realised there was going to be no ice to keep the drinks cold. So, against all our plans we found ourselves having to go to Tesco’s on a Saturday morning, mixing it with families and the confused to get bags of ice. We filled the trolley with bags, checking that we could use the express checkout and have 10 items or less.

The cashier looked at us strange after looking at our purchases, ‘do you have some kind of ice fetish,’ she asked. ‘Wedding; drink; no ice; panic!’ I replied. She seemed happy at this. She had been passing the time of day with an old friend as we waited to pay, and as the minutes dragged by I could see the minute hand on a clock in my hand sweep round like the blade of a fan. We then had to get to the other side of town, mixing it with traffic heading to the port as the tunnel was still closed. Thankfully, we did not get held up, and we arrived at the barn as the planner did and at least it was open.

As we stood there, the florist arrived, dropping off the table arrangements before heading to Julie’s Dads to deposit the bouquet and buttonholes. The caterer was there, already preparing our wedding breakfast, and seeing everything come together was reassuring, but also creating an even greater sense of panic as we realised it was now less than three hours to the beginning of the ceremony, and we had to get home, then Julie to her Dad’s, my best man arrive, get ready.

Aaaaarrrgggghhhhh.

Thankfully there is a back way into Dover and right to our street, and so we were back home and only mildly worried within a few minutes. Julie had all her stuff in a bag, and so grabbed that and headed up to her dad’s, leaving me to shower and get ready, and wait for Mike, Julie’s brother and my best man, to arrive.

Unbeknown to me; Mike had decided to walk up from his house, and therefore be fashionably late and causing the panic level to rise still further. Causing me more worry was the discovery that there were no cufflinks in with the suits and shirts. My fault for not checking, for sure, but this meant I had to call Tony, Julie’s father to see if he had any; no dice. The only thing to do was to call Hughes and ask them; apparently the cufflinks were in the inside pocket of the jacket; I failed to see that there were two inside pockets and so checked just the one.

Another panic over, Mike arrived and it really started to come together. Thankfully the suits fitted, and somehow I had managed not to cut myself shaving, and it was time to head out to the pub down the road for some Dutch courage and to wait for the limo to take me to the barn. Whilst walking down I received a call from the limo driver, he was coming into town from a different direction and the directions to the pub did not work. I say I received a call, I had a voice mail asking me to ring him back and guide him to the Five Cups.

I did not have his mobile number; the only thing to do was to call Julie, and she call him back as she had the number. I really did not want to worry her right at that moment, but I had no other choice.

So, with that sorted there was just time to have a pint of Australia’s finest amber nectar before the Mercedes pulled up outside.

Our arrival at the barn was seen by no one, and walking into the barn itself we met just the photographer who was checking light levels and other such things. He set up a few shots of Mike and I outside, and it was during this that the registrar arrived; as did the first guests.

I have to admit that seeing that there was no one at all in the barn was a shock, but with 30 minutes to go before kick off I thought it a little early to worry too much. I had a short chat with the registrar, just confirming details I had given before, and then I was all ready to be wed.

More and more people started to arrive; I went round and thanked them for coming; then as two o’clock approached Julie arrived and I waited, back turned, for her appearance in the barn.

To be honest I was nervous, more than I thought I was going to be. The ceremony went by quite quickly; I slipped up on one part forgetting what I was supposed to say. It was a civil ceremony, nothing religious, no readings to be done, but instead there were passages about love and commitment; it was all rather wonderful, and I will try to post about that when I get home(I am writing this in Tuscany right now, more about that another time).

And after many nice words it was time to put the ring on her finger and for me to kiss Julie; and we were declared husband and wife. Everyone applauded, and we walked up the aisle outside to the marquee were we could meet each of our friends and welcome them as a married couple.

Second through was Julie’s father, but he could not stop and speak as he was choking back the tears. I gave him a look and went over and hugged him; he sobbed some more and patted me on the back.

Then it was time for the photos; with my Mother and Julie’s Nan sitting on chairs we arranged ourselves in ever bigger groups, as Colin snapped away. We then moved down to the Georgian townhouse that also stands there to take up places on the steps leading to the main door for some more pictures. The late afternoon sun beat down on us; the birds sang in the trees and all was right with the world.

We went back into the marquee where elderflower pressé was being served in champagne flutes. Seeing so many friends around was a real joy, and Jools and I circulated talking to as many friends as we could.

Then it was time to eat; we were seated at four round tables; Julie and I next to each other with each family next to us. This meant I was next to Mother dearest, but this was ok. We had steak, salmon, buttered potatoes, with salads of various kinds; followed by a choice of three desserts. The hobbits amongst the guest had two or even all three.

Then there were the speeches; Mike did not really know me, so there were not the usual embarrassing stories about the groom. I spoke only really to thank both Julie’s Father and my Mother for helping towards the cost, and to thank everyone for coming and making it such a joyful occasion.

Then the free bar opened.

We both mingled more; we watched the sun go down and the trees change colour. The DJ arrived and I said to play the usual cheese that gets played at weddings as I don’t think anyone would have liked Blister in The Sun, Wave of Mutilation or Train in Vain instead of Lambada, The Birdie Song or Agadoo.

The evening guests arrived from seven, and some of the older people began to leave. From that point on events get a little sketchy. One thing I do remember is that on of my friends of the matchdoctor site was there, and I forgot all about her until Julie mentioned her. How terrible I felt, all I could do was to blame the day and my mind being all messed up. But once I went over to say ‘hello’ to her, it was so good to meet someone for the first time that I felt had been friends for many years.

I think it would be fair to say I had had enough, but there were those who had much, much more. Glasses were dropped; people did fall around on the ground and I am sure people felt very silly in the morning.

It was left to Julie and I to get people into taxis and order plenty more, before it was time for us to climb into one of our own to get us back to the flat, and crash out for just three hours before it was time to get up, this time to get to the airport for the flight to Italy." And now one from a friend of mine from an old blogsite I used to use, Matchdoctor.com.

"It occurred to me very soon after I received the invitation that it was a very unusual thing I would be doing on the 19th September 2008. I’d not heard of anyone attending the wedding of a couple they’d never met before, not unless they were accompanying someone else who did! I was a friend of Ian‘s, but we’d only ever corresponded via the internet. He worked away on board ship for months at a time and spent time writing on a dating/friendship site to pass some hours away. I had been on the site for more than a year hoping to meet the man of my dreams, and made a number of friends along the way. I’d talked to both bride and groom on the telephone but we didn’t get to meet before the wedding.

The weather had decided to be especially kind for the time of year, starting rumours of an Indian Summer. I was unusually well prepared and, for some reason, the time was moving nice and slowly that morning. I knew exactly what I was going to wear, a dress worn once only on Millennium night. I had been living with my Mother at the time, she‘d washed it and it had hung in my Father’s wardrobe ever since. I found an equally old and rarely worn lace blouse to compliment the dress and bought a cheap pair of shoes and handbag to complete the outfit. My friend Lyn arrived on time, which meant I couldn’t straighten my hair, which is straight anyway, but can get a bit frizzy after it’s been washed. Lyn made a fuss of my two kittens, told me how stunning I looked, and I marvelled at the fact what she was wearing perfectly matched my attire. I often find that happens with my friends, it’s the psychic version of calling each other and asking “what are you wearing?”. I wonder if young girls still do that!

It was wonderful not having to drive for a change. Lyn thinks her car is a heap but it’s luxury compared to mine, especially with it’s comfortable leather seats and her driving it! She had a satellite navigation system so I didn’t have to follow a map or directions either, not exactly my forte. We gave ourselves more than enough time to get there and arrived at The Plough pub, close to the wedding venue, with more than an hour to spare. We had no idea what time we’d be eating so we ordered a snack and a coffee and Lyn continued to tell me her life story. We’ve known each other a while but meditation group isn’t really conducive to conversation, so it was great to finally get to know her. I told her she should write a book, although no one would believe it.

Ironically, the only point we got even slightly lost was when we were actually on top of the venue. The name of the venue wasn‘t indicated, but we thought the word WEDDINGS in bold letters on the large silver sign was a bit of a giveaway and decided we must be on the right track. As we pulled into the car park we asked one of the guests hanging around if this was Great Farthingloe Farm. He informed us he didn’t know because he wasn’t from around there. I decided to make the question a little easier for him and asked whose wedding he was there for and he pointed to a lady in a pretty white dress and said “that lady there, Julie”. With a sigh of relief and a laugh Lyn parked the car as I commented on how typical it was for a man not to know where the hell he was.

We arrived on time inside the converted barn where the ceremony was about to take place. I spotted Ian standing at the front, not because I recognised him, he had his back to me, but because my excellent powers of deduction was telling me he must be the groom because of where he was standing. He turned around and as he caught my eye we exchanged a smile and a “hello”, which was enough to convince me he’d recognised me.

It was a lovely ceremony, the atmosphere was laid back and friendly. There couldn’t have been more than thirty guests, which made it intimate and even more of an honour to be there. The music struck up and Julie made her entrance on her Father’s arm, smiling and radiant as a Bride should be. I saw Ian glance over his shoulder at one point and smile. The female celebrant conducted the ceremony with sincerity and emotion. The vows sounded pretty traditional to me, they always bring a tear to my eye, even though I swear to God I hate weddings! After the kissing of the bride and the signing of the register we followed the new Mr and Mrs H into the marquee especially set up for drinks on the lawn. I introduced myself to Julie and said it was lovely to meet her. I’m pretty sure she turned to Ian and said “This is Debs” and he made some kind of a joke and I responded appropriately. I felt very much like an old friend, rather than one they’d never met. As I walked away I got my shoe caught in the Hessian flooring and I was waiting for someone to say “Enjoy your trip?”. As I bent over to rescue my toes which were now wedged in a strange fashion in the front of my shoe, memories of the last wedding I’d attended came flooding back. I’d fallen down a foot deep hole in the grass as I walked away from having my photograph taken and fell flat on my face. It was the highlight of most peoples’ day and I’m pretty sure I might have ended up on You’ve Been Framed.

Lyn and I enjoyed the elderflower cup which was very refreshing once diluted. Poor Julie had almost choked on a neat glass earlier and wasn’t recommending it. In fact, my friend and I had two glasses and soon needed the Ladies. Whoever decorated the Toilets must have been giants because, at 5’ 4”, I couldn’t see in the mirrors to replenish my lipstick. Giggling about this, we made our way back outside and stood in the sunshine for a while so Lyn could have a cigarette. I was beginning to feel hungry by this time as the caterers were preparing steak and salmon on the barbecue and the aroma emanating across was delicious. Before too long we were being lead by our rumbling stomachs to our tables. Lyn and I had been put on “The Friends Table”, traditionally known as “The Noisy Table” at most weddings I’ve been to. Soothing, classical music played in the background during dinner and our table was probably quieter than the rest to begin with. Possibly because we were hungry by this time and the food looked so good. Before too very long, my friend Lyn was asking everyone about themselves and, as the wine flowed, we all began to loosen up a bit. When it came to my turn to explain how I knew the bride and groom I simply said I’d not met either of them before that day as I was one of Ian’s internet friends. If I’d dropped a pin you would have heard it in Dover Town Centre! I decided not to elaborate in case I dug myself into a deeper hole rather than out of one.

Well we all made more than a meal of the delicious salmon and steak with all the salad trimmings including yummy home made coleslaw, pasta salad and those lovely little new potatoes with the skins on. I ate so much I had no room for the roll on my side plate, in fact I was in such a hurry to tuck in I’m ashamed to say I didn’t even take the time to put my serviette across my lap. I don’t know why weddings make people so hungry, it’s a strange phenomena! I wouldn’t mind betting we were all full, but no one was going to turn down the offer of dessert. The staff had come around earlier saying there was plenty more steak and salmon if we wanted seconds and we were thinking maybe it would be the same with the desserts. Profiteroles, banoffee pie and raspberry roulade were all on the menu. It became a competition for who’d chosen the best dessert between Lynn and Dougie, a really old friend of Ian’s. By “really old” I mean since they were kids. Dougie insisted he was only 27. Lyn hadn’t realised there was a choice of dessert and had happily accepted the profiteroles. She remarked that if she’d known roulade was on offer she would have chosen that. Dougie proceeded to wind her up, making noises over his roulade, looking at Lyn and saying it was the “best roulade he’d ever tasted”. Lyn rose to the bait, in fun of course, and told him not to be mean, which only made him taunt her more! When he’d finished, Dougie hid his dish and called a waitress over saying he’d not had any dessert. As she walked away saying she’d get him one he called out that Lyn hadn’t had one either, so I quickly hid her dish inside the guy’s next to her. At this point, I was still under the impression there might be plenty of desserts to go around. Lyn was a little embarrassed but she was really looking forward to sampling the roulade. When the desserts came up the waitress put the last remaining roulade in front of Dougie and the last remaining profiteroles in front of Lyn, much to everyone’s amusement. Lyn pretended to be upset and Dougie did the gentlemanly thing and swapped desserts with her. She said he would be known as “Two Puddings Dougie” from then on. Unfortunately for the two tricksters, the Catering Manager came over to the table to apologise. Not wanting to get the staff into trouble, they had to come clean. It was all taken in good part, but it did remind me a lot of school dinners for some reason. I’ve not had as much fun at mealtime in a long time!

Whilst we sat back and nursed our aching tummies, Julie and Ian made the rounds chatting to everyone. However, it wasn’t until an hour or so before Lyn and I were due to leave that Ian approached me looking flustered. It seemed he’d not realised who I was after all. When Julie had introduced me earlier he’d assumed I was one of her cousins or something, he’d hardly met any of her family before. It wasn’t until Julie asked him “Have you spoken to Debs yet?“ he realised who I was. I sometimes wonder what you guys would do without us girls. Although I thought it was absolutely hilarious and completely understandable under the circumstances, he couldn’t apologise enough. I was also relieved when Ian explained how he knew me to his friends at the table and in the presence of his new wife. I had been a little worried that imaginations were running riot and they imagined I hadn’t been invited at all and I was a mad, internet stalker obsessed with the groom!

I always knew Ian was a lovely, genuine guy and he really proved it that day. I loved seeing him and Julie together, it really restores my faith in love, marriage and togetherness. Ian said later he thought it was important to invite a friend from the internet because, firstly, he’d met Julie that way through a pen-pal site and secondly too many people thought we weren't real people because we were on line. I know exactly what he meant and it was really nice to finally meet in person and also to realise we get along just as well in person as we do on line. I felt completely at ease with the pair of them. I don’t know Julie, of course, but in a way I felt I knew her from Ian’s blogs. I know he never meant it this way, but they always spoke to me of so much domestic bliss, I yearned for similar.

I really had the most wonderful day. It was a wedding which altered all my preconceived ideas and cynicism about them. We didn’t stay long enough to find out if Julie threw her bouquet over her shoulder in the traditional fashion, but I mentally caught it anyway!" Many thanks for debs in writing this, the original can be found here: http://www.matchdoctor.com/blog_95445/Mr_Mrs_Jelltex.html