The Eve of the Wedding of the Year

Yes, we’re off to Biggar tomorrow to witness the marriage of our Douglas and the lovely Jean and to sing for them, too. I am sure you will join me in wishing them a beautiful day, a glorious wedding and many, many years of happily married life.

Lifts to the church were organised on Wednesday evening in a vague sort of a way, with Anne informing us that we didn't have to go home with the same person we arrived with. Hmmm. She also asked who would like to ‘go out’ with both Sebastian and Robin, then suggesting that Jenny might. She might well, but she’s on a hiding to nothing with one of them at least. Also, small matter but she is a married woman so best leave well alone, I’d say. Anne is married too but intimated that she’d be quite happy to swap her Dick for the return journey. All a bit frisky for my liking – I am getting quite concerned for the moral welfare of my fellow choir members. I do hope there is a weighty sermon about the sanctity of marriage tomorrow. I feel it is badly needed to keep people in line. I blame television.

So, much better turn out this week which was good to see. Bet Douglas was relieved. Having to rely on a group of morally questionable warblers to enhance your wedding service is quite bad enough without having them under-rehearsed as well. Things were sounding rather lovely, however, and we even had a chance to go through the impossible Son ar Chistr; a traditional Breton number though, if Ollie takes it as fast as he did on Wednesday, after we’ve all had a drink or two I think it won’t matter a damn what language it’s in as it won’t be anything but slurs and hiccups. Sari, who used to be in the choir, came along to play the bodhran (accents, accents, spelling, spelling) for us during this and our Gaelic set which sounded great and, what with a bit of clapping along, it will all be very jolly. There are a few other things which we plan to sing at the reception which we haven’t yet had a practice of but I think we know them well enough and by then, I daresay, people will be pissed relaxing and determined to enjoy themselves so I imagine they won’t care too much if there’s a certain raggedy charm to the performance.

Helen has promised me that she will wear a frilly dress to the reception and I will report on this next blog. My hopes are not raised too high however and I am prepared to be disappointed. If you knew Helen like I know Helen you’d know that a dress is pushing it - and as for frills... ah, well! Some things were just never meant to be. If she keeps her promise photos are a must and will be attached for your amuseme- ahem, delectation.

All of which reminds me – what am I going to wear??????