9 July 2012

My daughter got married at the weekend. I had to stand up on my hind legs and give a speech. Well, I didn’t have to, as she reminded me several times. But I did it anyway. I couldn’t not say something. It’s not the kind of thing that happens often.

It was a remarkable day. Never one to do things the same way as the rest of the herd, she got married in bare feet to my brand-new son-on-law in a giant teepee, with the only formal bit of the do conducted by a specially imported Icelandic priest who’s also her cousin.
So it was quite a magnificent day, and it all went on into the early hours as the bluegrass band fired themselves up and the oldies (like me) started to trickle home.

It was deeply touching to see just how many people turned out to see them set off into wedded bliss and a joy to see just what a disparate and delightful bunch of friends they have to wave them off and cheer them on – one of whom pulled out a copy of Frozen Out and asked me to sign it. Hope you enjoy it, Jen.


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