So, after the ceremony, we walked up to the house where the reception was being held in the garden.
Once again, we felt privileged to have been invited to this very special occasion. Such a lot of hard work by family and friends made it a truly “grand do”. The sky was blue and the sun shone and the garden looked as only an English garden can, green and lush. The rain had tried its hardest earlier on in the week(s) to thwart plans. BUT, in the end, the event was a triumph. The bride looked radiant and gorgeous and the groom handsome. The wedding dress was perfect – the flowers had been thoughtfully chosen although Mr Dancing kept “forgetting” the name of the vintage-look roses the bridesmaids were carrying. What was the name of the rose, again? Ah “Amnesia”.
The bridesmaids looked absolutely lovely in their mocha dresses. There were men in kilts and a lady in an electric blue sari. A quintet was playing outside, the conjurer amused and amazed us with impossible looking tricks involving cards, squishy red balls and ten pound notes. The speeches were emotional. The best man had hoped initially when told about the wedding that there might be an eligible single bridesmaid but discovered that they were all related to him!
The food was delicious and the beef and home-baked pork pie were complemented by delicious homemade chutneys thanks to Nanny Dot and Charles. The desserts were scrummy – Eton Mess, Lemon Tart and Summer Pudding – sigh – some people even had a little of each one!
A wonderful day to remember.
