Wedding Weekend

It seemed as if England basked in sunshine and happiness.  I got down to Dorset on Friday evening to find the Parsonage glowing. Suddenly summer is upon us. 

The following photo is for fans of Sibyl poses. 

You see what I mean?

The garden has turned from spring tulips to summer borders in a blink…

The last of the Queen of the Night…

On Saturday morning I was up early with the dogs, for once. Charlie had bounced out of bed at 5.30 to start baking and generally getting into the atmosphere.  A beautiful sunrise. 

It’s quite funny walking through long grass with Sibyl these days. 

Mavis as always ahead, and always waiting patiently. 

But to the main event. Put out more flags…

We had an early dash in and out of Bridport, and then back to make cucumber sandwiches, Victoria sponge and get the champagne glasses out.  WHY WAS THE WEDDING SO EARLY?

Our friends Will and Brandon arrived, just in time, with Brandon’s mum Linda over from Texas; Mum and Dad, and our neighbour Nic. Never has there been so much anticipation in the room. Big screen to the ready. 

The moment. 

Lunch on the terrace.  And then it was too much for some.

Post lunch, hot sun.
Then, after farewells, round to Nicky’s. 

This weekend was the peak cow parsley moment in the lanes of Dorset. I went for a brief wander to take a snap…

And returned to find that we had drunk enough, and Nicky was happy enough, to get changed into her wedding dress of 29 years earlier, and who can always fit in to that like a glove still, I wondered?

Charlie meanwhile had turned into a punk rocker from 1985 as well.  The Maltby’s beef herd was in fields, as regular as clockwork.

So Nicky and I had our very own fashion shoot, as drunk and happy as you can imagine. 

The cows looked on, mystified. 

The night carried on; the moon rose, Venus shone bright. What a fabulous, happy day.  I can’t say we felt too amazing the following morning. 

Lunch at Bettiscombe was (needless to say) perfect. But we tore ourselves away and back up to London for a farewell supper with Jo and her mum Jenny, friends who have travelled all the way over from NZ to stand and wave wildly at Windsor. They are off on their way home as I write, their crazy dream week over all too fast.  Is there anything more uniting, happy, mad and silly as Royal Wedding? And did anyone pull it off more beautifully than The Duke and Duchess of Sussex? No is the answer to both questions.

Now, back to reality, but can we enjoy make-believe for a moment?


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