The Dramatic Weekend.

There has been a hiatus in the blogging while we moved house. That situation is a whole other story but I hope that, for now, we will not be moving again for at least 2 years. I would like my son’s number of homes to never out number his age ever again.
For now, however, I would like to share the story of my weekend just gone. We were out of London for a wedding. It was the wedding of my husband’s cousin and his girlfriend of nine years. They are a lovely couple and very funny people to be around. We always have a good night out with them, not least because of the bride’s penchant for shots. It was going to be a good wedding.

On the wedding day, we had to drop our cat off at the cattery before getting ready. One of our cats has been on a prolonged holiday with my Mother-in-Law while we lived in the flat from hell. Quite rightly my Mother-in-Law doesn’t feel she can leave the cat alone in the house overnight. He is a menace.

So off we drive to this cattery, in the middle of the countryside. My MiL only knew one way there which included driving through a ford. For people like me, who have no idea what a ford is other than Bradford was originally built upon a ‘Broad Ford’, you can imagine my face when we approached a river running over the road, complete with a family of ducks sailing past. In the words of a well-known children’s book; we couldn’t go under it, we couldn’t go over it, we had to go through it.

Which we did. Until we reached the middle when the car began to float. The ford had swollen during the previous nights’ rain and unbeknown to us, this ford had actually become a river. My MiL exclaimed from the back seat that her feet were getting wet but not to panic. My husband then managed to crash the car into the river bank, to push it out to the side and back where the wheels could reach the road. I was having nightmares of having to wade out of the car mid-river, holding a toddler above my head.

Somehow the car worked and as my MiL had a broken foot anyway, I had to wade out the full foot well with a take away box. It was only the start of the drama to the day.

Upon return we were told that the bride and groom’s eldest child had been taken to hospital with suspected appendicitis. Thankfully, he was okay and released 3 hours later but the wedding had been postponed for three hours. A very accommodating church and hotel indeed. During the very long Catholic service, pretty much everyone in the congregation needed the toilet, especially every young child, old person and my peanut-sized bladder self. This was a result of a cold church, long wait and pint in the pub beforehand. When in doubt my in-laws decamp to the pub. But lo! the toilets were locked and various children had to go to the toilet in a potty in the church car park.

So much wonderful thought had been put into the day and into the meal. I am always grateful when my vegan diet is catered for at a wedding. I don’t expect it but am over the moon when a lovely plate of roasted tofu appears in front of me. Apparently I have been eating a little too much tofu as my husband’s Uncle appeared, tapped my belly and asked: “How’s the bump?”

“The bump is over there, 18 months old and happily playing. I am just a bit on the chunky side but thanks for asking.”

It is a good job I have a thick skin and a decent amount of self-awareness.

This next part is third-hand news as I was at this point, looking after a sleeping toddler and a couple of bottles of wine in the hotel room.

During the evening reception, one of the many cousins decided to take umbridge at our side of the family, announcing that we all thought we were better than the rest of the family and my MiL and her daughter had ‘better watch their backs’. They then later attacked my brother-in-law at the cash point, a fight broke out and most got dragged out of the hotel. At a wedding. The people who started this fight no longer talk to me because they think I am too stuck up and it explains why their new Step-Dad spent the entire evening on my case about my ‘posh’ Yorkshire accent. There is nothing ‘posh’ about my accent, especially not after a few wines. He was just trying to get a rise at someone else’s wedding because I do not mince my morals or try dumb down.

The sad thing is that so much had been put into this day, for so long. This couple deserved better from their extended families. They deserved having family differences put to one side for one day for them. It has been a long journey for them to get to this place in their lives. Regardless, they are having another wedding party later in the year to make up for it.



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