weddings r us

Thoughts on a long morning of TV watching, with surprisingly little complaining… (You should read each of these thoughts as if it were a well thought out articulate, witty paragraph. Then I’ll be coherent, funny, and I’ll agree with you):

Pomp and circumstance.

Those wee boys suddenly looking like proper grown up royalty in the big uniforms.

Tradition and minibuses.

Indoor trees and stunning mosaic- Westminster Abbey is a remarkable venue.

Ceremony and security-those guys on horses have a challenging job.

Fantastic footage and gushing commentary.

Reporters amazed that the bride had input into the wedding planning. Duh!

Style and gossip- Victoria Beckham in 7 inch heels, queuing, heavily pregnant.

Hats, fascinators and a shock no-hat. Is Samantha Cameron a closet subversive in good shoes?

Harry- bumbling,overblown, someone needs to teach him to stand up straight - but so cute when he’d relaxed with the children.

The much maligned Middleton family dressing and behaving with style and grace.

The bride’s make up being too heavy and dark, but she still radiant and pretty.

Girl1 and Girl2 only being interested in David Beckham, the folk featured on the Blue Peter build up, and Mr Bean.

Good outfits on the woman with Earl Spencer and the fiancée of Prince Albert of Monaco.

Tara and Santa.

Emphasis on how ‘down to earth’ and how ‘just like us’ the couple are. Indeed.

The surprising news that this was not a state event and so the pageantry was limited…

Unallocated seats for the majority of guests- like on a budget airline.

David Beckham.

Is Jerusalem lost to the left now? Or were Kate and William throwing a modicum of social justice into the mix of all that tradition, inherited wealth and privilege?

Diana who?

And then the attire:

Girl1 is a drama queen

Girl2 had a tiara with her dressing gown

Spurs Fan had a handy reminder of hymn lyrics

 

 

Also, Kate’s dress was pretty fabulous.

this morning

You’ll find me at home this morning. There will be no fine hats, no glad rags, no make up. (Also, no ambassadors from countries I don’t like.) Pyjamas, specs and twitter are to be expected. I’ll be occupied with something that both fascinates and irritates me.

I may complain about the people in tents and the gushing commentary and the whole royalist/ monarchy vibe, but I’ll not miss it. From the quasi-military flags in Regent Street, to the fancy picnics in front of huge screens in Hyde Park, I’ll be commenting.  If you’re really unfortunate lucky, I’ll share some of those thoughts with you eventually. It’s highly likely that this grumpy old curmudgeon will really enjoy the spectacle and get a little damp of eye at some point, so you can all laugh at that.

However, I can’t delay now - for goodness’ sake don’t you know I’ve got a wedding to watch?

the mummy lion

Roaring, protective, fearsome… that’s how I was when Girl2′s classmate and friend up the street decided to hide and to make fun, and to exclude my little one from the communal game.

(A rare moment of common sense and a language barrier just about saved me from marching up the street with a crying bundle under my arm and demanding that the little offenders play with her Here And Now. Making things worse. Before bursting into tears myself… Let’s be thankful for small mercies.)

We have been lucky and mostly avoided this sort of nonsense before, so I wasn’t prepared for the rage. The disbelief. The shock that anyone would be bad to mine. That her charm, fun and kindness won’t protect her from life. That there are things that I can’t protect her from. That one of the things we need to learn about life is how to insulate ourselves from the unexpected blows from those we trust.

Has anyone ever been successful at that?

beaches

  Wrapped up warm we headed off to a local-ish beach. We walked and talked and simply sat.

We were exploring, finding seaweed, sand, and every dog in north Down. We brought home pebbles, shells, ice cream drips. We discovered rockpools, tiddly fish, ourselves.

Time by the sea is relaxing and restorative, building reserves for the days ahead.

oh, to be there now

I don’t do it enough.