Grandmother of the Bride and an Irreverent Wedding Poem

Last weekend I took on a new and unfamiliar role - I was Grandmother of the Bride. It was an amazing weekend, even if I did have a few wobblies about driving to Manchester. I'm pleased to say that I did the drive quite competently, as Mr A. assured me I would. It's amazing what one can do when there's a granddaughter about to get married. Oh yes, and there were tears but they were happy, happy tears and I managed not to show myself up with red eyes.

I don't have the official wedding photos yet and I'm not about to bore you with loads of wedding snaps of people you probably don't know but here's a little snapshot of me and he.

Several years ago I wrote a poem about the seven deadly sins at a wedding. It in no way reflects our amazing wedding of last week but I thought it would be fun to share it with you now. Just as a reminder the seven deadly sins are pride, lust, greed, envy, gluttony, wrath and sloth.

Seven Sins of the Wedding Feast 

The bride’s father beams as he surveys the feast:

real champagne, smoked salmon canapés, 

only the finest for his princess.

The best man drools as he gazes

at her moist pink lips, imagines his fingers

touching cream skin glimpsed through lattice lace.

The groom aches with a hunger

that has nothing to do with the food on his plate. 

They’ll go once the speeches are over.

The bridesmaid’s lips are a rose red pout.

She should be wearing white. It’s her turn...

if only someone would ask her.

Jacket buttons strain as Cousin Albert gorges

on pies, puddings, wine and lager...

such a shame to let it go to waste.

Great Aunt Amelia seethes as she sits

at the back with mere neighbours. 

Who is responsible for this seating plan?

The bride languishes. No more work for her.

She’ll have a monthly allowance, a cleaner, a gardener.

She’s got a man to look after her now.

As I said, this has absolutely nothing to do with Granddaughter and her lovely new husband. Our wedding feast of last weekend was a relaxed and enjoyable affair. Mind you, the weekend was exhausting. I'm only just recovering. 

How can it be November already?

Is it me or is time moving in a different way since Covid? I seem to be very busy but I'm not too sure what with. Last week we went away for a short holiday, our first change of scene since before Covid. We visited a fascinating city but more of that later.

Firstly I would like to flag up my latest piece of poetry that has been published both on the Green Ink Poetry website and in their latest anthology on the theme of roots. It is one of my favourite poems and so, for those who know me, you can guess that it's pure nostalgia. I love writing about my roots - my memories of growing up in 1950s Leicester. Here is the link if you'd like to read it: Post-war Kids by Rosalind Adam

I have, at last, got around to updating my About Me page that includes a list of my published work. I'm rather chuffed to have 17 poems in my published list. If you would like to have a look then click here About Me or on the green tab above.

And now for our holiday - we took a train to Ely in Cambridgeshire. Ely was once an island and as the cross-country train approached the area it slowed down and we were surrounded by watery marshland - a tad creepy but fascinating too.  Ely is a small city with a stunningly beautiful cathedral. My photographs never do justice to beauty but here is my take on the cathedral:

and here is the view of the River Ouse from a lovely eatery, The Cutter Inn. I can recommend it whole-heartedly if you're ever in the area.

Me being me I can't produce an entire blog post without a bit of a moan. We decided to go by train partly because I hate distance driving and partly because it's an easy journey, no changes, and lovely views. My complaint is about the cost. To have made this holiday a stress-free experience I would have preferred open tickets so we were not tied to a set time for travelling. But open tickets are so expensive - there has been a significant increase since last time we made the journey - that we opted for timed tickets with all the related stress of getting to the station for a precise time.

So here is my moan - at a time when most world leaders are meeting in Glasgow to try and reduce carbon emissions shouldn't something be done about the exorbitant cost of train travel? Is it prohibitively expensive to travel by train in your part of the UK/in your part of the world? Or is it just our rail network in the East Midlands?