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 FeastThe 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 gazesat her moist pink lips, imagines his fingerstouching cream skin glimpsed through lattice lace.The groom aches with a hungerthat 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 gorgeson pies, puddings, wine and lager...such a shame to let it go to waste.Great Aunt Amelia seethes as she sitsat 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.