We are getting married. Wendy and I, not Charlotte Church. In the registry office, not the church, sorry Charlotte.
Right, preliminary confusion sorted out we can proceed. Wendy and I are to be wed. A week on Thursday (the fifth of March). Thirteen years, seven months, and three weeks after we started seeing each other again (we went out for a year on a separate occasion prior to that). Personally I think we should heed the adage "Marry in haste, repent at leisure", but little miss impetuous will insist. I’ll just have to keep my wits about me if she starts saying that I should take out life insurance.
We had ruminated over doing the deed and then telling everyone. That way we could have the quiet, no fuss, just making it legal, sort of affair we were after. However, we thought the family might be miffed. So we’ve announced it. Spectacular non-event. I sent an email to my mob, they couldn’t even get up the enthusiasm to acknowledge receipt, never mind say if they were coming or not. Admittedly, it is going to be deathly dull. We don’t drink, do other drugs, or anything else that makes not being dead seem worthwhile. So it’s a quick service, then home again for a nice cup of tea. However, as this is my only time I’m to wed, you’d have thought someone would have at least said ‘congratulations’.
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