Wedding photographers are a funny mob seemingly impervious to the sufferings of mere mortals as they snap the ultimate photo of the happy couple and the assembled masses in as many poses and combinations of people as they can think off. Then they do it again with a different background. The digital age must have exacerbated the process as well. Still after what seemed like many hours of gasping for the grog the assembled masses were ushered to the pre-drinks drinks. I never appreciated how many and varied horsey people are. From thems that ride ‘em to thems that train ‘em. Also there those that feed them, buy them, sell them, and bet on them sometimes winning more often, not winning. Then there’s the technical side of people looking after the sick ones, and the healthy ones and impregnate the ones that need it. I should mention that both Ruth and Michael are horse vets which explains the preponderance of horsey people at the reception. My contribution is that my Mum and Great Uncle Ern once put a shilling each way on the Grand National and lost.
So it was a great relief when a blue gauzy, angel of mercy came in to view with the Aunt in tow. A welcome relief as I was beginning to feel rather lost in the herd. The Aunt turned out to be a diamond as she regaled me with stories of her life in Australia and I think she is the only person I have met that has not only been to St Helena but has been kicked out of that little South Atlantic outpost. She also gave me an insight into the Maynard School where Hol and Ruth went to school and it seem that the main subject was global domination 101. I wonder if it is still the main aim of the school.
The next phase was the meal. The entrée was nice the Barramundi was caught on Barratuesday, frozen on Barrawednesday, thawed on Barrafriday and cooked by a Barraboy from Stepney on the Saturday. My favourite way to eat fish. And so the evening progressed to the strident sounds of late age disco I think that’s what it was and finally at midnight we all turned into pumpkins and went home. Looking forward to the Limestone Coast.
I had trouble with the bird of the day as I had a choice between Adelaide Rosella , may be a sub-species, and Rose Robin. I took a punt and went for the parrot.