What have we here ?

pink wellies . . .
hold on a minute, isn't that a wedding dress . . .

Location of the wedding breakfast . . .

 

Andreas mum has been at work here I reckon

this sign is definitely her handiwork . .

 

or I'm a Dutchmans uncle,

 

(I'd better get myself a Dutch Dictionary just in case).

Within an absolutely massive marquee,
a local florist has been at work,
constructing a small decorative jungle on the tables.

 

Meanwhile, at the farmhouse,
bridesmaids ready themselves for the day ahead. . .

A wedding dress hoves into view,
and is snapped for posterity by my camera.

The wedding dress above,
now occupied by Andrea,
enjoys mirth and merriment with three smiling bridesmaids.

The farm cat is spotted
and given a purple bow
to wear on his neck,

hey presto . . . another wedding guest.

sorry . . . to avoid confusion.

I should have said that the cat was seen, not spotted,
as it is patently obvious
that the creature hasn't a spot on it's body.

The clock ticks onwards,
time flies as the saying goes

anyhow, we zoom off to the church,
a neat little mediaeval affair a few miles away,

along scarily narrow country lanes,

locals drive very fast along such roads,
relying on fast reactions and soft hedges
in order to minimise collision damage.

I just put my foot down
and simply hope that theres' no one coming the other way.

The guys are all here,

the girls would have their guts for garters
if they weren't !

Martin is to the left and his best man is berthed alongside.

sorry . . I forgot,
both Martin and Andrea are solicitors,

so the correct term would probably be

Martin is filed together with his best man . . .

Weddings are a great excuse to get the cameras out

I've noticed that modern cameras force guests
into lots of interesting poses.

 

Aha, here we have the hero of the day
( heroine if you're pedantic)

Sophia, organiser of many wonderful things.

seriously . . this lady is one to be admired,

there was a need for a level space on the farm to put the marquee etc

so she simply bulldozed one with a tractor.

 

girl power !

the Vicar (a family friend) is visibly shocked by something

 

I say 'something'

 

simply because I haven't the foggiest idea what he was looking at

so you'll just have to make it up for yourself.

 

. . . . you could have fun putting words into his mouth at this point . .

 

'good god madam, is that a hat or an albatross' ?

 

(with apologies to the lady wearing the albatross)l

Andrea arrives fashionably late,

in a car obviously driven by someone local.
( maniac driver )

I'd cunningly staked out a position,
so that I could photograph the car arriving,

I simply heard the roar of an engine,

a scream of brakes, and this vintage number
actually skidded all the way to the church gates.

I kid you not, there was a cloud of dust !

anyhow - it was too quick for me,

scary driving . . . .

Safely tipped out of the car at the gates,
Andrea and her father
make their approach to the church.

Wedding things now start to happen in quick succession, progression up the aisle, singing, solemn words,

smiles . . general wedding stuff.

you know the sort of thing . . .

If you're a photographer,
sometimes you just have to stand patiently
at the back of the church with a camera,

And sometimes the vicar is an absolute gent

who allows discrete photography
from a much closer range.

 

this guy was . . . sorry . . . is, a gent.

If I got any closer with the camera,
there'd be a serious risk
of inserting the lens
in the vicars nostril or something.

so . . .discretion is the key here,

I'm not using a flash on the camera.

because flash would cause the most astounding look of surprise on the vicars face if the camera were inserted . . .

 

As is customary in these parts,
confetti is hurled at the bride and groom.

 

actually - not customary simply in these parts,
I should have begun with

'as is customary on our planet'

 

but If I said that you'd think I was silly . . ..

A proud father looks on.

definitely proud.

 

Andreas father is to the right.

Weddings are a great excuse for hats,

I'm definitely in favour of this,
as I like to photograph them.

long live the hat.

If it aint' hats it's veils !

 

both serve to make girls look really lovely.

I've included this picture
simply because I suspect this lady
of being a serial wedding attender.

I've seen her at 3 weddings so far this year,

(using a variety of hats as disguises)

at one wedding, she even attended in the guise of the
grooms mum, but I saw through it all.

she's definitely a serial wedding attender.

speaking of hats . . ..

 

now that's a HAT.

 

I'd love to meet one of the people who dream these things up.

during the wettest August that I remember for some considerable time.

 

we are blessed with sunshine.

 

yippee.

Aha . . .

the mean racing vehicle awaits.

 

well . .

it isn't really a racing car,
but the driver doesn't know that.

 

he sportingly tells me that he'll give me a head start when we set off to the farm for the wedding breakfast.

 

I zoom off before I see a chequered flag.

Arriving neatly before everyone else,
I find a piper.

piping.

Stupidly I try to get an unusual shot of the piper who is making the piping noise.

 

I admit to not being a Scot.

 

I also admit to not being one who appreciates the sound of bagpipes.

 

when I take this picture, inches from the darned beastie.

My understanding of the word 'deafening' reaches new levels,

 

I am unable to hear very much except a loud ringing noise
for some time afterwards.

Andrea arrives, poses around the farm buildings for a trice,

then troops off to the marquee where about 200 guests await.

Aha . . but there's the man with the droning haggis thing with sticks poking out of it,

the piper is to pipe her down the road.

what's that flash of pink below the dress ?

methinks there's a little joke here . .

Andrea, being a girl brought up on a farm, has been used to green wellies.

now she's off to live in a town, she needs a pair of 'proper townie wellies'

pink ones with flowers on ought to do it.

she'll blend into any town nicely with those . . . . .

 

Andreas father springs his cunning plan on me.

I'm to be hoisted aloft in his tractor bucket in order to take a picture of all 200 guests from above.

 

my prayers are answered when the tractor breaks down,

 

(one baffled brides father shown here trying to hypnotise the tractor engine into action)

however . . . . .

with 200 guests now surrounding the tractor,
and looking expectantly at us . . .

Something has to be done,
or we'll look silly.

cunning plan no 2 rapidly evolves as I clamber up onto the tractor roof, then discover to my horror that the darned thing is as slippy as a childrens slide.

and I'm wearing leather soled shoes.

I try to explain this to those below who smile at my
attempts to stand upright . .

looking like a drunken ice skater.

this generates some smiles (and cries of 'jump').

some farmers see the camera
and immediately go into farmer poses.

distant thousand yard stares,

arms describing the path of a gas pipeline.

y'see that ewe on the horizon . .

 

 

it was this wide.

 

(what was this wide ?)

 

you'll have to guess.

The sheer scale of the marquee placed on Sophias bulldozed bit of land is evident here when we see this interior view.

 

 

Andrea and Martin carry out the ceremonial cutting of the cake.

I make a final picture before stumbling back to my car,

then have immense fun trying to get it out of a very slippery field in the dark.

joking aside . . .

this wedding gave Kerry and I some fond memories.

Thanks Andrea and Martin for letting us be part of the day,

and for the lovely meal too !