Part 4 - reception 2
It has been nearly a month, I'm stuck right back into work, my name is changed on some things, but people are still talking about the wedding when they see us.
Back to the story...
As the evening guests started to arrive and we has our coffee and homemade tablet, the men did the speeches. Starting with my dad, who can be a bit of a loose cannon when it comes to public speaking, especially I thought, when he was a bit emotional. But it was suitably funny, soppy and full of advice (lists was the key thing). He managed to embarrass me by mentioning my secret shame from when I was 11 (I failed my cycling proficiency test!) while also make me feel like his special little girl.
J's speech was very funny, and I have the scrap of paper he made his notes on in my box of wedding bits. But it was also poignant as he raised a glass to absent friends.
The best men did a double act which worked perfectly with one doing the funny stuff and the other playing the straight man. They even managed to rib me with a joke about a silly comment I made some months back and had forgotten about.
After welcoming the evening guests we stepped onto the dance floor for our first dance. We danced to a cover of Elvis' Can't help falling in love with you by the Eels. Suitably classic but also suitably obscure and us. We asked the best men to dance with the bridesmaids, my parents and my brother to dance with J's mum, and for them to join us after a few bars into the song, which was lovely.
The dancing then proceeded through the evening with music from J's friend as DJ. This was a great idea as he knew what we like so well. We had a great mix of indie classics, motown, 60s and dancefloor fillers. No cheese was the rule!
The evening was so much fun, catching up with people, having photos, chatting and never having a dry glass. But it ended and we were taken to our proper black cab to take us to our hotel.
J had booked the hotel and I had the choice whether to know where we were going - but I chose to have a surprise. We went to Clerkenwell to The Rookery hotel, where a chilled bottle of champagne was waiting for us. It is on a pedestrianised street so the taxi had to drop us at the end of the road, and people were looking at us as we walked past in our finery. Someone shouted 'will you marry me?!' 'Too late mate' was J's response.
The next day we caught up with some friends for brunch, opened presents, and had a good read of all the lovely comments in our guest book, which my sister had organised. Sunday was such a chilled happy day, basking in our new found situation.
Back to the story...
As the evening guests started to arrive and we has our coffee and homemade tablet, the men did the speeches. Starting with my dad, who can be a bit of a loose cannon when it comes to public speaking, especially I thought, when he was a bit emotional. But it was suitably funny, soppy and full of advice (lists was the key thing). He managed to embarrass me by mentioning my secret shame from when I was 11 (I failed my cycling proficiency test!) while also make me feel like his special little girl.
J's speech was very funny, and I have the scrap of paper he made his notes on in my box of wedding bits. But it was also poignant as he raised a glass to absent friends.
The best men did a double act which worked perfectly with one doing the funny stuff and the other playing the straight man. They even managed to rib me with a joke about a silly comment I made some months back and had forgotten about.
After welcoming the evening guests we stepped onto the dance floor for our first dance. We danced to a cover of Elvis' Can't help falling in love with you by the Eels. Suitably classic but also suitably obscure and us. We asked the best men to dance with the bridesmaids, my parents and my brother to dance with J's mum, and for them to join us after a few bars into the song, which was lovely.
The dancing then proceeded through the evening with music from J's friend as DJ. This was a great idea as he knew what we like so well. We had a great mix of indie classics, motown, 60s and dancefloor fillers. No cheese was the rule!
The evening was so much fun, catching up with people, having photos, chatting and never having a dry glass. But it ended and we were taken to our proper black cab to take us to our hotel.J had booked the hotel and I had the choice whether to know where we were going - but I chose to have a surprise. We went to Clerkenwell to The Rookery hotel, where a chilled bottle of champagne was waiting for us. It is on a pedestrianised street so the taxi had to drop us at the end of the road, and people were looking at us as we walked past in our finery. Someone shouted 'will you marry me?!' 'Too late mate' was J's response.
The next day we caught up with some friends for brunch, opened presents, and had a good read of all the lovely comments in our guest book, which my sister had organised. Sunday was such a chilled happy day, basking in our new found situation.
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