Rather brilliantly, we were invited to a wedding last weekend – and, even more brilliantly, it was at Portsmouth Cathedral.
Somehow I imagine that not all weddings there are like this one. It was more of a choral concert with – as the main man himself described it – a wedding slipped in between.
This was a beautiful, glittering affair with numerous big hats and gorgeous gowns – including, of course, the bride’s.
What I particularly liked, and why I chose to share this with you, was the rather ingenious break from timing traditions.
We sang, we amen-ed, we be-with-you-too-ed, cheered and clapped and then followed the serene couple to the nave, where we had Champagne and cake and wedding speeches.
Effectively it was over in the blink of an eye. Not that my eyes blinked, as I was too busy enjoying the musical spectacle offered by the young acapella group.
There was no hanging around in the middle for pictures, or wandering around aimlessly for a bit while stuff happened elsewhere. It was all there and shared. Superb.
And while it was happening my husband kept up a running commentary about all the bits of the cathedral he’d jumped in, on and around while on his parkour course there. A multi-functional house of worship indeed.
The couple who married have been together for quite some time. Nineteen years I think. That’s a tremendous courtship and not rushing into things too quickly.
It does very much change the nature of a wedding though. When I was young it was all about hope in a marriage, but when a couple who know each other intimately over time get married it feels like a different, deeper celebration and commitment.
You have to ask yourself, do you still take this person with all the annoying habits and stuff you know will never change and accept them as they are until death do you part?
Choosing that is wonderful, but does decrease the likelihood of guests bothering to have a sweepstake on how long the marriage will last.
UNELECTABILITY IS BECAUSE OF BACKSTABBING, NOT CORBYN
It took very little time for the knives to come out for Jeremy Corbyn.
I don’t think anyone was surprised that he won the leadership contest, but already his own party are turning on him when he is the politician in a position with the biggest mandate of voters.
The Labour party hasn’t learnt from its own very recent mistake, allowing bickering and in-fighting to dominate while the country flops around Brexit and what it might mean one day, sometime in the future.
Obviously everyone has a right to their own opinion, and to discuss that, but the essence of the label of unelectability feels to me as if it comes from the stickiness of backstabbing and treachery, and not the man who is being stabbed.
HOW DO ABYSMAL SHOWS LIKE EVER GET THE GREEN LIGHT?
I sometimes wonder how TV shows get made – and by this I mean how do they get the green light to go into production?
Take, for example, Sky’s Hooten and the Lady, which follows an American adventurer and his partner in crime as they travel the world.
This is the biggest load of hole-riddled twaddle I have seen in decades. It’s truly abysmal, made worse by a supposedly strong female lead being told to hit Hooten by her mother.
Let’s just flip those genders there and see how we feel.
I hate shows that give the main character a couple of sharp lines and expect us to say ‘golly, how marvellous’, while the rest of the women are left nodding sagely, or worriedly, without any lines. Avoid at all costs.