Amen - eh hem!

Hello there,

Sorry it has been awhile since I have blogged but haven’t had much to say as suffering big time from the post travel blues. Still have no permanent job and just very fed up. On the up side, my mother has gone to Australia for two months so Jay and I are free to roam the house naked, run up the phone bill and torment the cats! It is Ollie’s (ginger cat) 18th Birthday on 10th November and we are under strict instructions to give him a party and take him to the pub for his first legal pint of cat milk!

Anyway, the priest saga – we are planning to get married in a church outside our parish, so, as it isn’t our parish church we have to get permission from the priest in our parish. My poor mother discovered this after several phone conversations one morning last week, including calling the priest at our old church in London.

The priest who will marry us is Irish. We can’t really understand what he says due to the thickness of his accent and his tendency to crack incomprehensible jokes whilst laughing like Mutley or is it Dastardly? Every time we go to church he always asks us when we are getting married? To which I reply “April Father”, (Mutley Laugh) he then says “What, you mean April 1st”. After several weeks of this we are not really seeing the funny side of it. We were even more perturbed when he wished us good luck for a visit to our parish priest earlier this week.

The purpose of the visit was to ask for permission and to get the paper work in order. We had no trouble understanding him as he spoke very very slowly. I was perched on the edge of the sofa trying not to laugh and I was so relieved he wasn’t going to marry us. I think half of the congregation would have been snoring in the pews! He then brough up marriage classes which we have thus far managed to avoid. We left bewildered half an hour later none the wiser and wondering if we had actually achieved anything. We hope to finally sort it out on Saturday morning when we meet with the registrar in Macclesfield. Watch this space……

Ginger moustache dream

Last night I had a very strange dream – it was the day before the wedding and to my horror my wedding dress and the bridesmaid dresses hadn’t been altered. My friend’s Mum who is making our wedding cake was hacking at the hems to shorten them with a pair of garden shears – not good ( I had spoken to her on the phone that evening about the wedding cake so that must be why I was dreaming about her).

Then it was the wedding day and Lucy was wearing the most hideous salmon coloured frock I have ever seen. It resembled an old ladies nylon nighty. I asked her what she was doing wearing that colour when she was supposed to be in Lilac.

Back to the table where the dresses were being altered – a white dress with strips of sequins and big plastic red buttons was laid out. It turns out that this was another bridesmaid dress for my friend Kathryn who I went to University with. I was getting a bit concerned and I took her to one side to tell her that I had only asked my sister and cousin to be bridesmaids. She then turned into a friend of Kathryn’s who I have never seen before and am sure she doesn’t even have a friend that looks like her. She had short ginger hair, spots and very thick ginger upper lip hair. I explained to her the situation and she said she was surprised that Kathryn had asked her to be bridesmaid considering she had never met before. I have no idea who she was but she was not the prettiest of people and would have needed serious waxing if she was going to be any bridesmaid of mine.

Then I was hugging my friend Rowan and telling her how excited I was about the wedding (I had picked up some photos of her wedding back in July earlier on in the day). Then the hug turned sad and I cried in her arms as I was thinking about my Dad not being here to give me away on the day. I woke up - very odd.