A lost wedding cake, bike pants and the fire brigade.


Well, I’m married!
It was a beautiful day. The days of heavy rain sandwiched one day of just sun, which was our wedding day. Most things went to plan and I hope everyone enjoyed themselves.

The preparation the day before was crazy. We finished at 9pm, I collapsed at home to sushi, collected by my Maid of Honour and prosecco (much needed.)
The delivery of the wedding cake had dragged out the last couple of hours- My uncle got lost bless him. He rung a few times with no idea as to where he was and no Sat Nav on him. Eventually Jon went to meet him in a car park and my phone refused to pass on my Uncle’s number, leaving Jon driving around the (wrong!) car park trying to find him.

I was very nervous the morning of the wedding and couldn’t sleep at all the night before, I was awake all night (and the night after, due to excitement!) I had a moment of panic outside the ceremony room when I felt I suddenly couldn’t do it and fear took over. I stood there for what felt like an eternity, although Jon tells me it was actually about one minute.
At home that morning my father had phoned me, with the words “There may be a little problem”- not words a bride wants to hear, at 10am on the morning of her wedding. As it turned out he didn’t know how to tie a cravat, turns out no one does including Jon and an usher. So we googled it, and asked the photographer to check (the only other man in a house of 9 women.)

My Maid of honour looked lovely, with her ‘bike shorts’ underneith. She had purchased what I can only imagine were Bridget Jones-style support underwear, and when she put them on her fiancĂ© said “Are you going cycling?” So there we were, wearing marathon pants and bike shorts. We were relatively rushed to get ready. My hair and make up lady had just come from a wedding where the bride was so nervous she had been sick in the taxi on the way to her wedding, not something I wanted to do.
I was so nervous at home before we left I took some tummy-settling tablets, they were buried under my bed so I had to make my Maid of Honour root around for them, dressed up ready to go. I’m not sure she appreciated that! Sorry hun.
I managed to not trip down the aisle, although I did have to negotiate stairs. As I turned the corner towards the ceremony room and everyone was standing, I remembered there were stairs up into the room and everyone was looking at this point. In my head I was panicking slightly but managed to left my dress up and not fall over.
The ceremony was quite long, and I found out afterwards that it was because the 2nd registrar had to re-write the certificates they had prepared because Jon had his dad’s middle name down slightly wrong- he said Jonathan not John. What they don’t tell you as a bride is that when I turned up my overwhelming feeling was that I wanted to say hello to everyone, but had to focus on the vows. I cried in the middle, how embarrassing! Whilst signing my name I was so nervous that half way through I forgot how to spell my own name!
At around 5pm my Maid of Honour and I were in a quiet room powdering our noses and the fire alarm went off! We left the room and I reluctantly had to wonder if the kitchen was on fire. It turned out that something had burned and caught fire, phew. We didn’t know what was to come, which was the fire brigade seemingly on automatic call!! So the fire engine came through the gates and pulled up outside my venue. Our coordinator looked embarrassed and as the best man came out of the Wedding Breakfast room where he was escorting the guests into, I asked him if this was his wedding present to me! The back story is that I once had to call the fire brigade when we had a real fire about 2 years ago, which ironically was referred to in the Best Man’s speech. Seems most of the guests were oblivious to this happening, yet my photographer was quick to have us pose with the hunky firemen, a photo I’m looking forward to seeing and no doubt my new Facebook profile picture.

I did a brief speech to say thank you to everyone involved and who contributed. I embarrassed myself by thanking my Uncle “…for MY beautiful wedding cake, I mean… OUR wedding cake, oops.”
So the jokes ensued the next day about whether I enjoyed MY wedding day and whether I’d already asked the photographer to photoshop out that guy that kept hanging around next to me in photos.

At the end of the evening we romantically walked through town to our wedding-night hotel. Most people were very sweet and said congratulations, one guy shouted “wa-hay”, hmmm not the contribution I hoped to my wedding day. When we reached the hotel it was a race to sit down on the sofa in our room. Jon won since I needed help to get my shoes off, then 10 minutes of help to get out of my dress. Then we collapsed into bed with exhaustion!


One thought on “A lost wedding cake, bike pants and the fire brigade.

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