“Thank you so much for sending the photos over, they’re amazing, exactly what we wanted. We used all my mobile data having a sneaky look at them while we were still in France. And so nice to see my dress when it was still alive (I danced until about 5am and my mum took my dress away in a box in the morning… it’s certainly not white anymore).
Thank you so much for everything!
Mr & Mrs K!
xx”
To Devon today for Kate and Dave’s big day.
See, I never knew you could get married at the top of Smeaton’s Tower. What a thing! I hadn’t been inside it since I was maybe 4 years old (ah! The fateful day I split my arm right open and tried to hide all evidence. No sure how I really thought I was going to pull off that particular manoeuvre. Anyway – moving on…)
So morning preps at Mum’s, then by campervan to Plymouth for the legal bit and drinkies before heading back to Modbury for a rather lovely ceremony with family and friends (Smeaton’s Tower – being rather small – only affords space for less than a dozen bodies)
This – then – is a wonderful celebration of life and love. Of cakes (mostly) made by the groom. Of Kate’s bloody gorgeous dress. Of – once again – sunshine finally overcoming the pesky clouds. Of talking. And of community. Of lovely doggy guests (alas, Ernie had been banished to the Commandant’s house due to pesky puppy behaviour unbecoming of a wedding guest). Of chaotic last minute things going awry (what do you mean ‘the marquee was destroyed in a fire?’ and ‘what? The glasses we hired have all been broken the day before our wedding?’ – and it all being okay in the end.
But most of all? – love. The best four lettered word.
