Very tired today, but after I scored a much needed haircut up to London in Lorraine's car to stay with Mum and Mase. Or, slightly more accurately, to treat their place like a hotel.
Was phoned by Wynford, who lives next door to Mum and Mase, before we left saying someone from a recording studio would be getting in touch to record some of my poems. Not sure what this completely out of the blue business is all about, but it seems quite interesting.
After a pitstop, up to Hatfield House where Mick Ginty was having his wedding reception. An amazing place, and I'd never been inside it. In our banquet room were huge tapestries hanging from the walls, and centuries old portraits, where everyone was depicted with disproportionately small heads.
Mick and his bride Lucy, who I'd never met, but who seemed very pleasant and attractive, were naturally having a lovely time. It did my heart good to see Mick at such an excellent moment. He and Lucy disappeared and re-emerged sporting some interesting clothes, Mick in a fetching red hat decorated with feathers. His new father in law, garbed temporarily in Elizabethan clothes, supplied a brief discourse about the history of the building, how Elizabeth I was there sitting under a tree when she learned that she would become Queen. The father in law misspoke at this point and actually said "shitting under a tree". Cue stifled snickering.
Mick and Lucy did the obligatory first dance. Then a young but very versatile covers band got going, after which Mick and Lucy seemed to do a good deal of dancing. Lorraine and I got talking to several people, including one ex colleague called Paul, who is now successfully selling mortgages.Melted away into the night, with big drops of cold rain ending what had been a lovely sunny day. Home to Mum and Mase, who fed us a large Mason special sandwiches before we slid off to bed.
Below poor photos... But they give you an idea. Mick and Lucy, the hall, and the famous speech.
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