I’ve blogged before, in posts which have now been slightly disfigured by the passing of time and various incompatible WordPress updates, about the night D and I met. That was 18 years ago last Thursday.
And today, two years ago, we got married.
Yes, I know it’s neither a legal marriage nor a religious one; it’s a civil partnership. But we had a wedding. And cake.
Birthday celebrtions filling all my time. Living life, instead of contemplating it. Doing, instead of blogging.
Henley Regatta. Champagne. Hotel du Vin. Friends, love, and the best Eggs Benedict ever.
Joe Allens. More champagne. More Friends. More love, and a chocolate cake with raspberries and candles.
The Waldorf Hotel.
Duran Duran at the O2. More friends - old and new. More champagne. More love, and an Electro set that took them back to their beginnings and made an old Durannie made very happy.
A river boat ride back to the Waldorf.
And, tonight, a slap up meal in a church. With liquers and champagne and friends and love and we’re stuffed…
Tomorrow, off to Ireland where, whilst they do have the net, I intend to live and love. Blogging will resume - with pictures of the above - in a week or so.
Play nice.
1. In 1980, I went to secondary school. It was still a walkable distance from home, but it felt like it was on Mars. Especially on those cold dark winter mornings when I walked all the way under a sky the colour of night, with sleet in my face, and the moon a silver slash of wind-chased light reminding me that I should still be abed.
2. I was bullied in secondary school. By a boy with a mop of curly blonde hair who hung out with a giant moron I nicknamed Lurch. The bully’s name was Barry, and, apart from the halo of blonde curls, he had an obsession with Barbra Streisand. We were friends for the first few months, but then he started to get nasty when I made a new friend, and would follow me home (with Lurch in tow) spitting on the back of my coat, and calling me a queer. Looking back, I don’t think it takes Doctor Freud to work out what was going on there. At the time, I had no idea, so it was a bit upsetting. Particularly explaining the gobs all down the back of my duffle coat to my parents.