The Reception
Apr. 26th, 2014 09:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sawylFor once we weren't the very first to arrive, but we still got there in time to see my sister and her husband standing around in front of the Old Mill, glasses of champagne — probably more likely prosecco — in hand, posing for their photographer.
Champagne sir? Madam? Just say when...
A suitably newly-wed look portrait in front of the Old Mill. Careful cropping was required to remove various parents and children standing just off to the right...
Inside, the room looked very nice thanks to last night's stirling work: the pub had provided the basic linen, but they'd gone in and arranged chair covers, linen runners, candles, and roses. They'd also sorted out the cake — cupcakes from a stall in Coventry Market — complete with a miniature version of the happy couple:
A rather under-exposed photo the cake...
Charlie caught in a reflective moment, inspecting the tiny versions of his parents, his thoughtfulness only slightly undermined by the smear of chocolate on his face...
A close-up of the couple on the cake.
We had any enjoyable early — in my case that meant a goat's cheese salad and profiterole, plus a certain amount of an unwanted ginger sponge — and everyone had a good time; even the children were on best behaviour. After the dinner came the inevitable speeches, all of which were mercifully short and only given with a certain reluctance — which explains why no one else wanted to speak at the ceremony!
My dad's Father of the Bride speech was really rather good, not particularly embarrassing, and seemed to be improvised on the spot; which sounds impresssive until you realise that spent his entire working life standing up in front of people and talking around a subject. He was followed by Sue, who gave a little friend of the family speech — she made it through despite sounding very emotional towards the end.
Andrew saying a few words. I can't remember what he said, but he was very concise. It wasn't quite my favourite of the night: that honour went to Nigel, the best man, who said a few short words before proposing his a toast to the bride and groom — just how these things ought to be done!
Once everything had been said, all that was left was the cutting of the giant cupcake and the start of the party.
My sister wielding a lethally sharp knife with aplomb.
(I think this is probably the only one of my indoor photos taken with flash — I tend to worry that using too much flash, particularly without an external gun that can be discreetly angled, makes everything look a bit washed out. I bit the bullet in this case because the proper photographer had gone and I didn't want to risk massively under-exposing the shot — as with most of the rest of my pictures!)
I eventually pushed off at around 9:30, having planned sufficiently far ahead to ensure I had money for a taxi home. As I was leaving, I got talking to a woman standing around in front who told me how nice everyone had looked — a complement I passed on the next day — and how she'd thought people where going to start clapping when the bride went through! I got back at a reasonable hour but I have no idea what time the others got back — and, when I asked the next day, none of them seemed any the wiser either!
Still it was a good day, I'm happy my sister and family enjoyed themselves, and, for all my complaining, I'm pleased and proud to have been part of it.
Champagne sir? Madam? Just say when...
A suitably newly-wed look portrait in front of the Old Mill. Careful cropping was required to remove various parents and children standing just off to the right...
Inside, the room looked very nice thanks to last night's stirling work: the pub had provided the basic linen, but they'd gone in and arranged chair covers, linen runners, candles, and roses. They'd also sorted out the cake — cupcakes from a stall in Coventry Market — complete with a miniature version of the happy couple:
A rather under-exposed photo the cake...
Charlie caught in a reflective moment, inspecting the tiny versions of his parents, his thoughtfulness only slightly undermined by the smear of chocolate on his face...
A close-up of the couple on the cake.
We had any enjoyable early — in my case that meant a goat's cheese salad and profiterole, plus a certain amount of an unwanted ginger sponge — and everyone had a good time; even the children were on best behaviour. After the dinner came the inevitable speeches, all of which were mercifully short and only given with a certain reluctance — which explains why no one else wanted to speak at the ceremony!
My dad's Father of the Bride speech was really rather good, not particularly embarrassing, and seemed to be improvised on the spot; which sounds impresssive until you realise that spent his entire working life standing up in front of people and talking around a subject. He was followed by Sue, who gave a little friend of the family speech — she made it through despite sounding very emotional towards the end.
Andrew saying a few words. I can't remember what he said, but he was very concise. It wasn't quite my favourite of the night: that honour went to Nigel, the best man, who said a few short words before proposing his a toast to the bride and groom — just how these things ought to be done!
Once everything had been said, all that was left was the cutting of the giant cupcake and the start of the party.
My sister wielding a lethally sharp knife with aplomb.
(I think this is probably the only one of my indoor photos taken with flash — I tend to worry that using too much flash, particularly without an external gun that can be discreetly angled, makes everything look a bit washed out. I bit the bullet in this case because the proper photographer had gone and I didn't want to risk massively under-exposing the shot — as with most of the rest of my pictures!)
I eventually pushed off at around 9:30, having planned sufficiently far ahead to ensure I had money for a taxi home. As I was leaving, I got talking to a woman standing around in front who told me how nice everyone had looked — a complement I passed on the next day — and how she'd thought people where going to start clapping when the bride went through! I got back at a reasonable hour but I have no idea what time the others got back — and, when I asked the next day, none of them seemed any the wiser either!
Still it was a good day, I'm happy my sister and family enjoyed themselves, and, for all my complaining, I'm pleased and proud to have been part of it.
