Wedding dress day

The magazine I write for is full of wedding stories at the moment. I suppose it's that time of year.
There's a feature based on a study that claims one in four weddings ends with a friendship in tatters. There's the tale of the bride whose wedding dress measured thirty-five and a half feet around the hem, was covered in Swarovski crystals and weighed 28 stone. And there's a reminder that tomorrow is Wedding Dress Day.
The idea is to dig out your wedding dress and wear it to work (or whatever) raising money in aid of charity. I didn't have a wedding dress as such. My outfit was a natty mid-80s polka dot dress with big shoulders, so I am in no hurry to resurrect it, even if I could still get it over my hips (which I doubt).
But if anyone out there is interested, you'll find more details on www.weddingdressday.co.uk
PS: Memo to self - relearn how to do click through links

Physic and pipes

Wedding news as follows:
*We have been upgraded on my old friend’s daughter’s guest list. That is to say, we weren’t on it at all to begin with (because the young couple wanted mostly their friends), now we are on the reception list. I’m not entirely clear as to what has been going on behind the scenes – the usual horse-trading, I expect - but the event will require stamina. It kicks off at 2.30pm and the invitation says carriages are at midnight. However, I expect this is code for: oldies welcome for the sit-down meal, but also welcome to make yourself scarce when the music and dancing starts. And young people please note that the neighbours will complain if the noise goes on too late.
I also detect a certain undercurrent of family politics in this note on the back of the enclosed directions. It reads: Please let us know if you’d like to bring your children so we can be prepared. Be aware that the garden opens onto both a canal and river so please don’t let them wander round the garden unsupervised. There will be a nappy changing area available. Translation? Babies ok, but if you have anything walking and talking, don’t bring it. And if you do, don’t expect us to do CPR.

*I had a lovely day out yesterday (a treat masquerading as work) which included an Indian head massage, a Bach flower remedy consultation, lunch in the courtyard of the Wallace Collection (nice food, dreadfully bossy waiter) and a trip to the Chelsea Physic Garden. The heavens opened as we arrived so we drove round the block once by which time the rain had slowed to a drizzle. Despite the dampness it was enchanting and I intend to return. En route a colleague told me she was soon off to a weekend wedding in Poland. At first I thought she meant she was going to Poland for the weekend for a wedding, but she says that the wedding itself will last all weekend. So she will need even more stamina than me.
She also said the detailed programme of events she’d been sent, indicating what would happen when, mentioned drinking vodka quite a lot. The English set of parents are now fretting that there won’t be any champagne at all – and that the English friends and relations won’t feel it’s a proper wedding.

Family news:
*Daughter, husband and baby now in Scotland. The baby has more teeth and is cruising round furniture. I will have to stop calling him the baby – especially as baby no.2 is on the way. I went up to help unpack and was taken to the Bridge of Allan Highland Games, which were a cross between a sports day and a fete with the added bonus of men in kilts tossing cabers and bands of pipers marching and piping.