Wedding Day August 12 2001

The day dawned to a spray of rain. Little wind but the skies were gray. Stayed hidden upstairs as the guest arrived. I would only have been in the way downstairs. Became more nervous than I thought I would as the appointed hour approached. Heather suggested that I picture the gathered crowd naked but there were some very attractive women present…

The nervousness faded once the ceremony began, the rain staying back, outside on the lawn. There was a beautiful view down the valley towards Shrewsbury as we exchanged our vows.


The ceremony was over faster than expected but the quotations from Kahlil Gibran and Corinthians were very beautiful. Pictures, though seeming to last forever were a welcome opportunity to retreat from the crowds and have an excuse not to mingle.
Strange how a wedding is the one real time when a man is expected to cry. I felt no need of tears; the silly smile stretched across my face should have said it all! Heather did shed tears, though not in any sobbing fashion that would justify her many apologies.
The winds began to pick up as the night grew old, until a virtual tempest raged outside. Heather picked up a faithful companion, Emily Rose who followed her everywhere. I was not included in their group until Emily followed me to the barn to say goodnight and I carried her out of the frightening darkness.
All in all today has been the best day of my life.


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Day 5 August 11 2001

A day of racing clouds and events. The sky has been grey all day and the clouds have sped across the sky as though pursued. Rehearsal day. One day before the wedding. The clouds began to mist even as we walked out to begin the rehearsal. It was a beautiful, misty rain that hugged the ground and cast a fine spray in your face, as though you're standing on the prow of a ship. But beautiful as rain may be we can't hold the wedding in it. So we moved inside. Low slung oaken beams and stone wall will most likely frame our marriage vows.
The rehearsal went as smoothly as possible I suppose but my place isn't in the spotlight. I am disappointed in the vows that I have written, I wanted a spartan simplicity, an elegance that speaks of clean lines and clear purpose and yet they feel full of trifles, ornaments that serve no purpose.
I find writing today difficult, as thought the effort to write vows has drained my creativity whilst the rehearsal dinner and the expectations of the guests has drained me of my will. I cannot help but wonder where my enthusiasm has gone.

The enthusiasm has gone to nausea. The Guinness and the rack of lamb that we had at the rehearsal dinner did not agree with me as much as I would have liked. Even as I write the world went into a strange little dance.

I am writing now much later with the ill effects gone. The food in Britain, while not fundamentally different, is richer than at home. The lamb I ate was more fat than meat and difficult to choke down, The Guinness was more like coffee than lager and a single pint was enough.

Next entry: Wedding Day!
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Day 3 August 9 2001

The Third day of this, our strange odyssey, has been a confused jumble of everything, so much so that it hardly seems like the same day. Heather's family has arrived, bringing our strange little ceremony one step closer. Arnold was overawed by being in a garden such as Audrey and Den's.

The view from the back forty is indescribable down onto the Shrewsbury plain. I almost feel as though I’m atop a mountain looking out at the great flat that stretches, in neatly hedged shapes, off to the infinite.

Travelled to Church Stretton once more today and arranged to have Heathers etching framed. The difference between her two etchings is like night and day and while her first is excellent the second declares her talent as a true artist.

I’ve notices, as I write this that my thoughts flow far faster than I can write and my script ends up ragged and my words not fully formed. So frequently my sentences make little sense. Leonardo wrote backwards, I have no such need.

I have dubbed Audrey the Ample Provider and through her hands all of our needs are solved as though by magic. She is an amazing woman, every task she sets her hand to is resolved and always with a smile and a bit of a tale. The work ethic that built this farm is difficult for a gadabout such as I to understand. While I sleep until noon a world is built around me.

I have determined that on the first day biking we will strive to reach the town of Clun. But the names of the towns around us draw my eye like magnets. Who can resist the lure of Caer Caradoc?

Next Entry: Day 4
Previous Entry: Day 2

Day 2 August 8 2001

Day 2 at the Parkgate Farmhouse has come and gone in a flurry of activity. The day commenced with a bracing round of yard work. How different it is to wheel a barrow in your own interest than that of someone else. Everyone chipped in, picking up a rake, a shovel, or labouring in the kitchen.

We traveled to Church Stretton and to Craven Arms and to Ludlow to finish up wedding plans, finalize trivial last detail and put a final polish on things while Heather and Audrey toured the Hill family together. As I traveled I felt renewed freshness and eagerness to be in England and saw the spirit that brings me back. I saw also the nausea that accompanies any travel on the tortured roads of Shrewsbury as they writhe across the landscape.
One source of great intrigue is the dog here at Parkgate. Jake with the one blue eye. Does the grass that he tears and lays almost plaintively before the still lawnmower have significance or are the religious overtones merely in my head?

Next Entry: Day 3
Previous entry: Day 1