It was a Thursday.
After being together for almost nine years, Julie and I were getting married. The setting was a very nice hotel in Kent, southern England. We had settled on a Thursday, as it was almost half the cost of a Saturday wedding, for exactly the same deal, and given everyone lots of notice, so they could make arrangements. We had booked most of the rooms in the hotel, so that those travelling some distance, or officiating as part of the wedding party, would not have to concern themselves with where to stay.
It couldn’t really have gone better. Not a single blip, missing guest, or fault by the hotel organiser. If you wanted to see a wedding go smoothly, then this was the one. Not only that, the weather was perfect. Sunny and bright, warm but not hot. Everyone was very happy, and the hotel did us proud, with perfect arrangements, excellent food, and friendly staff. As you may know, we had both been married before, but we agreed that this was the best wedding by far, and one of the best we had ever attended. Guests were able to relax in the extensive grounds, and when additional people arrived in the evening, the extra food soon arrived, drinks flowed, and music played.
When it was all over, we were able to spend some time on the terrace and in the bar. Chatting to our friends and family who were staying over; feeling exhausted, but very happy. Eight years ago today.
Happy Anniversary, Julie.
Today couldn’t be more different. We are no longer living in London, and have a new life in the Norfolk countryside. We also have Ollie, our beloved dog. It is a Sunday of course, and we woke up to light rain, damp, and a chill in the air. Later tonight, we will go to a local hotel for a celebratory dinner. Just the two of us, looking forward to the next eight years.