In which marriages are celebrated, the blossom blooms and there are pygmy goats


It felt more like summer than early spring this weekend. This was superb timing as Saturday saw our very good friends A and P celebrate their first wedding anniversary with a big party for family and friends. They’re the ones who eloped last year to a Canadian mountaintop, so we all demanded a rematch so the British contingent could celebrate their marriage with them. They picked an amazing location – one of my favourite restaurant/venues in the city – where the food was superb, the views stunning and the wine flowing all night. Because it was so hot we met up with some friends before the main event kicked off and spent a happy hour catching up over cider in the sunshine. S was one of the best men and did a brilliant job with his speech (if I do say so myself) whilst looking mighty fine in his suit. I was honoured by being seated at the top table, and even got to speak myself – reading out the bride’s mother’s words from across the Atlantic. It was also our six month anniversary (where does the time go?) so we had a recreation of our wedding dance out on the waterfront, singing the words ourselves in the moonlight as we tried to remember the steps.

The next day I was left a mountain bike widow so I took my book and a Cornish pasty to the park to soak up the sunshine. I’m glad I had my camera on me as the flowers were stunning – pink blossoms stretching as far as the eye could see.



And just to make you smile, here is a pygmy goat I saw at the city farm. Happy Monday!

Hello, I am a pygmy goat. That means I am extremely cute, especially with my pink collar.



3 responses »

  1. Pingback: In which ukuleles are bought and bats are met « Postcards from the Edge (of the West Country)

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