I've been to a wedding. It was my nephews wedding. He and his wife are 22 which seems young. The best man looked about 15 and he will regret the haircut one day. Looked as if he'd just stepped out of that 70's show.
I was strolling along when a woman and man approached me and she said 'how are you going dear?' and I said 'do I know you' and the man said 'only slightly'. Then I laughed loud and long. It was my old boyfriend who I went out with for two years when I was 16 and a girl I was good friends with who he later married. My father thought it was hilarious. He knew them straight away. Thats the good thing about a stroke. You mightn't remember what you had for breakfast but you can remember what was going on over 20 years ago.
Here are mum and dad with another old codger having a few laughs. Dad doesn't usually travel in a wheelchair but the grass was so wet and thick it was easier. I had a laugh when I glanced around and saw some poor bastard bent over pushing him violently and at great speed to get through the grass.
The reception was at my brothers farm and the guests were suitably impresed by the venue.
And the girls did a fine job with the food.
A good night. A lousy trip home. My husband has a satellite navigator. He is always sure he knows short cuts. I'm always sure he's full of shit. But I let him have his way today and we came home on the most narrow, rough, pot holed, crap road you can imagine. Well yes, it may have been shorter but it took just as long because you could only go 40 kilometres per hour. I refused to talk to him. I told him I couldn't because I was thirsty and had to save my spit. You know, in case we slid over the high embankment and it had to sustain me until help arrived.