I’m counting down the minutes until the Royal White Lace and Promises Gig to be held on Saturday Morning!
Let there be Crumpets and Lemon Tea and Catty Remarks, like “One would think St. George’s Cathedral could afford an upgrade from those metal folding chairs”, or “Ooooo! HATS!!”, or “Is the Queen carrying the nuclear codes in that purse?”
I invited BUC. He selected an iridescent weather resistant netted table runner with no train. And Mums. BUC likes his Mum.
Reminds me of a wedding I was in. My Flexible Husband-to-Be took me to Dinner. When presenting me a ring at the table, a fumble occurred. I got down to look for it, and when I stood up, the lace table cloth stuck to my hair. So. We got married. In a Mystery Dinner Theater. In a Four Act Play. Titled “Who Cut the Cake?” I played the part of The Bride. That’s old news.
BUC lives in the NOW. He’s hoping Harry has a change of heart.
Clink some champagne on Saturday. Happy Nups, Y’all!