This time last week I attended the wedding of a very good friend in Chalgrove, in Oxfordshire. It was a wonderful day and even the slightly chilly weather didn’t get in the way of a great service and fantastic reception. Since a hog roast, ceilidh dancing and a best man’s speech which hugely embarrasses the groom (regretting that Blind Date appearance yet Tom?), are ingredients for pretty much the perfect wedding reception in my eyes, the scene was set for a great party. A group of us also camped in the garden on the Saturday night, where I realised just how easy my tent is to put up single-handedly, in the dark, with no torch, and not exactly sober. AND it stayed up until the next day!
Tom, Jess, wishing you all the best as you share your life together, may God fill your lives with many blessings.
On a slight tangent, after my massive excitement at seeing a red kite in the woods behind Arpafeelie recently, I was equally excited to see one hovering above the motorway as we made our way to Chalgrove on Saturday morning. Even after I was informed we were entering “red kite country”, I couldn’t quite believe my eyes at the sheer number of birds that we spotted. Swooping low over the road, hovering high above us, I’m not exaggerating too much when I say they were everywhere! Sitting in the churchyard with our picnic (haggis pakora, nom nom nom), walking to and from the pub, walking from the church to the reception; at one point I counted eight kites above us. It made my reaction to the solitary bird in Arpafeelie seem like a total over-reaction, but I maintain that they are just incredible, beautiful creatures, and I felt privileged to be able to see them.