A purpose of human life, no matter who is controlling it, is to love whoever is around to be loved. - Kurt Vonnegut
HOLYCOWYOUGUYS. Can we talk about yesterday's wedding for a minute? Only a minute. I can't imagine this would be interesting to anybody who wasn't there.*
First, the bride:
RIGHT! Meet Anne: famous for ball-busting, straight-talking, and having legs a mile long. Ugh.
Second, the weather. Scotland in the autumn is riDICulous:
It's honestly enough to turn your stomach.
Third, Glasgow Cathedral:
For the best Gothic ceremony a marriage can buy. Goats optional.
This morning we took a walk to the Loch Lomond boathouse because the air was crisp and clear and also we gained twenty pounds after eating for five hours straight last night and also they had a little restaurant serving coffee and also, how could you resist this?:
Motto: Making People Punch Themselves in the Face Since 1968.
It turns out half the London crew had the same idea. It's like we're all friends for a reason. Behold, the Ladies of Sporting Hackney**:
This isn't all of them, of course. The others were no doubt in more sensible places, like bed. This is Maria the Intellect, Marie the Edge, and Louise the Style. Just wait until you meet the Comedy, the Party, and the Class***.
It's how we roll.
After we got back to Barrhead, we took a walk to visit Alan's aunt and uncle and had to pass a graveyard to get there and I kid you not:
THIS ROLLED RIGHT IN. IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY. It's like they know I know.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to find a cross made of garlic. Our trip back to London isn't going to protect itself.
Big hugs and lots of love,
*I say this only because I would totally tune out anybody who wanted to tell me a wedding story. Please. Start with the traffic you encountered on the way there. I've got all day.
**Sporting Hackney: the London football team that binds our group like so much spilled whisky on a parquet dance floor.
***This is you, Rachael. Once you're in, you can never get out.