Brit weddings vs American weddings....

So, we managed to get married.... We have yet to get the completed marriage license back (that's another story in itself) but it is all legal, we've been promised.



There was a strictly limited mention of God, I didn't have to sign away our first born in service to Liberty or some such, nor pledge my allegiance to anything more than Bill. In fact, the service was really rather lovely, I thought, although I couldn't quite figure out whether to cry or laugh my way through it so not sure if I was in the best state to judge.

I intend to drag out my observations on English vs American weddings, just to ease myself back into blogging. But one thing I will say for now is that I was extremely glad this happened more than three years after I arrived here. Because, oh my god, the HUGGING.... After three years, I've built up just enough stamina to cope with all the hugging while only wincing on the inside. (Even the florist (male) wanted to hug me. Twice.) Seriously. There was such a terrible amount of hugging going on that even the Brit family seemed to catch on after a while. It got dangerous out there, especially if you were wearing a white dress*....


(This is my new sister(-in-law). Quite possibly the second-best thing about getting married was getting a sister).


*I actually didn't manage to spill anything on the dress which, if you knew me you'd realise is some sort of a miracle in itself. It did wind up with a lot of grass stains, which made me sad for a little while, but after some drinking and more dancing it didn't really seem to matter so much.