I have the totally pleasurable task today of sending out invitations to our Golden Wedding.
By the time they plop onto people's doormats, it will be more or less exactly
three months until the Big Day. Which, unusually for me, would appear to be Perfect Timing.
I love the invites which have been sourced for us by the Middle of the Darling Daughters, arguably the most artistic
of our Foursome. I remember ten years ago, when arrangements for our a Ruby Wedding were in full swing, that the four of them made quite the perfect team. The Eldest of the Darling Daughters was the organiser and shopper; the Middle of the Darling Daughters
provided creativity; the Youngest of the Darling Daughters was the communicator; Our Boy was the ace negotiator. What a team!
When Mr B's parents were coming up for their Golden Wedding, we planned a secret
party for them. It was such a bad idea. So upset were they that nobody in the family appeared to be doing anything to mark their special day that they decided to take matters into their own hands and started booking hall, food and all the trappings. We had
to come clean before we found ourselves with two simultaneous events celebrating the same anniversary.
There's a lot to organise so I am particularly pleased that, thanks to the M of the DDs, all the information
our guests require is on either the front or the back of the invite. This means that all I need to do is to slip each card into one of the envelopes provided and address it. Bearing in mind that, as regular readers are well aware, our New Year's Resolution
is to make life easier for ourselves, this is ideal.
I'm keen that this "Golden Shoes Day" (to quote one of my favourite songs from our Friday morning choir) should not just be about the two of us but about our
whole family - all we have created over fifty years of marriage. To this end, I am hoping that every one of our Foursome should have a special role on the day. What would she like to do, I asked the Youngest of the Darling Daughters last week as we sat sipping
coffee in the winter sunshine on Brighton's promenade.
"I thought I'd sing a solo!" she announced. Then, seeing my face, added quickly: "Only joking!" Ah, yes, despite both of her off-spring being star performers
lighting up many a stage, this daughter of mine has always shied away from the merest hint of limelight. I have left the thought with her; there's plenty of time for detailed planning.
I'm hoping the four
eldest grandchildren will sing for us. I've an idea or two (or three) for the (Not So Very Little) Welsh Boys, Duracell Bunny and all. The Twinkles will be eighteen months old and can just be their beautiful, twinkling selves. Young Faris can hand round the
We will travel to the Church in style. Our cabbie Son in Law is the proud owner of the only golden cab in the whole of London. As far as bling is concerned, there is nothing quite like
it. It has to be seen to be believed - and it will be at our disposal on our Golden Day.
So you can see that our plans are slowly emerging. For now, however, it's just about getting the invites into the post.
I bought all the stamps today - it was a bit like Christmas Come Early.
I like to imagine everyone's faces when they open their envelope. I hope they will feel every but as excited as I felt, slipping each card
into its envelope, carefully writing out the addresses, sticking the stamps on the top right grand corner.
A little bit of me also hopes they'll be saying: "Good heavens, they can't be that old, surely to
Yes, dear reader, I was indeed a Child Bride and Mr B a Cradle Snatcher.
That's my (Golden Wedding) story and I'm sticking to it.