Here Comes the Bride

Our first whistle stop was Bristol, to attend my niece’s wedding. It was a fun and emotional affair. The bride looked gorgeous, the groom dashing. Both looked ectastic. The only variance from the ceremonial norm was the string trio in the church – the viola player hadn’t bothered to turn up. I advised my brother to demand a 25% discount.

When my niece was 15, my first born brother thought it was high time that his daughter knew I was gay. ‘Oh Dad,’ she said. ‘I’ve known for years.’ She’s one cool niece.

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Jack the Mascot

4 thoughts on “Here Comes the Bride

  1. One cool niece, indeed! And what a pretty picture. “Whistle stop” is indeed the right word… All our visits “back home” to the UK are so intense. We never slow down, just trek around from one family member/friend to another, like gypsies… Enjoy!


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