I went to my first church wedding today. I’ve been to two weddings before, one the wedding of two Scottish people I didn’t know in a village hall where my granny lives, and the other my mum and stepdad’s wedding in the town registery office.
Usually only the treble section of the choir sing at weddings, and they all wear the little ruffled collars that are so quintessentially chorister. I asked for one too, so that I didn’t stick out like a sore thumb (or an uncovered neck, as the case may be). They are downright uncomfortable, I can’t believe the kids can tolerate them every Sunday.
Ruffles aside, I really enjoyed it. The music choices were almost painfully predictable: Panis Angelicus, Lead Me Lord, Lord of the Dance, All Things Bright and Beautiful, and Jerusalem; but the bride kept catching our eyes and smiling, and they both looked very happy and very solemn at the same time. The other choristers told me it wasn’t one of the better weddings (they rated it 35/60, which included three bonus points for the vintage black and burgundy Rolls Royce bridal car) but frankly I thought it was lovely.
The first reading was from the Song of Solomon, and listening to it gave me the same sort of feeling as I get when I’m reading blogs by women raising their children in the Church. That sounds a bit odd but it’s hard to explain – a sort of comfortable anticipation, that hopefully some day I’ll be the one standing there in a poofy white dress listening to those words.
Anyway, that’s enough sentimentality. Yesterday I made appointments with the doctor and with the Director of Music at college, so I now know that I’ll be in Cambridge for graduation weekend, probably Thursday night to Saturday afternoon. I haven’t sorted out where I’m going to stay yet, but I’m sure there’ll be plenty of graduand floor. Now to book the tickets and hope I can find a job to pay for them who don’t mind me taking random weeks and weekends off here and there…