The Wedding

So the wedding is finally over and I’ve had enough of a break from it to be able to write about it without degenerating into convulsive fits. It’s still not clear why I brought this on myself. To repeat again, Rui did not want a wedding. My wife was happy with the way things were. I was the bloody-minded one. I can only beseech (finally! A chance to use ‘beseech’) anyone in a similar result to, at the very least, think very clearly about how much they value their sanity and relationship.

Having said all of that, the day itself was lovely. Not that the decision to put the wedding during Sydney’s wettest month always seemed like such a great idea. Prior to our arrival it rained for 13 days straight. After about five days of straight rain you sort of think it’ll let up, that the sky would run out of water. After ten days you wonder what you did to offend God. By the time we arrived I had resigned myself to the fact that even if it did rain the whole time we were there it might add a certain charm to the whole proceedings. What….