It’s happening. Shops are opening, weddings are being planned. Love is in the air. If Scotland follows the UK’s example, however, there will also be no screechy singing or dad dancing allowed. Aw, Nicola. Don’t do that. I am keen to get back to dancing at weddings.
I need the exercise because I may have put on a bit of weight recently. To be fair, I’ve had a lot on my plate.
New rules for weddings are starting in England so you can be sure that they will be here in just a few weeks. No food or drink. Wot? That’s not a wedding. No more than 30 guests. That’s just a house party. I’m kidding.
It’s fine as it will keep the cost down in these unprecedented times. There, I said it. I knew that would slip out sometime soon. I reckon more couples will think of this matrimony lark if they can cut the cost from £10,000 to £500. I certainly would – if I was in the market for that sort of thing, of course.
These new wedding rules make us all think back to when our own love was fresh and new. Right now, Mrs X is very quiet, and bubbling silently. She must be thinking of our special day all those years ago. Either that or she’s making French onion soup again.
Before exchanging rings, couples will have to wash their hands and rub them together really hard. Not the rings, their hands. Bring loads of sanitiser, they say. Imagine going to a wedding and squirting more alcohol on your hands than you pour in your mouth?
Ochan ochan, changed days indeed. We may even have more weddings outside. Good. My hay fever is not so bad nowadays. Anyone else miss having hard, crusty sleeves?
Will the rules immediately change when people get hitched? At the moment, you’re not allowed near anyone who doesn’t live in the same house as you. Instead of kissing, will they blow kisses? Or air hugs like the luvvies in Absolutely Fabulous and in certain parts of Garrabost?
“Mwah dahling,” one purrs enticingly, while the other tries to catch the air-blown kiss and growls: “Haoi darrrling. Do that again and stop looking at my brother this time.” It could cause mayhem.
Newlyweds can forget that hand-rubbing rule, possibly. They can rub anything they want to – like noses, lips and bumps they want to keep out of sight. Another thing is that wedding ceremonies are to be kept to just the legal bits.
How on earth can certain ministers manage if they can’t threaten trembling couples with eternal damnation? Good, I say. Don’t hang about. Get hitched and get out.
Do your talking while you’re walking. Now who’s got the carry-out, hic? More Special Brew, Reverend Macdonald?
Singing loudly is now to be strongly discouraged, as is blowing wind. Fine. I have my way to do that sneakily so no one hears. Oh, they mean wind instruments? Like bagpipes. Hurray, they’re just a horrendous racket anyway.
Only one person will be allowed to sing or chant. Screens may be installed to protect everyone. From what? Virus-laden droplets, bad breath and the terrible voices – like fingernails down a blackboard.
Singers, no one tells you that you are that awful but, if you sing at weddings, that could be you. Don’t get paranoid, just pack it in.
Have you heard the UK Government guidance on changing wedding layouts? Traditional romantic face-to-face encounters may be banned and face masks worn. Couples may even have to stand back-to-back – like fighting a duel.
That usually comes five years later. If masks are worn and you can’t see who you’re marrying, that could be dodgy. Lewis people could end up marrying a Hearach guest by mistake. Catastrophic.
Soppy Mrs X decided the lockdown was a chance for her to reconnect with nature. Planting seeds in two pots, she has waited for the emergence of the green shoots of recovery.
For weeks, nothing happened in that kitchen window. The expected cactus and peace lily looked like they were going to be a dead loss.
Maybe she was not giving them enough water. Maybe not enough sun here. What a shame.
The other morning, I was just about to flip my smoked mackerel when I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. Green shoots – in both pots. Wow! I shouted herself to come and witness this miracle of new beginnings. She was so excited she leaped down the stairs and promptly wet her plants.
She certainly has a softer side, although I don’t see it often nowadays.
I remember when she got her first mobile phone. We had not long been married and she was still quite soppy.
She sent me a text at work that said: “If you’re sleeping, send me your dreams. If you’re laughing, send me your smile. If you’re eating, send me a bite. If you’re drinking, send me a sip. If you’re crying, send me your tears.”
I replied: “That’s nice. I’m on the toilet. Please advise.”
