Its hard to believe that nearly twenty five years have passed since at the tender age of 23 I married my Graham.
Graham got down on one knee and proposed to an eight months pregnant me at sunset, on a wet beach at Penmaemawr in North Wales, it was the most romantic thing ever.
We were living in London and it went without saying that I would be married in the family church in Clifford, Herefordshire. Although Graham and I aren't religious ourselves we didn't question the whole church aspect, the vicar was a family friend and the local community played a huge part in my families life.
Budget was always going to be a problem and being so far away much of the planning was left to my lovely Ma, who proved to be the most tenacious and resourceful woman I know.
We collected tokens from the newspapers and got the ferry to Calais as foot passengers and along with mother in laws shopping trolley bought bottles of Le Piat d'Or (The height of sophistication in 1993!) for the reception.
Ma rallied the troops - Aunts made salads, Grandad supplied strawberries for dessert and cava for the toast. My dress was made by 'someone who does a bit of dressmaking!' The veil edged with Great Grandmas lace. The choir sang for a bottle of wine, the bellringers ditto! My sister made the wedding cake as part of her cookery O'level and my brother made the stand. The local newsagent supplied the wedding car and another friend made table decorations. Father in law was the photographer, flowers picked from the garden. Friends were waitresses and everyone helped to wash up. The disco was a present and my cousins and Uncles manned the barbecue in the evening. Grahams list of thank you's for his speech was endless!
Would you know have known it was a budget wedding? I'd like think not - linen tablecloths, fresh flowers, the lack of a strict colour theme, made it a whimsy country wedding, maybe not the most elegant, the most breathtaking or sophisticated - but it was bursting with love, laughter and joy. The happiest day of my life