A Traditional Wedding

Picture, if you will, a pair of newlyweds at the culminating event of every traditionally-minded girl's Happiest Day. Imagine the groom stumbling over the threshold, banging the bride's head and both ankles against both doorposts before dropping her onto the solid flagstone floor, which is luckier than to have entered their new home on her own two feet, especially left foot first.

As she lies on the floor, reflectively rubbing the lump on her forehead where her new husband had 'tapped' her with the shoe provided by her father, the bride can review the day's events and tot up the traditions preserved. She had chosen early June, the most popular month for weddings, thus ensuring that everyone present was clean and fresh after the recent annual May Bath, the once-a-year wash endured by Tudor folk. She had been careful to leave a stitch undone on her wedding dress, so that she did not inadvertently wear the complete outfit before the day. Just a pity the gap left had caught in the doorknob resulting in 79 additional last stitches.

On the way to the church, her brothers had, literally, ridden shotgun to ensure that she heard no crows during the journey. And she had taken a long detour to avoid several cemeteries, with graves, and butchers shops, which may have had a pig's head or trotter in the window. Being short-sighted and refusing to wear glasses, she had discounted the possibility that a lizard might cross her path.

Now, in her new home, she could at last remove her shoe and get rid of the damned silver sixpence (actually a 20p piece) which had been digging into her heel all day and had made her limp down the aisle like a white balloon bobbing on the end of a string.

At least she had remembered the all-important veil, worn not to promote the idea of chastity and purity (this is 2010!) but the original belief that, veiled, she would be able to confuse evil spirits out to wreck the ceremony. (Odd thing about evil spirits: they have Machiavellian cunning but, apparently, not the brains to pick out the only person in the entire gathering who has a lace doily over her nose.)

And even before the registrar had got the receipt book out for them to sign, she had slipped her bridesmaid a fiver for a tube of toothpaste, thus ensuring that, having been the first partner to carry out the opening commercial transaction in the marriage, she would go on to dominate it.

Outside, and in accordance with environmental concerns, no plastic confetti had been thrown, nor rice, which birds could choke on and old ladies slide on. Instead the guests had been told that raisins and nuts are now traditional, though it was very unfortunate that young cousin Henry had included a coconut in his bagful. Still, the black eye the groom sustained matched the other one obtained later when one of the beer cans tied to the car – again, to frighten evil spirits away – had ricocheted off the front wheel of the honeymoon Mini.

At the reception, it had been delightful when the ring baked into the cake had actually been served up and found by Great-uncle Jim – who would have a year of good luck once his crowns had been replaced by the dentist.

All in all, their marriage had had the best start it could…