Finding sponsors in unlikely places

Let me tell you, they don't just give a warm welcome in Cullen, they know how to throw a good party too. We headed over to the Crannoch for lunch, before the wedding, and consequently hadn't togged up. It seemed the way to it - the bride seemed casually attired for a wedding, in jeans and a t-shirt that read "Keep Calm and Swally On" - I heard her translate it for a child (thankfully) as "keep drinking". And once again, Brenda set us up with a fine meal. Cullen Skink was on the menu (it's soup), although I have to confess to going for deep-fried Camembert, followed by a roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. I felt it was wise to accompany this with soda water, for self-preservation. In all honesty, having this lunch might be the only reason why I'm alive.

Back home, we set to getting the glad-rags on, and I finished the morning's blog, and suitably adorned, we set out, umbrella-clad, into what was now a convincing rain, and made it back to the Crannoch, which I was starting to pick up was a bit of a focal point. Heather was interested to know if there would be any kilts there, which made me laugh, as it was about the only thing I had as a fixed guarantee in my head (long years of knowing Susie has taught me to "expect the unexpected" which was why I didn't make a single comment about the jeans and t shirt). I wasn't mistaken either, there was a fine set of kilts available - and furthermore, they came in all sizes! The first thing that happened was that Jimmy offered me, with a haunted look on his face, a whisky. "Yes please, Jimmy!" I said, but knew that this burnt bridge was going to be a tough one to rebuild. In fact, I almost nulled the whole wedding on account of it, because not long after this, we made our way through to the room where the wedding was taking place, and I'd got right past the usher, who was also my host, Steven, clutching my whisky. He spotted me, however, and confiscated it, explaining that it was against the law to serve alcohol in that room for 24 hours prior to the wedding. So technically, we can have the wedding nulled, although I didn't drink any. I asked Steve to put it somewhere safe for me, which he did.

The wedding was just simply lovely, especially the vows that Susie and Bruce read out, which had all the girls in tears, including one of the bridesmaids. Little Robbie demanded loudly "Why's she greetin', mam?" although his mother wasn't able to answer so I chipped in "Robbie, it's for the same reason you're mam's crying, and I'm crying, and Sarah's crying... we're girls. You'll never understand. It's an important lesson in life". There was something of a lull in the crying when Susie whipped a hanky out of her cleavage for Lauren, which made everyone laugh. After the wedding, amid the photographer trying to capture her subjects (inbetween rain showers and umbrellas) there were a few toasts to be had, cake to be cut, and a little more whisky to be drunk. The smaller Robbie had nicked off with his parents' camera at this point, and was surprising people in thrusting it into their faces at unsuspecting moments and snapping, then laughing at the result. I have to say, though, he got a pretty good one of me.

It was just after Iain showed up and had secured a double whisky for me, that Susie popped into the bar. "Right, the piper's here to pipe us up the road to the reception" she said. "Drink up". "Now?" I queried, looking at the golden amber in my glass, which seemed rather full. "What's the problem? Down it". she told me. I asked the bar staff if I could return their glass later, and they seemed uncertain. I teetered on a timeline between now and student days: I felt Jimmy's pain - and drank it back.

I have a few, hazy images of the rest of the night. Joan, for example, had cooked tablet (which is Scottish for fudge) for 150 people. I danced the Gay Gordon's with Iain, and stood on Jimmy's feet (I subsequently blamed my dance partner), and Strip the Willow (my favourite). There was a lovely spread of food, and more drinking, and more dancing. And some dressing up from people in the most unlikely attire. I think we had the Beetles AND the Pink Ladies from Grease, but I could be mistaken. And at some point I agreed to/demanded to go for a walk up the beach. On the way home from that, we passed Jimmy and Paddy's, who were still entertaining, and Jimmy asked us in for whisky. It should be clear that at this point there was only once answer, as I couldn't disappoint Jimmy. Paddy asked if she could give me a tenner towards my sponsorship, and at some undefined time later, I left (after two drams) with what turned out to be £37 that I'd fleeced from their various guests. When I looked in to say cheerio the next day, they were still reeling from my having persuaded one Dougie to give me £7. Apparently it had been a hard sell.

All I can say is that when Alastair came to fetch me on Sunday morning, he took one look at me, and said "Well, look what the cat dragged in."