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Good morning.

Well, it’s done and dusted: we now have a wonderfully delightful and delightfully wonderful new Mrs Stragnell to welcome to the family. Lucy, I told you it wasn’t too late but, I’m afraid, now it is – you’re stuck with us!

The wedding was fabulous and everything went like clockwork. The months and months of meticulous planning clearly paid off (not that I helped in any sense with any planning or doing anything in a meticulous fashion). The weather was actually more than kind – the sun shone and it was a lovely, warm day – some of our party even experienced a modest degree of reddening of the face and forehead – I think it’s called “sun burn” but we’ve so rarely seen the sun recently in this country that I can’t be sure. The women looked fabulous, the gentlemen scrubbed up well, Nick was especially handsome and Lucy was absolutely gorgeous. The wedding cakes (yes, cakes) prepared by Ms Playchute with the diligent assistance of everyone but me, were outstanding as was every other facet of the day. Even I managed the one task I was charged with – organising the coach to get all of us from Byfield to the wedding venue in Worcestershire. We got there on time and even managed to get home again!

Afraid to say that there is insufficient time to produce a full account of yesterday’s activities for this edition of the Weakly News – we have a houseful of guests who demand entertaining and it will take the odd day or so to muddle through the several thousand photos we took amongst ourselves. In the meantime, you’ll have to content yourselves with this photograph of the wedding party (more to come [maybe] next week) and a few others of the events leading up to the main event.

It will no doubt come as a huge surprise that we have been eating like kings over the past few days. Ms Playchute has prepared a number of feasts which defy description and Thursday the Chinese contingent prepared a meal which was about eight hours in the preparation and gut-bustingly magnificent in its consumption. There were about ten or twelve dishes, each wonderfully fantastic and most everyone managed with their chopsticks. Was it the quantity of food or the use of the chopsticks which contributed to the meal lasting several hours?

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Julia and Sugar preparing their Chinese feast	A selection of the ten (or more) dishes
A gut-busting collection of delicious food	Greg and Sarah not helping at all
Sallie helping Ms Playchute with the wedding cakes	A selection of wedding cakes

Almond cake	Carrot cake	Chocolate cake	Fruit cake	Lemon cake

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The whole fam damly post-Chinese blowout!

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As I say, more to come next week (maybe).

Finally, it is undoubtedly fortunate that Nick and Lucy did not introduce a ban similar to that below – some of us would have been struggling to gain admittance.

Body odour ban for park visitors Rollercoaster riders at a Surrey theme park are being banned from putting their arms in the air - after complaints about body odour. Notices have been put on scary rides at Thorpe Park and staff have been issued with deodorant sprays for customers. Director Mike Vallis said visitors had complained about BO during a previous hot spell this year. A spokesman said: "People may say it's all a publicity stunt but we take our customer feedback seriously." Mr Vallis said the combination of hot weather and exciting rides could produce the unpleasant side-effect of an excess of body odour. "The human body reacts to being scared and being thrilled by sweating a bit more," he said. "We are asking people to keep their arms down in the present hot spell. "In some extreme cases we may even ask people to move to the back of the train so the whole ride doesn't have to go through a cloud of someone else's BO." The spokesman added there was no question of banning people with body odour from the park's rides - which include Stealth, Colossus and Nemesis Inferno - but they would be spoken to quietly and asked to use a deodorant before riding a rollercoaster.

Love to you all,

Greg

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One Saturday morning he gets up early, dresses quietly, gets his lunch made, puts on his long johns, grabs the dog and goes to the garage to hook up his boat to the truck and down the driveway he goes.

As he gets to the street he realizes it's worse than he thought: there is snow mixed in with the rain, and the wind is blowing 50 mph.

Minutes later, he returns to the garage. He comes back into the house and turns the TV to the weather channel. He finds it's going to be bad weather all day long, so he puts his boat back in the garage, quietly undresses and slips back into bed.

There he cuddles up to his wife's back, now with a different anticipation and whispers, "The weather out there is terrible."

To which she sleepily replies, "And can you believe my stupid husband is out fishing in that crap?"

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Bad weather meant I was stuck overnight at O'Hare airport in Chicago. Along with hotel accommodations, the airline issued each passenger a $10 meal ticket, or "chit." That evening after dinner I presented my meal ticket to the cashier.

"Is this chit worth $10?" I asked.

Looking up nervously, the cashier responded, "I'm sorry, sir. Was the meal that bad?"

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A comely redhead was thrilled to have obtained a divorce and dazzled by the skill and virtuosity of her lawyer, not to mention his healthy income and good looks. In fact, she realized, she had fallen head over heals in love with him, even though he was a married man.

"Oh, Sam," she sobbed at the conclusion of the trial, "isn't there some way we can be together, the way we were meant to be?"

Taking her by the shoulders, Sam proceeded to scold her, "Snatched drinks in grimy bars on the edge of town, lying on the phone, hurried meetings in sordid motels rooms - is that really what you want for us?"

"No, no..." she sobbed, heartsick.

"Oh," said the lawyer. "Well, it was just a suggestion."

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