In which the family Prepares for a Wedding

Janes Journal Page Notes:
Torn Self Portrait

Tomorrow I will find myself,
I can hide no longer,
In someone else’s definition of me,
I define myself...
I am the torn shreds,
Of all the great women who have gone before me,
Put together again by my hand,
The hand of an artist, healer, teacher?
A secret now, but not forever.

Journal entry:
Right, so when I finally got up this morning, I tried to shower. BA. gave me a short lesson on how to work the shower controls. I flunked the lesson: the water was scalding hot and I couldn‘t figure out how to adjust for cold. I stood in the far end of the tub and had a splash-wash, hitting critically important areas and dampening my hair without shampoo. I kept flashing on Samarkand in 1985. What is it with me and cold water!!

Naturally, Beast had no problem at all 10 minutes later. Oh well.

We made it to the family cottage around 11 a.m. We may have eaten some breakfast then; I can’t remember. We walked over to the hotel reception desk and checked to see if our rooms were ready; they were. We moved into the hotel itself, because BA.s other son and his family are arriving. They had arranged to stay together but we arrived a day earlier than originally planned and BA. graciously offered to put us up.

We are now in the hotel proper: Beast & I are in a double room, Sparky has his own single room next door. He's very happy. They are much nicer than the cottages. Still smallish, but more normal shower controls (in Sparky's room--we only have a bath!). I find it so interesting that in homes the bathrooms are enormous, but in hotels they tend to be small, although these aren’t too bad. Our windows still face the street. We are actually just on the other side of the wall from where we were last night...

I must mention the owner of this hotel. He is probably 55-years-old, a very nice man, with a long ponytail of graying hair and a marked limp. He and Jean make a matched set of weird walkers. This hotel was probably built around 120 years ago; it’s not ancient, but it is older than most hotels in America. They still use the old, heavy clanky metal keys. Extremely interesting place. Ben and Marguerite did well selecting it.

After we dropped our suitcases in our rooms, we ate lunch and went off to be tourists. We went to Wakefield Cathedral and walked through some of the downtown area. Marie, Jean, and I had a confused conversation in the Cathedral about why the Vicar of Wakefield (in Goldsmith’s book) was a vicar, not a bishop. Turns out the Cathedral was just the parish church up until the mid-19th century. It’s not a fabulous cathedral, but it’s pretty impressive. Weirdness: the bookshop is in the rear side aisle. Nice kneelers, cross-stitched with all the kinds of employment in Wakefield. I lit a candle for Ellen, as the organist was practicing while we were there. I couldn’t get her out of my head.

We walked back to the cars and drove to the Yorkshire Sculpture Park to see Henry Moore works. I still don’t get him. But we had a nice walk through the park--after tea in the small cafe there--with giant sculptures surrounded by milling sheep. Maybe the sheep understand the art. Got a chance to properly talk to BA. with my brain fully engaged. I like her.

At the pre-ordained time we headed back to the hotel to drop off a few people, then went to the wedding rehearsal. I forgot to mention that last night Jean asked me (for Marguerite) if I’d read a Robert Frost poem, which she and Reg had done at their wedding. I think I was chosen because he‘s American and I have an American accent. Not sure why me when Elizabeth's more actressy...It is lovely to be asked, though.

Here’s the poem:

The Master Speed
No speed of wind or water rushing by
But you have speed far greater. You can climb
Back up a stream of radiance to the sky,
And back through history up the stream of time.
And you were given this swiftness not for haste,
Nor chiefly that you may go where you will,
But in the rush of everything to waste,
That you may have the power of standing still --
Off any still or moving thing you say.
Two such as you with such a master speed
Cannot be parted nor be swept away
From one another once you are agreed
That life is only life forevermore
Together wing to wing and oar to oar.

They didn't have me do it at the rehearsal, but I got the hint that there will be no mic. The church is round. And yes, it is indeed an unusual ceremony. Unusual songs. Unusual readings (besides the Frost, they are using something from the second chapter of the Song of Songs, Colossians 3:12-17, and something from "The Prophet").

First impression of Ben: he seems calm and confident. Much like Reg in a way. It was good to finally meet him!

Things I haven’t mentioned:

• Chester & Jennie, the hotel dogs--a lab and a retriever. They are kept in a wired area near the corner where we turn to walk behind the hotel to get to the cottages. Never together. They are puppies, after all, and quite excitable. Sweet.
• Our GPS rocks! We programmed in the Sculpture Park and it knew better than Reg how to get there!
• The flowered "carpet" Marguerite & Ben. will walk into church on tomorrow. Voile with large plastic/silk flowers sewn on randomly about eight inches apart. It’s probably fifty yards long, but then ruched up in the aisle, just waiting to trip someone.
• Jan... whew... He's in rare form, makin' almost everyone nuts.

The rehearsal dinner was back at the hotel. This is something that the Brits don’t normally do. And it showed: finger sandwiches for dinner--interesting concept. Basically, tea about three hours late. Even Ben was taken aback. They weren't awful, and certainly food enough to keep me till morning. But I think he expected a bit more, something a bit nicer.

We had the bar and meeting room to ourselves. Actually, I suppose it was more like the 'snug; and the dining room. But that’s not where they serve breakfast...there seem to be an awful lot of public rooms, considering this isn’t a very big hotel!

We did meet several of Ben's friends. They are apparently Marguerite's friends too, but primarily they knew him first: former roommates, former workmates...of his. Also met his brother and family, and his dad, who is quite a character, apparently a bit like Jan. Reg’s siblings and their spouses were there, whom I haven’t seen since 1985. Wow. It was good to see them again. Also, Katherine and Alan arrived in time for the festivities. She is exhausted. They’ve had a good trip, but have covered 1200 miles to date! Somehow! {They arrived 6 July and head home on the 20th and have spent 10 days driving from Manchester to Wales to Bath to.....etc., etc. all over the island.} Alan, on the other hand, seems quite perky. He's a good guy.

I’m tired tonight but not really wiped out. Tomorrow I need a shower--my hair is uck! I’ve come upstairs to get my brain slowed down so I can sleep; Beast is still downstairs -- "for awhile," he said. But not too long. I’m going to read about Wakefield Cathedral, practice the Frost (i.e., talk to myself) a time or two more, and possibly do a crossword.

Wedding news tomorrow!