Brother and Bones

I rarely go to shows anymore but when I do they seem to be the right shows. Last night, despite feeling so ill leaving the house felt like a bad idea, I managed to stumble my dreary way into a night of audio charm. My other half had the sense to book tickets to the up and coming night at the Jazz Café in Camden, (£10 with a free drink? Of course I’m taking that every time). Hosted by Time Out, with the Unsigned Music Awards, the show put on four acts one that we were already aware of and as far as I’m concerned show stealers.

            Of course I’d be whole heartedly lying if I could say they stole the entire night, due to the fact I felt so rough by the time they’d finished that I left, but what an amazing performance from a band that is considered ‘folk’ by the geniuses at Spotify, (not that folk music can’t be amazing in its own right). They were introduced as a Rock band on the night and I’d be lying if I didn’t feel a little beyond my years when I say rock they certainly did.  To my surprise they didn’t play the folksier of their tunes but the heavier rock orientated songs that had a power that I would compare to Biffy Clyro.

Brother and Bones have a magnificent way of transitioning between verses, that are reminiscent of mellow alternative and then bursting from well-placed bridges into choruses with sheer effortlessness. The arrangement of their songs has me believing that they were in bands of heavier climbs in the past, fearlessly placing choruses as early or as late in a song as they please rather than keeping to a strict layout that most ‘popier’ music demands. Without a doubt their live show was waiting to explode but I think maybe there was a slight reluctance due to the size of the venue plus the audience. Although this reluctance seemed obvious, they simply couldn’t contain it towards the end of their set when they began to physically re-instate their appreciation for music visually.

The best thing about the performance was the tracks they selected to play. ‘For all we know’ is their most accessible and probably most popular song, but also from 2012. Although the song makes an appearance on their self-titled 2015 release, it was great to see a band that didn’t just play their most popular song instead of songs they enjoy, songs that represent them best as a band, songs that they want to be defined by: a rock band with guts. 

Without a doubt they were the right band to have later in the shows line up. With vocals that sounds pitch perfect when compared to the studio, guitar that screamed even more than their recordings and percussion that wasn’t afraid to go down the heavier route of rock, Brother and Bones are the band to see as much as possible before they become to big and you simply can’t afford the tickets.

Jumping Reds

On Tuesday I journeyed to the lovely city of Cambridge to take part on a driving course for accidentally jumping a red light. Should you find yourself in this situation, here's what you might find...

Instead of a room full of 15 morons who could care less about what they had done, or why they were there, I was presented with a room that contained some of the hyperbolic characters that you expect to meet in life as well as people not so dissimilar to myself. It was definitely a melting pot for all and I was along for the ride.

The presenters of the course itself, George and Frances, were two pretty comical guys with a lot of character and albeit formulaic wit, it was funny all the same. I'm sure repeating the same things over and over again, day in day out all over the country can wear a bit thin and as they had already done a class that morning I'm sure they were more than ready for home.

But this didn't phase them at all. The banter was good and after everyone had warmed up to each other, (typically 10 minutes before the end), things were a lot easier.

I also managed to learn a few things on the course, handy tit bits of knowledge that could help the every day driver from avoiding landing themselves on the course or even worse 3 points on their license. Obviously there are far worse outcomes to driving like a bloody moron, but we'll skip the more macabre aspects of life.

For starters I realised that holding a mobile phone, not using it to make a call, not texting, not being a moron and checking Facebook, can land you in the same position I was in. Although I wasn't there for a mobile phone offence, unlike a good 60% of the class, I am guilty of having used mine in the past whilst driving. Mainly to change songs, but others things as well.

The course did a great job of reminding everyone that they are human, they we all make mistakes, but in this case we should consider reevaluating our weird superiority complexes and accept the mighty driving gods aren't in fact controlling our fate: we are.

You know what else I found out? Slow signs are put where there has been a fatal collision. The majority number of the slow signs we see are actually there because someone thought, 'I can definitely take that corner going 80' and failed miserably. Also SLOW is an acronym. It stands for 'Speed Low Observe Warning'. That's insane to me. How did I not know that? Also how did I forget between yesterday and today and have to Google it? Who knows!

Although the overall experience was positive, there were a few people in the room that I wish could have had their licenses taken off of them there and then. One woman had clearly felt the punishment was unfair and at every given opportunity would relate the examples back to being busy or having too much to do in the day, while another was just a moronic generic middle aged trophy who drives a car too big for her. Also, trophy wives really shouldn't be considered trophies unless every time they open their mouths they have something innately profound to say as well as being a looker. Plus, she was more of what I'd call a 'complete fucking idiot' over a trophy, but who am I to label people?

Either way, the moral of this story is, we're all stupid, we're all human, but for your own sake and for the people around you, think of driving as a very expensive and frustrating privilege over a right that we instil in ourselves. If we had the right to drive, there would be no punishment, there would be no license.

Long time no see

So I've been a tad lacking on the front of writing recently, mainly because I've fallen into the ever dangerous pit of self wallowing that seems to swoop in every so often. However I plan on thwarting this slippery slope before I land at the bottom wondering what happened. It's going to be a slow process, but I plan on taking this blogging thing, (and the whole 'writing' thing), a tad more seriously and hoping to actually delve into my, hopefully, hidden depths and attempt to drag out some sort of artistic ability.

I'll start small and tell you all about a rather fascinating exhibit I went to see this weekend on the wonderfully positive E.H. Shepard...

The day started with promise and bad weather as we strolled out onto the drizzly streets of London. Although the sky was a concerning shade of grey, E and I made out way through the damp towards King's Cross station in the hopes that the exhibition wouldn't reflect the dull metallic tone London was threatening us with. Out optimism was rewarded once we set foot into the House of Illustration. 

Shepard's diary.

The building itself was unimposing and aesthetically quaint for a place that held such imagination within its walls. Rather than a grandiose statement through its architecture, the House of Illustration was subtle and refreshing new building in a city that tries very hard to grab your attention no matter how engrossed you are, in whatever you are, via entirely glass facades or obscene colour schemes. Instead we were confronted with a structure that was unassuming and containing an intriguing tale of an illustrator turned war hero, a man known mainly for his later work in the Hundred Acre Wood and other children's illustration, a man who seemed to keep a positive outlook despite heartbreaking loss and being witness to several of the worst battles in the first world war, the wonderful E.H. Shepard.

What struck me as important about Shepard was his actual artistic ability. Although most of us know him as a children's illustrator, his scratchy style of drawing contains subtle strokes of genius. His ability to separate his foreground and background using a simply change in density to pen stroke was wonderful. His work was far more detailed than I would have assumed his work would have, his images of Pooh Bear and his friends firmly ingrained into my childhood as a messy, chaotic set of erratic strokes. Instead I was presented with very precise images, the facial features surprising me in particular.

Although minimalist in many places, the penetrating humour that is held in a great deal of the satirical artwork that he provided for Punch magazine shows us the true wit of a man whom was not simply a soldier who happened to become an illustrator, but a social commentator with the best interests of his friends, family and the general public at heart.

With his ability to keep morale up on the front and also back home, Shepard shows us how important a war of the mind is when facing adversary of the proportions that the First World War presented. Instead of writing home regarding the horror of the Somme, or Arras, or even Passchendaele he ensured that the horrors of such events were in fact never shown to those near and dear to him.

Some of Shepard's personal effects, including an art box pictured on the upper right of the image. A box that he took with him everywhere.

The death of Shepard's brother was one of the most crushing things to read about, especially on the format of a plaque. Cyril was obviously a massive part of Shepard's life and his death, although significant to Shepard himself, was still hidden from public view it seemed. A man of many pictures shared few words with the world regarding his loss and struggles of the war. It was incredibly sweet to see the few complaints that he made regarding the war, focussing mainly on the hours of the day being lengthy rather than the possibility his own death could take place at any moment.

A map containing the place where Shepard's brother died.

Without a doubt seeing the works of a man who had an influence on my own childhood was brilliant. Although heartbreaking in places, discovering that Shepard was not only a man who simply illustrated, albeit some of the best, children's books but a man who had a huge heart with the ability to keep those around him happy despite the bleakest of situations. He is one of the people that I can safely say I am saddened that I will never have the opportunity to meet.

LoL Quarter Finals - The differences between sports and E-sports

The KT Rollers take on The Koo Tigers.

Although e-sports have been around for many years, the niche market has had an explosive expansion in the last few years – especially in Europe.

Games such as Starcraft and Counterstrike have always had followings in Korea and America respectively, Korea even having dedicated channels on TV showing the tournaments, but now Europe has jumped on the bandwagon, and it's oh so sweet.

This Sunday I had the pleasure of going to the LCS, or the League of Legends Championship Series, for the quarter finals between KT Roller and The Koo Tigers. It was held in the Wembley Arena, which has a capacity of 18,000 people, a figure not to be sniffed at.

It had everything a live sport should have; from overpriced beer, to chants and songs (of a type), with ultra-fans showing up in cosplaying outfits and regular Joe's like me wearing slightly nerdy gaming related clothing.

The Cosplayers in all their glory! Taken from the official LoL website.

So what we are really here to do is compare the two, sports and E-sports, to try and get to the bottom of what causes the disparity between the two and if we really can call a video game a sport at all.

The Similarities:

Obviously sports require teams, dedicated staff and to some degree a level of monetary sponsorship. League of legends is the prime example of this.

The teams that play on the professional scale League of Legends live together, play together, and in some circumstances even come across the globe to join other teams. Although there isn't a transfer market, these players still have to uproot their lives to find their fit – to find a team that they can work with. It's no mean feat, especially when there is a language barrier often in place for many of the players.

To really push home the idea of a team the higher teams not only live with each other but also have their own managers who, similar to traditional sports, analyse the opposition and have often been on professional teams themselves in the past, most certainly living and breathing the game itself.

One of the first big plays of the showdown.

This level of intensity most definitely illustrates how serious this business is taken. Five, albeit young, men living with each other, practicing for 8 hours a day in the run up to tournaments in essentially 'friendlies' with other teams, watching their opposition and discussing tactics with their managers and pushing themselves to the limit to get better at an ever evolving game.

One thing that definitely makes an E-sport like League of Legends particularly difficult to follow is the evolution of the game itself. The game is patched frequently with changes to champions and items. The huge impact that these changes cause means a constant evolution is taking place which creates a game that is constantly challenging. Unlike any other sport, this causes a shifting for team play and style moreover a very dedicated fan base. -- THIS SENTENCE DOESN"T MAKE SENSE

In regards to the actual live event itself, we had everything thrown at us that a normal sport would. From T shirts to plushies, overprices drinks to free crap no one really wanted, the event had it all. One of the things that stood out to me the most was the pre-game videos and content such as fan made YouTube videos that were played before the main event, which everyone laughed, cheered and screamed along to.

Free crap!

Although this is a very American style of having an event play out, all appreciated it and I think shows how e-sports can cross boundaries in a way traditional sports cannot. Our 'stiff upper lip' British attitude disappeared as thousands of fans jovially demonstrated their appreciation of the pre-game videos. This was astounding to witness in Wembley Arena which is perhaps one of the most renowned British venues.

The call and response of the chanting and singing in the stadium also supports the evidence that e-sport fans are not dissimilar to their 'traditional' counterparts. Furthermore, the light up wristbands became the team colours for the event – blue and red LED’s worn on the wrist representing which team you were supporting. Although I’m not entirely sure if any teams can simply change their strip on the fly, they were a really nice touch.

All in all, the intensity of the team play, the analytical approach of the managers, and the live game itself resembling that of an ordinary sport, suggests that we are in fact watching these video games become sports.

Differences:

Obviously it seems ridiculous to consider an event with no physical interaction as a sport and it is this which seems to me to be the biggest definitive attribute that causes e-sports to be shunned and perhaps even considered joke-worthy by those who do not grasp fully how much effort goes into the events themselves – but it is totally valid.

Without the pre-requisites of physical stamina and a better than average level of fitness, it essentially like calling Chess a sport. Check mate.

Just because an event has similarities to a sport, doesn’t make it one. Yes, we are sad to say that just because a stadium gives you a free torch on the way in, and the event management gives you blow-up-clappy-things, it doesn’t make it a sport either.

The crowd going wild.

Normal sports also have a tendency to not evolve. Generally speaking a decision in a sport that alters the state of play is a huge decision and arguably makes a sport what it is: physical entertainment that has set rules which are controlled by a referee or multiple referees; rules which are static. Instead, League of Legends in particular, shows the opposite end of this with its ever-changing rules and team that is constantly tweaking factors that have a knock on effect on the players.

A live event, or venue does not make an event any more official or sport-like. It would be unfair to suggest that a live venue makes a sport a sport when anyone with enough capital can rent a space and slap an event together with an audience. Boo!

The Result:

Clearly we have a slight issue at hand. There are strong pros and cons on either side of the argument but we are faced with an even more pressing issue: Can we even compare Traditional sports and E-Sports?

It sounds an article-redundant-making-statement, but it is a valid point without a doubt.

We have a separation of E-sports with the electronic aspect of its nature. Without the ‘E’ it would have to be considered a traditional sport, without the 'sport' it would just be guys at home playing online and wondering why they have not made thousands of pounds by just eviscerating noobs in teams.

Without structured team play, endorsement, huge amounts of financial backing from various sources and teams with playing ability beyond the majority, I would have to agree that we could never consider the likes of League of Legends, or Starcraft, or DOTA a sport.

Star Guardian Lux, taken from the official LoL website.

However, they all have this – but let us not forget our most relevant point – that little ‘E’ that separates these definitively as an electronic form of sport which comes with its own subcategory.

The best way to personally decide is always going to the event itself. I'd be lying if I said that my face did not light up like a child’s multiple times throughout due to the wonder and mysticism that surrounds live sporting events.

Get yourself to a show, soak it all up and then tell me that E-sports do not have their own little place in the sporting community.

Tune in tonight to http://www.twitch.tv/riotgames to watch semi-finals live from the comfort of your own home.

The Koo Tigers accepting their win.

The Martian - Book review

For my book this week I chose The Martian by Andy Weir.

Although the choice for this book was made by me, technically it was actually made by my girlfriend who gave me this fantastic novel for my birthday.

Due to the film version coming out this week, I wanted to make sure that for once I had read the novel before viewing the film. Obviously this is a glorious notion, but few of us manage to ever achieve this because we either did not know it was a book in the first place or we struggle to cram the reading in before the film is out.

This time I prevailed!

It most certainly was not a difficult task in terms of reading the book before the film, in fact it took me less than 2 days to devour this fantastic piece of sci-fi.

Fortunately work was quiet and so I could get away with doing nothing but reading my little heart out and so I did.

The novel has a fantastic opening - 'I'm pretty much fucked. That's my considered opinion. Fucked. Six days into what should have been the greatest two months of my life, and it's turned into a nightmare.'

Instantly causing us to wonder what occurred to leave out protagonist so out of luck,
and in this case it is of course reality.

Essentially the premise is our lead character – is trapped on the martian planet Mars after being injured and separated from his crew. Little do they know that he has actually survived and is now fending for himself with all the odds pitted against him.

The reality of the situation is managed marvellously; the sci-fi that plays out before us believable because unlike most sci-fi it is not set so far ahead in the future that technology has progressed past our current means, but only a few decades past what we know now. It's terrifyingly relatable.

Obviously being relatable is hard to achieve as a notion in sci-fi, a genre littered with characters who are so obscure or advanced that we can barely comprehend them wholly. But, The Martian handles this problem magnificently, giving us not only a human character but the type of character who we all wish we could be. Resourceful, funny and horrendously intelligent. He's an every man, but he's far from like anyone you know personally.

By becoming trapped on Mars with technology only slightly better than our own, our character has to flex his intellectual muscle throughout the book, allowing us insights into not only the harsh realities of the situations being trapped on Mars would cause, but also to how much Andy Weir has managed to cram into his own mind prior to writing this novel.

Without a doubt Weir has researched thoroughly into many of the concepts in the book, a degree in chemistry and astro-physics would hardly be surprising at this point. Because of this knowledge, or possibly advisement from others, a complex but understandable narrative is provided from our protagonist.

I would be fibbing if I said that I could comprehend every scientific utterance, but understanding the science as a reader is almost secondary despite how much work has gone into it.

But the understanding of the science is only secondary due to the plot being so relentless that we want to know what happens next, our minds searching for the next words rather than slowing ourselves down by trying to visualise complex arrangements of valves on airlocks.

This ferocious pace is hardly lacking in any section of the book. Whether it is what is occurring on Mars or back on Earth at NASA, the characters are foremost human and therefore the clashing of ideals is ever present. This keeps the blood pressure high and the stakes even higher. Nothing is ever easy when performing a rescue operation from millions of miles away.

By understanding human qualities, their psychology as well as complex science, Weir has created what every writer wishes they could – a book with style and intellect, and which fits into their genre without trying feebly to transcend it.

However, I will say that the positivity of our lead is almost nauseating in some sections, but this is for two reasons: 1. Astronauts are exactly that, positive, resourceful and horrendously intelligent – it's why they would have picked him, and 2. I feel like this book was intended to eventually be made into a film.

Even if it wasn't intended to be made into a film, it will hopefully be word for word the same when I view it on the silver screen, because it flows so well that any screen-writer would have their work cut out for them if trying to re-write it.

So, if you want a fast paced read with a loveable lead character, peril after every step, with seemingly no hope, this then is the book for you – sci-fi fan or not. In fact, if you're not a sci-fi fan, read it, because I guarantee it will convert you.

I can also guarantee we'll have a lot more kids interested in becoming botanist after the film is released.

Happy reading. 

The Holiday

After E and I had scrubbed away and cleaned the entire kitchen at our friend's wedding venue we jumped back into the car and headed for her parents' house. Once we sorted out the direction we were going we left sharpish for the 4 hour drive that awaited us.

The drive itself was actually quite pleasant, the weather was stunning, sunny and warm but not so boiling that we were being roasted in the car.

Once we eventually found the cottage it was a bit later in the day so all that was left was some exploration of the cottage itself and to head to the local town to get some dinner.

The local town Howden was quaint, but because we were so hungry we decided to leave any exploration until Saturday and jumped back into the car after a visit to the Co-op.

After waiting what felt like a decade for the gas oven to heat itself up we put out food on whilst I started a fire. I don't think there's many better feelings than sitting in front of a fire and just pondering. Nothing beats a toasty thought process.

Environmentally friendly buildings are few and far between sadly, no human product is ever 100% 'environmentally friendly', but as far as houses go, the straw bale cottage was near as damn it. We assumed that the furniture was reclaimed wood, second hand and so on, whilst the walls were actually insulated in a very old school manner, the hay that lined the walls actually visible thanks to a little window into the wall cavities.

But as intriguing as the house itself was, sleep was calling us and so we went on our merry way upstairs after some wine because the next day we were hitting my favourite city – York.

So, after a solid nights sleep, coffee was brought to me in bed be E, which was awesome, and then we prepared for a long day.

Fortunately we didn't have to look too hard for things to do over the weekend as York was hosting both an antique book fair and cider festival within a 10 minute walk of each other. What a win.

However we wandered around the city beforehand, taking in the wonderful architecture of the cathedral, (which admittedly I'd never been two on my two previous occasions visiting), and the wonderful Minster Gate book shop.

This place was amazing; 6 stories of books, old and new, ranging from the hundreds of pounds to just a few the one I assume subsidising the other. Because the modern books were cheap I decided to have a look and see if anything would tickle my fancy and something certainly did. I found a copy of Cormack McCarthy's No Country for Old Men, a novel I'd always wanted to read based on my appreciation for The Road and also hearing that the film adaptation is meant to be stunning. It set me back a whole £4, which is great for a modern book in my opinion.

E of course bought a few books, (there's no entering a book shop with her without leaving with several things).

We then had a further wander, I showed E one of my favourite music shops and then went for some more coffee to help keep ourselves perky. A slice of cake may have been consumed in the process.

We knew that the book festival hadn't started quite yet and so we went for another wander along the city walls. The clarity that the weather allowed meant that we could see as far as the buildings would allow without blocking our line of sight. It really is a pretty city, retaining the archaic aesthetic whilst being quite clearly modern in its own right. I love it there.

So after our brief walk we then headed to where the free shuttle would take us to the two festivals. A few minutes of waiting, amongst older individuals who had grown douchey in their years, and we were on the shuttle for the short ten minute journey to the Racing track, where many events are hosted such as the York Tattoo convention.

After waiting a further ten minutes behind more oldies, who couldn't comprehend leaving their bags in the mandatory cloak room, we were in and awestruck with some of the editions that we found. Admittedly, we couldn't afford to buy such editions, or rather what would the point be?

Seeing the types of people selling and buying the books slightly angered me. Once you realised that the customers weren't buying the books for the enjoyment of owning an original piece of history because it had some profound effect on their place in the universe, or some relevance to their thoughts and feelings, or even some sort of deeper connection with the writer, it took away what makes literature so wonderful. Instead the books will probably sit in their relevant bookshops and become collectors pieces that were worth a lot of money, but not much else. A sad day for literature indeed.

Although it was a good experience, I don't think if I had all the money in the world I would have dealt with 90% of the snobs who were there, because that's what they were, snobs who looked down their nose at us because we were young, having no background to us or what we could have possibly been worth. It was honestly disgusting to think some of the best minds in existence in terms of literature were now being sold by people who didn't even seem interested in the books, even willing to talk about them let alone friendly.

Never mind.

After a bit of a let down, Ellie did find a few gems that were priced well and still relatively unique and so she snapped them up.

Once we battled our way through another gruelling incident with the cloak room to get our stuff back, we set off on foot to the beer and ale, (and cider), festival.

A short wander brought us to the entrance of the rather smelly interior, but the weather was still gorgeous and so went got our first half pints and snagged a seat outside.

This was a far more intellectual festival.

After several halves, a few thirds and a winning tombola effort, it was time to stagger back into town for something to eat. This time we opted for the walk rather than bus and given that the weather was pretty still spectacular it was a good shout.

Because E has never been to Jamie's we decided to eat there. Sadly the service was shoddy, the food mediocre and the time wasted pretty annoying. We waited the best part of an hour for our food, the chefs shouting for service frequently but going unheeded for long periods of time. Frankly I'm glad that tip wasn't included because I wasn't prepared to pay for it.

Sorry world, but tipping is bullshit. Pay your staff fairly.

But it wasn't so bad, we headed home for some more wine, more fire and also a re-watch of Lord of The Rings, which neither E or I had seen in years. What a fantastic film.

Saturday was our day reserved for not doing much at all, and so we did as little as possible.

However, we're an active couple so it didn't last long at all.

After a brisk 3 mile walk into town, and a few blisters later, we sat down for some lunch in a pub that was recommended by a local as the second venue we were looking at was for 'Hobos and drunkards'.

It was a close shave, but of you can't trust a doddery old guy wearing a sailors hat, who can you trust?

The food was great, the staff were lovely and the service was excellent. Bloody Jamie's...

After we had attached plasters and grabbed dinner, we took another brisk walk home. The afternoon was lovely, spent reading and being the host to one of the rare occasions that I napped during the day. An hour was spent comatose on the sofa after reading some more of The Purple Cloud, which was followed by more food and Shrek 2, just because it's a great film and we were having our welcome lazy day.

Sadly, this was our last night on our short weekend break and we high tailed it back home early on Sunday reaching my homestead quickly to drop stuff off but then hitting traffic on the A406 which brought our trip to 7 hours in the car one we finally reached E's. Another hour and a half back out of London via train and car and I was home. A long week came to an even longer close, but what a week.

Patrick the farm cat, who rarely left our doorstep 

The Wedding!

This week has been a busy one with the marriage of my two friends Zoey and Dan along with mine and E's first holiday. 

So after a long boring day at work on Monday all pistons were pumping to get down to London. Although the journey wasn't exactly straightforward - a train ride carrying all my weeks things - it went quite quickly. 

I was soon in South East London and killing a bit of time before we ventured to Jermyn Street to pick up the food for the wedding at Wilton's. 

Now parking a car covered, and I mean covered, in bird crap outside a pricey restaurant isn't always the best way to create a mouthwatering experience for the clientele it was definitely the way we picked up the food from Wilton's where Olivia, E's sister works. Once we had our supplies we were off for the three and a half hour drive to Taunton. 

Fast forward slightly to 3am and we're finally getting into bed after a long day for all of us. We slept like logs on Vicodin. 

Fast forward again ever so slightly and we're now moving ever Southward to the wedding venue which was beautiful. 

The Oak Barn had serious charm, serious space and seriously hard working guests. We began our day feeling a tad useless as Liv set her ovens to stun and began the catering frenzy whilst E and I helped as much as we could. 

The day itself was long and the food looked amazing, the cake especially looked brilliant, the fact that it was sprung on Liv at the end of the day is unnoticeable. Plus the fact I learned that a cake can in fact be naked without being a huge edible rack which is nice. 

The wedding itself was exactly the type of wedding becoming more common and I couldn't be more glad. The service was all of 15 minutes and very personal, none of the flashiness or gaudiness that people have come to expect from modern weddings was present. 

After was the Pimm's, pics and spectacular afternoon tea, (which I even helped make). 

The Naked Cake!

Sandwiches and sweets galore made the tea even better and visually pleasing to say the least. After this was the hog roast, which in my opinion is one of two ways a pig should be eaten. 

After sufficiently stuffing my face it was time to show the South how to get their groove on, accompanied by alcohol galore. However I'm please to say that two people told my other half that I was a good dancer. So take that world. Michael Reynolds can dance and is most certainly not afraid to use it. 

After hours of dancing and eating we retreated after a brief clean up in preparation for our long drive Northward the next day. 

At the early hour of 8:30 we roused and began to clean our hearts out. I may have possibly stuffed my face with sweets as I went, but I was working hard - I needed the sugar. 

Finished by 10 we got what food we could carry in the car along with all of our stuff and we made out way back to Taunton and then Northward...

The Chef and I

If you need any catering done for an event, consider the one and only Olivia Baggley - winner of the Craft Guild of Chefs award, details below. 

I'll be back tomorrow with a post all about our first holiday!