A right royal creation
As you read this, there is a slight chance you may be just getting over the 'wedding mania' that has been sweeping the country, nay parts of the world that somehow wants to know about our events or at least two individuals who have recently got wedded and to each other as well.
Before you wonder, of course I refer to Wayne and Mavis, who recently tied the knot, as they look forward to many happy years.
Only kidding - unless you are a cave dweller, the past few months have had this country all hyped up about the latest Royal marriage to fill that gap news-wise as there is a shortage of 'exclusives' on football players, celebrity (?!) chefs/ bakers, budding flamenco dancers and the usual stuff that transfixes us for day/weeks or until the next one either happens or is created as it can be dull out there in medialand, bless.
It has been good news of sorts as the Orient has been on overtime churning out, sorry, creating, exotic celebratory baubles such as china (other countries are available) mugs, cups, plates, fondue sets, 'His & Hers' personalised sink plungers, after shave and body wash (now available in the handy, economical five-litre container with free stirrup pump to get into those little, uncharted body crevices you didn't know you had) plus the various shipping lanes have been chock-a-block with ships/landing craft coming and unloading around the clock (and dock) in order to get their artefacts in the shops and petrol filling stations in readiness for that all important 'big sell'.
Like this event, there are large sports events that seem only to be there so that supermarkets can shift crates of assorted beers, plonk or B-B-Q stuff by the pallet load, so that folk can sit in front of the flat screen wonder to enjoy these sports, usually football, with occasional advice shouted at the screen to the referee, who can't hear of course, about his sight or apparent lack of it mostly in their collective expert opinion - names of assorted opticians are also quoted.
However, the televised wedding of somebody of prominence only crops up now and again, so perhaps we are out of training at getting all excited about them, unless you are invited to them of course, but being invited can be a double-edged sword, as on the one side you are/could be delighted to be invited and on the other, you try to work out just who have you upset that much that would want to include you in it?
Such gatherings, I am lead to believe, give a valid reason for wearing a silly hat based on a sombrero design that has a trendy designer name nailed to it that cost mega bucks that will never see the light of day ever again or until either a house move happens or the local charity shop is begging for stock but while all this if fine, its even worse for the ladies as they wear hats as well.
Possibly enjoying a wedding in front of a telly screen is perhaps the best way as while it lacks that certain atmosphere, it's a sight cheaper.
You don't have to hire any clobber (clothing even) to go along in, no worries about being picked up on time, any thought of the flowers or buttonholes already started to wilt or the messing about once in the church/cathedral/community centre (bingo starts at 8pm) about getting a 'good seat near to the couple' as you want to hear the vows being read and the slight hesitation about one or two of 'em from the bridegroom as the footy is on the telly later on, thus agrees rather than waste time by asking about anything tricky in the 'small print' he should know about - it's those real priorities really that matter.
Back to the recent royal wedding then.
I must confess all this sort of stuff is lost on me, as I prefer to be doing something tangible (posh word meaning material, concrete etc depending on how good your dictionary is) at such times; when Chas and Di got hitched some years ago, I made/constructed a boat/whatchamacallit from three reject fibreglass baths, bunged an outboard motor on it then with the kids, went on the river in it - remind me to bore you about that another time, another page about the repercussions that caused, oh yes.
So 'tangible' then - I had been looking around for a 'Jack & Jill' seat, the two chairs with a shelf/table top between them type if you didn't know what they were called, but apart from being expensive, to be honest, the ones I have looked at have either been too expensive or the quality or lack of it, was the off-putting part to my mind.
I had access to a dismantled metal fire escape in bits that I had been given some time ago, so why not make a metal one that will last (hopefully) longer than some of the brought wooden models I have seen in my travels, so with a bit of time to kill from the impending day-long saturation wedding malarkey on the telly, I got the saw and the welding kit out.
In fairness, I had started a little while beforehand when the wedding plans had been announced, plus being momentarily short of reject glass fibre baths, why not start on making, nay constructing, a 'Jack & Jill' seat from the aforementioned discarded fire escape as it was a mixture of assorted sized square metal tubing/box section as this is what I call recycling, not the 'Blue Peter' sort of '37 things (ornaments) to make from a discarded egg box' as this would be something to sit on and use, not just look at and dust.
The initial start was encouraging, as while I was laying the initial framework out, our postman made comment he did not 'think it would fly' - I agreed otherwise I had to consider filling it with concrete, in case he knew something about the strong winds we get these days that I didn't - can't be too careful.
So came the final day, Saturday May 19, 2018.
I finally attached the varnished, shaped wooden slats (in reality from a discarded wooden crate that a machine came in) to the framework and the sun was the fitting end to it all.
I have made a central support that holds the parasol, as won some years ago when I was doing a pub promotion event, that is adjustable as it extends outwards, so as the sun moves and it do, as sundials prove this minor point, I can adjust it so that the brolly moves in or out centrally and not have to move the seat or as a passing meerkat might say, 'simples'.
Before you all rush or wish/desire to order one, I have made just the one and that is enough (can't get the fire escapes, amigos) but while other folk have possibly have a pile of empty confetti boxes to remind them of the great wedding day, I have a seat to show for my endeavours but..
...where did I leave those reject fibreglass baths?
PS: the postman likes it