On Saturday 19th September, Karen and I were blessed to gain a beautiful daughter-in-law when Ellie married Barry in an enchanting woodland setting.
The whole day was simply wonderful, and I need to be careful here not to use up my entire supply of superlatives in the opening paragraph. It was a day full of joy, tears and laughter and, as parents, we were both bursting with pride.
The wedding had been almost two years in the making, ever since Barry proposed to Ellie in New York at the 91st Street Garden – as avid readers of this blog will, of course, remember from September 2024. Or they can pretend they do.
From the outset, Barry and Ellie were determined that they wanted a small, intimate wedding surrounded by their closest family and friends. They set about finding somewhere that would allow them to create exactly the day they wanted while, importantly, remaining somewhere within their budget.
They found it at the aptly named Hubbards Farm in South Creake.
We first visited the venue about 12 months ago with Karolyn and Steed, Ellie’s charming parents. It would probably be fair to say that, initially, the four parents didn’t quite see what Ellie saw.
She looked at what was essentially a blank canvas and could already picture exactly what it could become. We had, however, learned by then to trust Ellie’s considerable creative talents.
And boy, did she deliver.
Both mums threw themselves into helping turn Ellie’s ideas into reality, although they were wise enough to seek approval before making any purchases or deviating from the master plan. They had clearly worked out who was actually in charge.
Ellie hand-painted the invitations and created the Save the Date cards, which were sent out in good time. I may occasionally have referred to the invitations as Wonka Tickets, as they were deliberately rare. Quite correctly, Karen and I had absolutely no involvement in deciding who received one.
My own contribution during the months leading up to the wedding was somewhat less impressive. It largely consisted of vetoing some of Karen’s ideas before she presented them to Ellie, thinking about lighting for the outside areas and trying to work out whether we could get the day filmed without requiring a second mortgage.
I did become involved in choosing and fitting the hire suits for the groom, best man and myself at Moss Bros. At one stage it looked worryingly as though we might actually have to choose them ourselves, but thankfully Ellie arrived and restored order.
Karen loved the fact that Ellie went with her to choose her Mother of the Groom outfit. Apparently, that was chosen remarkably quickly as well.
I was told not even to ask how much it cost.
As the day approached and the various stag and hen celebrations took place, everything remained remarkably calm. Barry and Ellie simply worked their way through their carefully prepared schedule.
There were only a couple of minor issues during the final week, although there was one thing none of us could control.
The weather.
With the ceremony due to take place outside in the woods, everyone suddenly became an amateur meteorologist, consulting a ridiculous number of weather apps and choosing to believe whichever one happened to give the best (or worst) forecast for Saturday.
The legal wedding
Because Hubbard’s Farm isn’t licensed for legal wedding ceremonies, Barry and Ellie actually got married on Monday 14th September at the Norfolk Archive Centre at County Hall.
We had all agreed to make an effort with our attire but, to be truthful, none of us was expecting too much from the occasion.
We were wrong.
It turned into a genuinely lovely day.
Karolyn and Karen went into the ceremony room as witnesses while the legal formalities were completed. Steed and I waited in reception with Ellie’s Nanny, although sadly Grandad was poorly and unable to join us.
Afterwards we took some photographs outside before all driving, in our smart wedding finery, to Norcott’s for a coffee in the sunshine.
We attracted a fair bit of attention, and several complete strangers came over to congratulate the bride and groom.
Eventually it was time to head to The Wildebeest, where we had booked a table to celebrate properly. We had a lovely meal, the staff were exemplary and Barry and Ellie were even presented with a complimentary special dessert.
What we’d expected to be little more than a legal necessity had turned into a very special first part of their wedding celebrations.
All too soon, Friday arrived.
Set-up day.
Karen and I arrived at about 11am in separate cars, both packed with everything we needed. Karolyn and Steed had gone one better and hired a van, which was rammed to the roof with an extraordinary quantity of flowers, foliage and assorted wedding paraphernalia.
Then everyone got to work.
The challenge was to transform the picture Ellie had carried around in her head for the previous year into reality.
Even I was entrusted with something important.
Folding the napkins.
I like to think I rose magnificently to the occasion.
Slowly, the empty barn was transformed into a beautiful woodland, almost troll-like setting. What had been difficult for us to imagine when we’d first visited a year earlier was suddenly there in front of us.
And it looked amazing.
Barry and I set up the Woodland Circle lights, got them working and sorted out the outside games. The heaviest job involved putting out all the pallets for the drink’s reception.
A special mention must go to Sammie, the Maid of Honour, who seemingly didn’t stop for breath all day and fearlessly climbed ladders while the rest of us looked on in awe.
Later we carried on through some light rain, all trying not to contemplate what that might mean or might not for the following day.
It was dark before we were finally ready for a rehearsal at the Woodland Circle. Poor Peanut, who had the extremely important job of ring bearer, was so cold and tired that he had to be wrapped in a blanket, so Rocky stepped in to play his part for the rehearsal.
We finally all retired to the Honeymoon Suite, where Ellie was spending the night, and tucked into a ‘picky’ buffet supplied by Karen and Karolyn.
We got home at 9.45pm.
We were shattered.
And in a few hours, we would be doing it all again.
The wedding day
Our wedding morning began in suitably glamorous fashion.
Karen cooked bacon.
I was then dispatched to collect Karen and Neil’s buttonholes. When I returned, we discovered they were both wrong.
A quick telephone call later and replacements were promised ready for collection later on the way to the venue.
I put on my rather snazzy suit and left at 9.30am to collect Barry.
He was ready and remarkably relaxed. The journey back was uneventful apart from an incident involving a wasp, which bizarrely resulted in some mints being thrown from the car.
Then the radio decided to play:
“Stop the Wedding.”
Barry cracked up.
You really couldn’t make the timing up.
Neil was waiting for us at home, along with Karen, now fully dressed and looking a million dollars in her dress and hat.
Sharon and Iain kindly popped round to take some photographs before we left for Hubbards Farm at about 10.30am.
Barry remained remarkably calm. Excited, certainly, but not nervous.
I suspect his father was probably feeling more emotional than he was.
Hubbard’s Farm was strangely quiet when we arrived. Everyone was busy getting ready or adding the final touches, including putting out the flowers that couldn’t have been left overnight because apparently the local deer would have regarded them as an extremely expensive breakfast.
After locating the correct buttonholes, I took Neil, who was one of the ushers, down to the Woodland Circle so he knew where to direct everyone.
We switched on the lights and set up the speakers. I spoke to the celebrant while the guitarist, organised by Ellie’s Grandad, began playing in the background.
Then the guests started arriving.
Soon everyone was seated beneath the trees.
After all those months of planning, lists, flowers, lights, suits, weather forecasts, Wonka Tickets and folded napkins, there was suddenly nothing more any of us needed to do.
We could simply enjoy it.
And then Ellie appeared.
She walked through the woods on the arm of a very emotional and very proud Dad.
She looked absolutely stunning.
There are certain moments as a parent when you become acutely aware of time passing. It didn’t seem that long ago that Barry was our little boy and now Karen and I were sitting together watching him waiting for the woman he loved to walk towards him.
Looking at the two of them, surrounded by the people who mattered most to them, I think we both realised just how fortunate we were.
The story of their relationship was beautifully told by Alex, the celebrant. Ruth gave a reading before Peanut finally got his moment of glory, walking down the aisle as ring bearer to his own specially chosen music.
Barry and Ellie had written their vows independently of one another.
They were personal, sincere and unmistakably them.
There was laughter.
There were tears.
And I suspect there were a few people pretending they had something in their eye.
Then, after almost two years of planning, Barry and Ellie were married.
They walked back down the aisle together before waiting for the rest of us to line up for the traditional confetti throwing.
It was one of those moments you wish you could bottle.
The celebrations begin
We moved on to the drink’s reception and canapés in one of the fields, helped enormously by the beautiful weather we’d all spent the previous week obsessively checking.
The photographer began taking a few formal photographs but captured more informal, candid ones.
Everyone mingled, chatted and laughed. The garden games got underway, accompanied by the frequent crash of giant Jenga collapsing.
Then it was time for the wedding breakfast.
Once everybody was seated, the new Mr and Mrs Clare made their entrance to the music from Soarin’.
There was a genuine buzz in the room.
The charcuterie boards were delicious, as were the three-item desserts.
Before the speeches, Barry and I marked the Scandinavian quiz that had been left at everyone’s place setting. The winners received large trolls, while the loser on each table was presented with a box of pegs and instructed to attach them to unsuspecting guests.
I ended up with more pegs attached to my jacket than you would normally find on a washing line.
Then came the speeches.
Steed, as Father of the Bride, understandably struggled at times to get his words out as he spoke about Karolyn and Ellie. He was also incredibly generous in what he said about Barry and the rest of us.
There certainly weren’t many dry eyes around the top table.
Barry followed and, in his usual eloquent way, thanked everyone before describing how lucky he felt that he would now get to spend every day with Ellie for the rest of his life.
That got us all going again.
Then Jonathan, as Best Man, restored the emotional balance by revealing some of the less salubrious stories he could have told about Barry.
But beneath the humour it was obvious how genuinely happy he was that his friend had found the one.
One final toast was raised to the happy couple.
The formalities were over.
It was time for the party.
The tables were cleared as everyone drifted outside into the warm early-evening air.
Barry and Ellie had carefully curated the background music and I was particularly impressed to discover that it included that all-time underrated classic:
Remember You’re a Womble.
Clearly, marriage had already got off to an excellent start.
The evening guests began arriving and soon there were conversations taking place everywhere.
I did my best to fulfil my traditional role as the embarrassing Father of the Groom by introducing myself to virtually everybody I didn’t recognise.
The bar opened.
The DJ started.
And before long, lots of us were throwing shapes on the dance floor.
Almost everyone made it onto the floor at some point during the evening.
At one stage I bought Karen a spicy margarita.
This was not one of my better decisions.
I’m still not entirely sure whether it was the extra alcohol or the spiciness that caused the problem.
Possibly both.
The cake was cut before Barry and Ellie took to the floor for their first dance to Emmylou by First Aid Project.
A little later came the Father and Daughter dance.
ABBA proved particularly popular – especially with Karolyn, whose enthusiasm for them may possibly have been mentioned before.
Eventually, the perfect day began drawing to a close, with the younger guests dancing enthusiastically to some extremely loud guitar-based songs by artists I’d never heard of.
I didn’t know the songs.
But standing there watching them all enjoying themselves, it really didn’t matter.
After almost two years of planning and preparation, suddenly it was over.
We had booked rooms at the nearby Ostrich pub. I managed to cadge Karen a lift, saving her the half mile walk down an unlit single-track road that Neil, Kevin and I still had to negotiate.
The rooms were a tad expensive but very nice, as was breakfast the following morning.
And then reality returned.
By 8.45am we were back at Hubbard’s Farm to dismantle everything we’d so carefully put together.
Fortunately, taking a wedding apart is considerably quicker than building one.
Neil and I worked up quite a sweat moving all the pallets and straw bales back.
Just after 11am we left for Carrow Road, the match having conveniently been moved so we could attend. Barry also managed to make it as well before heading off on honeymoon.
We put more effort into getting there than the players subsequently put in on the pitch.
Some things never change.
And that was the wedding that was.
Except, of course, it was much more than simply a wedding.
It was one of those rare days when almost everyone you care about is gathered together in the same place, for the happiest of reasons.
Karen and I started the day with two sons.
We ended it with two sons and a daughter in law.
Although, truthfully, Ellie had felt part of our family for a very long time already. The wedding simply made it official.
And with Ellie comes her family – Karolyn, Steed and all those people who are so important to her. One of the loveliest things about the whole weekend was watching two families and two groups of friends come together so naturally to celebrate two people they love.
Most of all, though, the day reminded Karen and me just how incredibly proud we are of our boys.
Watching Barry standing beneath those trees waiting for Ellie, and later seeing the two of them surrounded by their family and friends, was one of those moments as parents that we will carry with us for the rest of our lives.
Children grow up.
They build lives of their own.
And if you’re very lucky, somewhere along the way somebody wonderful comes into their life and becomes part of yours too.
We feel very lucky indeed.
So thank you to everyone from both families, and to all of Barry and Ellie’s friends, who worked, helped, travelled, laughed, cried, danced and celebrated with us.
You all helped make a special day even more special.
But most of all, thank you to Barry and Ellie for allowing us to share it with you.
We couldn’t be prouder of you both.
And to our new daughter-in-law:
Welcome to the family, Ellie.
Although, as I said at the beginning, you’ve really already been part of it for years.
