Venice Lagoon and 25 Year-Old Malt Whisky: Will Nobody Marry Me?

This week's post is sponsored by Lemsip and those funny hankies that are meant to be softer than normal. 

I don't believe in brand names, tbh, but these were purchased in a Co-Op in Aberfeldy, which doesn't have the luxury of enough space to stock more than one of each thing.

Today I have been in bed, sniffling, sneezing and generally feeling snotty and sorry for myself. This is because I do too much and don't eat enough vegetables. I should really know better.
The sum total of achievements I have managed today is (1) putting the dishwasher on, (2) putting the washing machine on, and (3) making the journey from bed to sofa.

What doesn't kill you...

Disclaimer: The remainder of this post is a small rant about weddings, and how I'd quite like to have one. Just one. Normal non-wedding-related service will be resumed next week. For sanity's sake this will be interspersed with photos from the weekend.

On Saturday we spent a while in a coffee shop in Aberfeldy, flicking through whatever magazines they had  in their magazine rack, looking for possible colour combinations we might like. Because that's a lot easier than actually planning anything.

So, option 1, blue and orange?

So here's the thing. 

You go and get engaged, and I think in most cases that's a big flaming surprise for one of you, less so for the other. In my case, I was the one that was pounced upon, far too early in the morning, after not enough sleep, with a life-changing question and a breakfast of sugar and alcohol. Holy cow, I think she means it. Everybody say yes and drinks a lot of fizz in a short time. Yay Woop.

It all takes a bit of getting used to. And then there's the telling people, and the resulting excitement and disappointment that this particular news was met with. The balance tipped way, way in favour of the bouncing excited Squee-ing and genuine congratulations, it should be said. 

And then that takes a bit of getting used to. 

But sooner or later it dawns on you: there will eventually have to be a wedding, and we will have to organise it. L and I have only been allowed to marry each other in proper legal terms for less than a year. It's pretty awesome that we can, but it means that for a while I've never really thought about what my wedding would look like. Now we get to play catch-up on all of the imagining. 

So what do we want?

• To wind up married in the boring official sense. 
• To wind up married in the Yay Jesus sense. Y'know, someone in a dog-collar and some stonkin' old school hymns. 
• All of our friends to be there
• And for them to have a good time and for it not to be stressful or expensive for them.
• Good food and plenty of it. Also wine and cake. 
• Music and dancing and general conviviality. 

Simples. Err, well no actually.

Unrelated pheasant is unrelated. Probably dead by now actually, if its tendency to hang out in the road is anything to go by.

If we were a straight couple we'd phone the Minister, pick a date, and send the council a form and a small sum of money. Then you both show up, say yes and it's all sorted. One stop shop. 

Except our Minister can't do that. We can show every Sunday (well ok, most Sundays, it's been a busy summer), and be welcomed as an ordinary part of the congregation. We can listen and sing and do the readings and be on committees we don't understand and take communion and put money in the strange CofS velvet-bag-on-a-stick thing, and generally just get on with being part of the congregation. We stick out more for lowering the average age than we do for both being girls. The week we got engaged we couldn't leave our seats for post-service congratulations and came away home with a whacking great big bunch of flowers. This Church, its congregation and Minister are a million miles better than some other places that I could, but won't, mention. But the Church of Scotland can't get it's act together and let him be a proper Minister to us.

Isn't she lovely?

So what else is there? The University Chapel, well we could get married there; Aberdeen is one of only two Scottish University Chapels that are available for same-sex weddings*; but we'd still need to find a Minister, neither of the University Chaplains would touch us, and it would still cost a bomb.

Other denominations, limited success there too. Yeah, make that no success. The Episcopal Church look to be doing their best, and are at least thinking about it, but the very quickest they could marry us will be in a few year's time, and frankly, we ain't that patient. 

We're not Quakers or Unitarians, which is unfortunate, because they might actually have been able to treat us like normal people and marry us.

All of the people who could marry us in a Church, well, they either can't or won't. 

And a Registrar, well they can marry you anywhere you like, except a in Church. 

Beautiful.

So here we are, in 2015 stuck in a place where marriage is not yet equal. Churches actively withholding the blessing of God from a whole swathe of Christian couples who really want to get married, in the sight of God, just like anyone else. 

This is getting a bit heavy-going. Here's a nice picture of a tent in a field beneath some blue sky. 

Humph. We'll work something out. If wouldn't be the end of the world if we had to have a small ceremony at the Town House or somewhere similar before wandering off somewhere else. What it would be is more faff and more expense, which would be being forced upon us where other couples would have more choices and better options. 

I know I should be grateful that we can now actually get married, and perhaps one could argue that hey, it's legal now, shut up and stop making a fuss. Doesn't quite sit right though, and I think it comes down to this:

I should be able to take Equal Marriage for granted. It should be normal. 

Just because it's new and shiny doesn't mean it shouldn't have happened a long time ago. I shouldn't have to be thankful and grateful that the State has taken pity on me and finally let me have what many people have had all along. I shouldn't have to settle for vastly limited options from the Church. It shouldn't have to be an awkward question. A Minister should be allowed to marry me if they want to!

As for me, I'm off to have one last Lemsip and put myself to bed. Till next week!

*Well done Aberdeen, well done St Andrews. Everyone else, c'mon, please.