Conjugally matrimonified ...

... but not, as Gilbert & Sullivan would have had it, parsonified by a doctor of divinity who is located in this vicinity. No, it shall be a representative of the Crown that declares us able to indulge in the felicity of unbounded domesticity, in a little over 24 hours, at the Guildhall, followed by God’s stamp of approval at church. A certificate from the Queen followed by a thumbs-up from the creator deity: an interesting order of precedence but there you are.

It would be nice to think it’s all over bar the marriage bit. Yesterday I carelessly started on a list of final things to do today, writing on an A5 sheet. It is now a very cramped A5 sheet that needs transcribing to an A4. But apart from all that ...

This will probably be the last blog entry for a day or two so I thought I would share some thoughts on the topic of marriage.

It’s said to be on the rocks; marriage failure figures are frightening, though it’s never the same figure twice when I look. (Our photographer innocently referred to this as the wedding of Ben versus ... rather than Ben and ... Fortunately we don’t believe in omens.) Even if you factor out the marriages that were doomed from the start and should never have been entered into in the first place – shotgun marriages, knocked up teenagers, students, or just people who are so hopelessly romantic they don’t have a clue – I suspect the figures are still pretty high.

Some people don’t marry because they don’t believe in it, or can’t see the point of a piece of paper legalising the perfectly good relationship they have already. That’s their privilege and I won’t argue ... if they’re an adult with some life experience to back it up. (If on the other hand they’re a cynical teenager, especially one whose parents themselves are happily married – grow up, kid. I know you just want the fun of an adult relationship without the responsibility. Ain’t gonna happen.)

Some have been badly scorched by the whole experience, either to themselves or to someone close by. I thank the good Lord I haven't been, and I don’t have the right to lecture those who have.

And some people believe in it too strongly. This the weird bit. Marriage isn’t running down, as popular perception would have it. On the contrary, it has become elevated to ridiculous heights. This can have two outcomes. You can have a Victorian society where being married is so much the be-all and end-all that it excuses all kinds of hypocrisies and wrong doings behind the scenes. Or, you can have the present situation: “I just want it to be perfect.” Marriage is meant to mark the final perfection of a relationship, so people wait until they have that perfection ...

... and wait ...

... and wait ...

... probably don't find it with present partner, so ditch him/her for someone else ...

... and wait ...

So, you might fairly ask what we want ourselves. Well, Best Beloved is my closest friend, first and foremost – we wouldn’t be anywhere without that. She is something and someone to celebrate. She is worth the best I can give, and to me that means marriage – a defining moment at which we can say we began our lives together. And if I can be tediously religious for a moment, there’s no doubt in my mind that our relationship is a gift to us both from God – pure grace and generosity on his part, not deserved in the slightest on ours. Gifts from God are handled properly.

A couple I knew distantly had been cohabiting for years and then had a two year engagement. They couldn’t marry the year they got engaged because they’d already had their holiday, they couldn’t marry the next year because a big family holiday was already booked ... so they married the year after, and in the meantime just carried on as normal. Why couldn’t they just pop down to the registry office and do it there?

Because of course they wanted the show. Great Aunt Bertha had to be air lifted in from New Zealand. The bride had to glide down the aisle like a meringue Dalek while a small child had to be vat-bred to sprinkle rose petals in front of her. The couple had to be waved off by tearful relatives in a fairy tale coach pulled by white shire horses, and five generations of family and friends had to be treated to a sumptuous wedding feast of roast swan and truffles and a chocolate fountain while the Rolling Stones provided the music for the dance afterwards. Memories to last a lifetime, along with the loan repayments.

Well, yes, we too want to celebrate. Two lives are entwining; the wedding is the point at which they come together. Otherwise, our only anniversary would be furniture-moving-in day a couple of weeks ago, the hottest of the year at that point, which I’m more than ready to forget. Yes, thank you, I know the figures I mentioned earlier. You actually have a better chance of a happy marriage than of getting your first book published, and I managed that okay.

We decided in December that we wanted to marry and so we are. We’ve had a seven month engagement: most of that has been about getting the flat into decent order to have somewhere to live, and even our determinedly discount offer redecorating has probably cost more than the wedding. I will admit it does help being members of a church community, with many hero friends quietly helping out here and doing favours there. But we have the wedding we want – just the simple bringing together of two lives, surrounded by valued friends to witness the event, with not a shire horse or Dalek in sight, and the only meringue is in the pavlova. Honestly, what fool would want more?