Eesh, one's wedding day. It's the gift that keeps on giving.
On Friday night, we went to a friend's for tea. And a sumptuous tea it was. We popped out into Leeds for a wander afterwards in parkas and proper sensible shoes - it's winter now, man - because it was LIGHT NIGHT. Ah, Light Night.
Basically, the museums are open late. One can wander into the City Museum and draw/write something on a postcard. Hand your postcard to a curator. Curator staples it to a washing line. BADABING - you're an artist.
Cue lots of pseudo-political whinging and bullshit from students. "Love my country - hate my Government." Deep, man. Ah me, I'm finally at the age where I curse the presence of students. They drive up house prices in the area - and speaking of driving, they drive bloody everywhere and clog up the roads like nobody's business. Since when did a student have the money to run a Mini Cooper S?
And the Town Hall was open late, too. So we went in, attracted by the promise of Victorian Cells. Oo, Victorian Cells, I thought. Spooky!
Except they were full of crafts. Like stuffed foxes made out of felt. And fairy lights. And hand-stitched mushrooms. Bit incongruous with the spirits of those poor souls sentenced to death in there. It was all a little bit odd.
Anyhoo. That wasn't the reason I brought this up. So we went for tea and received a Very Exciting Parcel. A belated wedding present.
And this is what lay beneath the pretty paper.
On Friday night, we went to a friend's for tea. And a sumptuous tea it was. We popped out into Leeds for a wander afterwards in parkas and proper sensible shoes - it's winter now, man - because it was LIGHT NIGHT. Ah, Light Night.
**my links are being grumpy for some reason**
Basically, the museums are open late. One can wander into the City Museum and draw/write something on a postcard. Hand your postcard to a curator. Curator staples it to a washing line. BADABING - you're an artist.
Cue lots of pseudo-political whinging and bullshit from students. "Love my country - hate my Government." Deep, man. Ah me, I'm finally at the age where I curse the presence of students. They drive up house prices in the area - and speaking of driving, they drive bloody everywhere and clog up the roads like nobody's business. Since when did a student have the money to run a Mini Cooper S?
And the Town Hall was open late, too. So we went in, attracted by the promise of Victorian Cells. Oo, Victorian Cells, I thought. Spooky!
Except they were full of crafts. Like stuffed foxes made out of felt. And fairy lights. And hand-stitched mushrooms. Bit incongruous with the spirits of those poor souls sentenced to death in there. It was all a little bit odd.
Anyhoo. That wasn't the reason I brought this up. So we went for tea and received a Very Exciting Parcel. A belated wedding present.
And this is what lay beneath the pretty paper.
Oh my word. It's a WW2 child's evacuation case.
With a lovely blanket.
I am speechless.
Once again, the cleverness and originality of our friends astounds me.
So there you go, folks. Stuck for an original wedding present? Get them a retro picnic set. They'll love you forever.*
*guaranteed
Argh, we queued for the Craft Garden in the cells and got so fed up we left before we saw anything. I thought Light Night was much better last year, but we were being impatient this year, I think. The knitted piano in Trinity Church was pretty fun.
ReplyDeleteJEALOUS of your wartime picnic set. Stealing the idea. Lashings and lashings of ginger beer!
Px