t is Saturday. Rob is sleeping quite peacefully beside me. Shall I get up or disturb him? There's no school, of course, but I decide to get up for quite another reason. We have a number of people coming round for dinner, there is a lot to do and I haven't even finished preparing the menu yet.

Derek, as usual, is already up and has lit the wood burner. Not that it's that cold but we need the hot water anyway. Surprisingly, Becky is the next one up dressed, or very nearly dressed, in her party frock.
"Oh, darling, that's for this afternoon. Look, put some jeans on and I'll make you some toast, then we we can go mushrooming for breakfast."
Suzie comes down, forgoes toast and promptly disappears with Derek to attend the animals up at the other field. Becky, armed with a wicker basket, and I make our way up to top of the home field. Mushrooms have been late this year and we have about a kilogram when we find a horse mushroom, it will fill one of the frying pans and is about 2cm thick. We don't get these very often and I consider this an aupicious omen for what I hope will be an auspicious day.

After breakfast proper, and time is getting on, I have to make some serious decisions as to what I shall wear. And what Rob should wear too. I decide to wear a black skirt and almost matching jacket with a white blouse. Persuade Rob not to wear Jeans but put his 'new client' suit on with a white shirt and no tie. I dislike ties, useless ugly strips of material. Why anybody thinks they look smart has always been a mystery to me. Now, make up or no make up? No, I want to look myself, I'm not out to impress anybody. Both ready, we are a little early, which is a good excuse to settle nerves by downing a quick couple of glasses of wine. Then we set off, waving to all, in good time to pick up my Da and Rob's friend Colin on the way, who are to be witnesses.

Arriving with only a couple of minutes to spare, owing to Colin who wasn't ready, we are ushered into the room and wait for the registrar. Presumably he has given us up and gone for a cup of tea. He finally appears, a short, fat, balding man with an officious air and thick-rimmed spectacles.
"Is this you all?" he says disdainfully. Perhaps we should have brought all the children. They would be running about screaming and bashing each other by now, I'll bet that would have cheered him up a bit.

Having sorted out which one of the three men present I wish to marry, we take our seats in the front row, whilst the registrar gives us a lecture on the sanctity of marriage. We've been living together for five years, for goodness' sake, but I suppose he doesn't know that. My mind wanders, I still haven't decided what to have for an entrée tonight. Am brought back to the matter in hand by having to stand up for the question and answer thingy. Then Colin produces our bright blue plastic ring bought especially for the occasion, no Christmas cracker stuff for me. Then we have to publicly kiss and each of us sign the registry in the allotted places and ushered out into a waiting room whilst a copy of the register is prepared. After all, that is why we paid and endured the whole farcical procedure.

On leaving the characterless building I look for a rubbish bin and discard plastic ring. Rob offered to buy me a gold band, but I said I had no intention of ever wearing such a symbol of ownership and I thought it a complete waste of money. I can't wait to get home and have some lunch.

The bread that Eileen has been baking this morning is still warm and we broach that with butter, strong farmhouse cheddar and our own pickled onions accompanied with some reasonable dry white wine. After we are replete Rob, Colin, Da and Derek decide to 'go for a walk'. This is a euphemism for walking up to the pub. Oh, bloody fine. Leave the women to wash up, look after the children and prepare dinner. After they have gone I volunteer to do the clearing up, Cay and Eileen take the children upstairs, but Suzie stays behind. She has something on her mind.
"Is Rob my real da now?"
"Darling, he's always been your real da." A pause.
"But when I was little I didn't have a da, did I?" I am a little taken aback. She was barely three when we moved here and she's never mentioned it before.
"Well Rob wanted to be your da and live with us. He's always been your da since then." Another, longer, pause. I'm almost sure I can hear her mind working.
"I love da."
"So do I darling, aren't we lucky." And we hug each other before she trots off to join the others. Suzie is not stupid, we live on a small farm after all, but I don't believe in answering questions before they are asked. When she wants to know more she will.

After tidying up the kitchen and checking the dinner progress, I join the others. We spend some time with the children, who are excited, the younger ones being not quite sure why. The men return, they haven't been so long as I feared they might, and promptly settle in music room with hi-fi at fairly high volume. Cay and I deliver the children to them. Music volume increases.

Well, life goes on and somebody has to deal with the animals. Cay takes Suzie with her up to the other field, whilst Eileen vounteers to put the chickens and ducks away. I take the opportunity to sneak away to my office for a bit of peace and quiet. Am there until Eileen interupts me to tell me she has fed the younger children, something I had meant to do myself. Suzie and Becky are allowed to stay up tonight as long as they don't fall asleep.

Return to Kitchen and help Eileen, running upstairs to greet guests as they arrive, as it seems that nobody on the ground floor can get off their bottoms. Male guests join others in music room, female guests clatter downstairs and clutter up kitchen offering to help, but mostly getting in the way. About time the younger children were in bed. Cay and I take them up, a little under protest, but they are tired. I point out that most of the guests will be staying and they can all go and jump on them in the morning.

Eventually have dinner. This is a long affair with five courses, followed by cheese and biscuits, with gaps between the courses for conversation and last minute preparation. And pressy opening! We have presents to open. Now I know what one of them is. One of our friends is a painter (Easel, not Tressle)and he borrowed a photograph of Rob to copy in oils. What I hadn't realised, and it seems so obvious now, he had also borrowed a photo of me from Rob. I am quite overcome. Ah! Secrets and lies, where would we be without them? Much wine consumed. Da has started to call Rob 'son', which he imagines is hilarious (they've known each other for years). After dinner the men retire back to the music room. Ladies start clearing kitchen. I am not allowed to do anything so join the men.

Kitchen workers start to appear and disperse themselves variously about the room. Suzie and Becky have done well but they are struggling, so I think it best to trot them up to their bedrooms. Having put them to rights and sorted out the temporary 'dormitory'on the top floor, mattresses pillows and duvets duly arranged for guests before returning to be sociable again. After about an hour Suzie appears at the door, not unusually stark naked. She does have a dressing gown, but seldom uses it. Wrap her up in a blanket and put her on Rob's lap. Eileen hasn't made an appearance, so I pop down to the kitchen, where she is still pottering.

Cay is also there, feeding her baby, Roisin. There is still a half-full magnum on the side (I have an eye for spotting these things), so I suggest we all have a glass after which Eileen has had enough of the day and is going to bed. Cay takes her baby upstairs and doesn't return. I retreat back to my office, closely grasping the rest of the vintage.

Suddenly realising that Suzie is still not in bed, go to fetch her. The music room is draped with people sleeping on furniture and floor to Pink Floyd on 'continuous play'. I hope at least some of them eventually find their way to the beds I have bothered to make up for them. Pick my way over bodies and get Suzie, who is asleep on Rob's lap. Stagger upstairs with her and put her in bed. For a skinny little thing she ain't half getting heavy.

Go to bed. There's always the morning. Now I'm married I will have to get used to more arguments and less sex. Fall asleep with a vague smile on my lips..