On Saturday two friends — one of whom teaches at the University of Wolverhampton, and one of whom did an MA in Ceramics there — got married. My partner and I were asked to ‘do the flowers’. So we got up at 5am and went to Birmingham Wholesale Markets to get them. I had a slight fantasy that this might be reminiscent of visiting Bangkok’s amazing markets, which I did last summer … not quite, but it was still an experience. If you are in the Birmingham region, and are in need of a lot of flowers, it’s the place to go. Our reward for getting up at practically before dawn on a Saturday was to decide that we’d have a cooked breakfast at one of the ‘caffs’ within the Wholesale Markets complex.
Now, this was an experience. “Shall we have a full cooked breakfast?” we wondered, looking at the menu. One of the other guys already in there sniggered. “You want a small breakfast,” the woman behind the counter announced. OK then. The breakfast itself was preceded by steaming mugs of strong tea and two doorstep slabs of hot buttered toast. I went into raptures at the formica-topped tables, convinced that we had a kitchen table in exactly the same design when I was growing up in the 1970s. Then the main breakfast arrived on an enormous oval plate. Not being sure of the caff’s modus operandi we wondered whether they had put both of our breakfasts onto the one plate. No. The other was still to come. So … a small breakfast consisted of 4 sausages, 3 slices of bacon, 3 fried eggs, all gently laid atop a sea of baked beans, tomatoes and mushrooms. There seemed to be some kind of mystery surrounding what a ‘regular’ sized breakfast actually was as no one would quite tell us. “You don’t want to know,” said the woman who served us when I asked.
We staggered out half and hour later, three stone heavier, but buoyed up for the day’s main task ahead of Extreme Flower Arranging. We were decorating a village hall. Partner was responsible for two enormous displays on either side of the ‘stage’ area and I set about creating lots of small displays in IKEA glasses for tables.
All in all we were quite pleased with our first attempt and the flowers seemed to go down well. Another particular pleasure of the day was that all the guests were given a small earthenware pot to drink out of, made by Al (the groom), which we were allowed to take home with us.
I’ve previously been ‘official’ poet-in-residence for the day at a friend’s wedding, and as there was a spot for ‘turns’ at one point during the evening I read an appropriate seeming poem:
What are you wedding for?
Have you been wedding long?
Make sure you wed in a clearly visible place.
I spend far too much of my life wedding for buses.
Could you go and wed on that table in the corner.
I’ve been on an NHS wedding list for over a year now.
If we wed here we’ll get a parking ticket.
I always get nervous when I’m in the wedding room before having my teeth seen to.
I’ve had enough, I’m not going to wed any longer!
Has it been worth the wed?
Published in Raw Edge (Autumn, 2002)