Day 176: Size Of A Bus

A London wedding.  Unseasonable rain and wind scatters the blossom from the Japanese flowering cherry trees outside the church.  Eco-nfetti.  Inside, the vicar is enthusiastic and shiny, pumped to have a capacity congregation.  But I think the organist is intimidated.  None of us really knows the tune to 'Glad that I live am I' - including him.  All a bit embarrassing.  He makes up for it by hurling himself breathlessly at 'Jerusalem'.  We hurry to keep up.  No chance for any swords to sleep in any hands.  Not at that pace.  

Old Routemaster buses take us to the reception in Westminster.  The seats are TINY.  Either the bus has shrunk with age, like a dwindling nan, or we have grown bigger as a species over the last few decades.

Supersize me.