|Picture: Alexi Lubomirski/Kensington Palace|
Locals gathered together with food to share (and drink to keep hold of) as the big screen worked its magic. I did notice, though, some rather upmarket and expensive scotch eggs which didn't stray far from the person who had brought them.
The bride looked stunning in a simple, white dress, and the bridegroom was a handsome, dashing serviceman in uniform. The coverage was well worth watching, if only to see Windsor Castle in all its glory and St George's Chapel lit up by those lovely flowers.
Everyone agrees, though, that the preacher, The Most Reverend Michael Curry, made his mark. No-one's going to forget that address in a hurry. We loved the sentiment and power and culture-clashing zeal of his sermon. But it was far too long. He was aiming for six or seven minutes, but it went on for fourteen.
Love is the only way, its true, but the sermon caused howls of laughter in the village hall at the point when the Bishop sounded like he was winding up but then carried on as if he had actually only been just pausing for breath. The royals were pushed to the edge of their comfort zone. We especially liked the awkward reactions on some of the guests' faces. Zara Phillips' open-mouthed astonishment was a picture.
The big screen up and running, it was then time for a quick change to settle down to the FA Cup. As I'm football phobic, I opted for a spot of gardening instead.
Here in Lush Places, we're making the most of it as the Royal Wedding effect continues to hold off bad weather. It's as if Harry and Meghan had a direct line to Mother Nature. It's glorious out there.
Farmers are towing trailer loads of rubble to prop up gateways devastated by all the rain we had earlier in the year. And there is a real tangy smell of dung in the air today. Fields have been ploughed and the grass cut. People are busy, busy, busy.
Here comes the summer.
That's about it.
Love Maddie x