Got home this afternoon just at the start of the second set, and sat through the drama of Petra Kvitova holding her nerve (and her serve) to eventually win her first Wimbledon final. Smiles all round, except for the Sharapova camp, of course. Me, I’d go for the non-grunter most days.
So what's with missing the start of the match? We’d been at the wedding of Ruth, a friend and colleague, to Joe, who I just managed to beat once at skittles. Why do most brides look so stunning? Is it the skill of the hair-dresser, make-up artist, dress-designer? I think it’s got more to do with the joy coming out. Certainly, for these two, that was there in abundance. Not just the happiness of the day, but the result of deep-grown convictions coming to fruition. The church was packed, the singing was enthusiastic, the sun shone, and two people’s lives will never be the same. Joy. Such a little word. Such a lot of meaning.
And as they signed the register at half-time (intriguingly) we all sat and watched this video. Enjoy!
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