mostly david ephgrave

I married my wife seven years ago today. Well, that's not strictly true as she wasn't my wife when I married her. Though as soon as we got married, she was. There were split seconds between being single and betrothed, but those tiny increments would be vital when say, opening a joint bank account or taking out a mortgage. And you've got to get that shit right. Being married has only brought good. It strengthened our relationship while reassuring me that there's someone on my side when I lose faith. It's no coincidence that I often play with my wedding ring when I'm nervous or anxious. It's a physical aide-memoire of our partnership, which started sixteen years ago and has only grown with time. In many ways, that's my proudest achievement and the best thing in my life (though my automatic cigarette-rolling machine comes in at second place; that thing's witchcraft, I tell you). And how could we not be the perfect team when our conjoined surnames make t...

I got married four years ago today. It’s strange to think it was so recent, though in many ways it seems like only yesterday. We were fortunate to have a perfect day with lovely weather and a beautiful little venue called the Mayfair Library (which only opened as a temporary replacement for Marylebone Register Office while it was being refurbished, which is a shame as it was such a nice place) plus a small group of people who were comfortable with each other. One of my two Best Men, Stephen, often rather flatteringly cites it as the perfect wedding; I don’t know about that, but it was certainly right for us. Getting married still feels like the best thing I've done four years on. My wife’s still my best friend after over thirteen years together and legally formalizing our relationship (to put it romantically) only made things better. We were lucky everything fell into place on our wedding day and on our honeymoon too (apart from a cancelled flight meaning a longer stay in Ven...

I’ve been married for three years today; what are you going to do about it, eh? We’ve marked the anniversary by staying in the same hotel we visited for our second one that’s practically in the same postcode to where we live, which made me feel very suspicious when I arrived alone this afternoon. It felt like I was here for some kind of extra-marital liaison, particularly as I turned up in a taxi with my luggage in a plastic bag - classy - and had to give my wife’s name instead of my own, as the room was booked by her, which somehow compounded the sense of subterfuge; I may as well have said it was reserved under John Smith. As I got here a couple of hours earlier, I took the opportunity to quickly run my show as it stands, as I haven’t had time to do it for the last few days and I didn’t want Sunday’s gig in Cambridge to be too much of a shock. It went well, but was a little rushed, which gave me a slight feeling of panic, when I haven’t got long ...

Tonight, I’m staying in a hotel with practically the same postcode as my flat, to mark my second wedding anniversary. I should clarify that I’m not here on my own; my wife's with me too. It’s a nice, reasonably high-end place (despite being a Travelodge in a past life) with a generous balcony and some well-stocked tea and coffee-making facilities. It even has a walk-in wardrobe, in the sense that you could step in there should you so choose to, but you wouldn’t want to hang about. It’s good to have a break from home. The only frustrating thing was we checked into our room five hours after it was available, because I had work to do for tomorrow and Saturday’s shows. I didn’t like being in my office, knowing I could have been in a nice hotel room that we’d paid for to have a little time to ourselves. This was unavoidable though, as the more I got done today, the better-prepared I’ll be tomorrow. I’m very tired this evening, thanks to a late finish after last night’s gi...

One of the contestants on today's episode of Pointless complained she had no spare time because she was busy planning her wedding. I found this ironic, as I was in the queue to watch a recording of the show when I booked mine.  This sounds like a lie.  It isn't. I didn't do it on a whim. There was a bit of forward-planning. I popped the question to my girlfriend a few days before. We decided we wanted get married the same year, and to book a date before we told people, to make it tangible. So it was that I found myself on the phone to Marylebone Register Office whilst in line outside Elstree Studios, waiting to watch my favourite early evening game show.  It wasn't the best time to make the call, if I'm honest. I hadn't thought it through. The people at the register office were very helpful and offered me a few dates, but told me that a Registrar would have to speak to me before anything could be confirmed. They said I should expect a phone call within t...

I spotted this in Wilkinson’s yesterday. As wedding cards go, it’s pretty pessimistic. I’m not sure whether it’s intended for the bride or groom. If it’s for her, it’s saying ‘you’re marrying a man with zero intelligence’, and if it’s for him, it’s saying ‘YOU HAVE NO HOPE. GET OUT WHILE YOU CAN’ . Neither is a sound basis for a long-lasting relationship. Let’s hope it’s the former option, as the latter is more sinister. There’s a slim chance it’s aimed at potential newlyweds with a fiancé who's sans head. You can get cards for anything these days. If that's the case, it's a ceremony you’d want to rush through. No use staving off the big day until the distant future. In reality, this was the only card on the rack where bodies outnumbered heads two-to-one. I wonder how it managed to get past quality control. Presumably the same way it got past the cashier, who didn’t bat an eyelid. He must have...

Today's blog was written in the sky.  I'm in a plane, not up a ladder, on my way to Venice for my honeymoon.  I've been looking forward to it. Although, at the same time I haven't; with all the wedding excitement, I'd almost forgotten I was going, so the holiday feels like a welcome surprise.  This isn't my first trip to Venice. I went with my parents in the late Eighties. Despite being seven or eight at the time, I still remember it vividly. I guess this is because the city is so distinctive; there aren't many holiday destinations built almost entirely on or in water (except for the City of Atlantis, which doesn't really count).  I remember travelling by gondola. I also recall posing for the photograph below.  We were standing in St Mark's Square, where I'd just watched the little mechanical people who lived in the clock tower make their way out as it struck the hour. Round my neck is a toy camera, full of slides of famous I...

Yesterday, we took the cat to my fiancée's sister's flat, so she (the sister) can look after her (the cat) while we're away for our wedding and honeymoon (don't burgle us). I keep forgetting this, and expecting see the cat about the house.  It's very confusing. We also have two budgies, who live in the bedroom (as pets; they're not feral). We'll usually observe a complicated airlock-like procedure to ensure our feline and feathered lodgers never meet. Millie is a housecat, so any potential exits must be kept shut. All of a sudden, the rule book has been thrown out the window (which can be left wide open afterwards, as a bonus). More than once, I've mistaken a screwed-up cardigan for a sleeping cat. Thankfully, I've realised my mistake pretty quickly. I haven't tried to feed it, or take it to the vet.  "Can you tell me why my cat has grown sleeves?" It may be silly, but I miss having her about. She's excellent company...