I made wedding cake for two gorgeous young people who are sort of friend/aquaintances.
Check out their wedding in the Irish Times mag.
Aren't they pretty? See the landscape he is son of?
From the first time I met Alex, I was fairly certain that had I been ten (well, maybe twelve) years younger I would have been unable to stop myself clinging to his leg and refusing to be separated from it by anything barring a surgical intervention.
When I talk to him I have to sit on my hands so I don't fondle his bicep, and try to look like I'm following the conversation instead of just gazing at him. Ah me.
When I looked at their tables all set up for the dinner, and read their thing in the paper, I was struck by a slightly painful juxtaposition of reaction. On one hand it feels like in another dimension, an alternate reality of me, that was my trajectory, all sunkissed there. And at the same time, my heart just fills with a happiness and warmth that is almost painful, for them.