“Doesn’t my sexy, bald bloke scrub up well?” – Bride Speech by Rhoda

Speech Type: Bride
Time to Read Aloud: 8 minutes
Our Favourite Line: “I thought I’d read a poem. But, the only one I know well is The Dogs Party which, having been taught to me by my late farming father, is highly inappropriate for today.”

Those of you who know me probably aren’t surprised that I wanted to say a few words today – and those of you who know me really well will be surprised if it is only a few words!

I’d like to begin by thanking some very special people:

To my stunningly beautiful daughter, Georgina, I’d like to apologise that my big hat occasion has come first. I want to thank her for loving and valuing Ken and witnessing my marriage to him today. Please accept a small token in memory of the occasion.

To Pam and Ted, whose special year we have hijacked, congratulations on achieving 60 years of marriage! Thank you for making me feel like a valued member of your family, for your many kindnesses, and for being so tolerant of my industrial language.

To Neil, my grateful thanks for his superb best man duties which I have every confidence will be executed to an unsurpassable standard. Please accept this small gift as a token of my appreciation.

To dear friends who I don’t see often enough, thank you for coming today it means so much.

And, finally, an enormous thank you to my big sister Pauline. She has come out of retirement to be the unsung heroine of our farming business taking care of our pigs on a daily basis. She is always there for any extravagance I lay at her feet and often at short notice.

Now, a few things about my sister Pauline you need to know first, she was always more elegant and clothes orientated than me so it has probably taken her many years to forget the humiliating walk she and I had to make as little girls, wearing summer frocks and wellington boots because I forgot the bag containing our sandals. On another occasion, her lovely clothes had green stains on them because my pony ate anything she put on the clothesline.

Paul, I don’t say it often enough, thank you. Please accept this small token of appreciation from Ken and me.

Right, having decided to strike a blow towards becoming a 21st century woman by making a speech at my wedding, I thought I’d read a poem. But, the only one I know well is The Dogs Party which, having been taught to me by my late farming father, is highly inappropriate for today. Instead, I shall talk a little about my fantastic new husband – doesn’t my sexy, bald bloke scrub up well, eh?

Ken came into my life just as I exited my 25-year marriage. It was a cold and miserable December night when a pathetic figure clutching two suitcases, a shotgun, and a Bowie knife, knocked on the door of my flat in Carmarthen.

Having then agreed to take him in, I realised I was going to have to feed him and the only suitable cooking vessel I had in which to make a lasagne was a 2lbs cake tin! I sat in near silence that evening and watched Ken demolish almost the entire contents of the tin, but he left the green beans. Oh boy, I thought, he’s going to take some feeding.

Later that evening came another knock on my flat door. It was a male colleague who thought I might be lonely. I invited him in and told him he would be welcome to join us for supper but Ken had eaten all the lasagne and there were only beans and he couldn’t eat too many of those because I needed to save some for the next day as Ken had blown my housekeeping budget.

We had a few drinks too many so when it got too late for him to leave we offered him to stay the night. With only having the one double bed, he had to bunk in with us. We’d been in bed half an hour or so and there was another knock at the door to my flat. Ken, armed now with his Bowie knife, went to investigate so I said to my colleague, “Quick, we’re on our own now’s your chance!” He jumped out of bed, ran to the fridge and ate all the beans!

Thankfully Ken has an appetite for everything that makes up my complicated life and when I brought him to live in my beloved Gower, he fit in like he’d always belonged here.

Regrettably, my Dad didn’t meet Ken, but I know he would have approved and liked him especially because he could get electrical things for free. Safe in this knowledge, after a 14-year courtship, and on yet another dreary winter’s night, I screwed up my courage and asked him to marry me. Thankfully he said yes.

Ken owns a pair of socks which have the definition of his name printed on them. It apparently means ‘noble and kind’. Ken is much more than that, he is everything I could wish for in a husband and I appreciate my good fortune in meeting such a warm-hearted, loving, funny, dependable, and generous man whose values and spirit match mine.

I am very grateful too that he adores my farm and is prepared to devote his time and energy to its success. He endures the weekly separation my transient working life presents with admirable domesticity and now prepares lasagne for me! He is my rock, my comfort, and my best friend who I love deeply. Ken – I look forward to growing much older with you by my side.

Family and friends will you charge your glasses and please join me in a toast to my new husband Ken!