If you’ve been through the ritual of the wedding, you’ll know this moment well.
The announcement was made long ago and the six or so months since have made you vehemently wish you had decided to elope or simply cohabit.
You have endured invitation lists, wedding places, menus, fittings, endless debates about dress and etiquette.
You have paid out cash, until you are sure the bank will send someone in a suit to tell you the whole deal’s off.
You have partied with old friends and bade good-bye to the years of being single. You know where the rings are, and the bridesmaids gifts.
Now comes the night before.
The enormity of the task before you renders carefree enjoyment an impossibility. Tonight is a time for watching and fretting.
Whether it wants to or not, Britain will be watching tonight.
Whether you are a fervent royalist or someone who just wants all this to go away: even a total media ban, a lock on the iPhone, a telly-free evening would not shut out the street sounds. For Joe Punter has been accorded a holiday, and there is a nice sentimental event afoot. Nice bird, big church, wronged prince made good, yada yada yada.
London is all abuzz: and here in the suburbia of Southern England, the barbeques are firing up, the supermarkets are denuded, and there is an expectant air. We are not averse to a little public-spirited flag-waving, it seems.
While some of us have our sleeping bags at the ready, or an intrepidly balanced structure leering over the Abbey on which to park our outrageously large zoom lens, most of Britain will watch the forthcoming nuptials on the telly and party in their suburban back gardens, with the kids bowling round and the dog eating the odd sausage that falls on the ground.
It’s turned colder, and showers are promised. Those on the pavements of the city, so reputedly golden, will be damp and a little chilly. But patriotic fervour is a funny thing. It can achieve all sorts of things. Once it got us out of a very nasty corner indeed when the rest of Europe had fallen.
My father in law was there, then. He was with the Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers, crossing a channel with ankles deep in water, mending tanks and commandeering jeeps like there was suddenly, inexplicably, a tomorrow.
And that enduring spirit was there again when Queen Elizabeth II was crowned. This time, though, he had turned his ingenuity to a thoroughly modern challenge: building a television set.
In 1953, that meant a room full of valves, a contraption which hung together using an inordinate amount of solder, and a tiny greenish screen which flickered eerily, depicting the arrival of Her Majesty-in-waiting.
It was built with both ceremony, and a considerable dose of theatre. When it was complete his only daughter was allowed to usher her friends, one by one, into the room where there was just enough extra room for one slightly uncomfortably accommodated spectator.
A far cry from the sofa on which he sat, watching another royal wedding: one with a puffy dress and pomp and circumstance, but a slightly vague policy on Whatever Love Means.
Tomorrow, his son, now in his forties, will watch a vastly superior telly. He will check his Twitter and his wife will be unable to ignore the Facebook community, all agog at The Dress and The Abbey, the pomp and circumstance.
The iPad may well be broadcasting another channel while the TV sticks steadfastly with the BBC. We have our loyalties. It seems just a skip in time since King George sat down in front of the great block microphones to speak to the nation, in the early thirties. Our Queen embraced new technology, televising her speech in 1957 and forever after.
Now we’re using The Night Before to check we have the apps to fit the big day.
History is painted colourful by minutiae. The main events of the day will soon be known by heart and talked over, again and again, in pubs and front rooms and gardens and streets, schools and workplaces and cyberhaunts.
But there will be a second level of history: the fanfare for the common man. Because each of us here in England will conduct this day in our own way, with our family and our animals, in the little boxy houses which cover the populous country.
And that, I suspect, will make reading every bit as compelling as the story of the central characters.
God bless us, every one.
Kate Shrewsday 
Enjoy the pomp and circumstance, Kate.
I plan to tune in at some point to see the bride and groom in their wedding finery. I recall being far more interested in Diana’s nuptials . . . just 3 years before my own.
Planning my own wedding was a rather relaxed affair for me ~ I borrowed my mother’s wedding dress which fit perfectly and required no fittings, my mom made a three tiered cake and catered the rest of the reception, we hired the girls from down the street to pass the hors d’oeurves and pour the champagnes, etc.
Maybe if I’d done it up “right” . . . it would have been front page news. š
I think blue blood has attracted a few extra papparazzi , coupled with a modern fairy tale which went horribly wrong. I bet your wedding was huge fun, Nancy…
We had fewer than 30 guests at our wedding. I can’t imagine what it must feel like to get married while the whole world (at least the whole of Britain) watches. I feel nervous and sorry for this couple…but of course, I’ll probably also be among those watching. Hard to resist!
It’s compelling,Kristen, for sure. We can’t avoid the coverage here: I’ll probably just grab a cup of tea and watch, for posterity š
I missed the 1981 Royal Wedding, so I’m trying to psych myself up to arise at 3:00 a.m. to watch this one. The US doesn’t have much pomp and circumstance, so we have to borrow from Britain. In the words of Freddy Eynsford-Hill, you do it so awfully well.
It is making us millions apparently, Kathy š We have a good number of your countrypeople on the pavement on the route. Hope you enjoy it. One thing is sure: it will be meticulously staged. I think the abbey will look amazing.
I was on a bit of a road trip today and had tuned into public radio, who was chatting up the event (I’d actually forgot as I’ve been away from things for a few days). It made me remember Diana’s day. I remember it was summer, early morning, and I watched it all in the family room…so in awe of THAT dress! How perplexed was I when I saw Charles take her hand…I thought he was her Father! We shall hope that this was has a happier ending… enjoy the day!
It’s a sad story, but Diana was a very beautiful woman. The wedding was just the beginning. But where Diana went for blousy Louis IV excess, I think Kate will be going for something which screams ‘less is more’. With the world’s media focused on her, and cash no object, that dress is going to be something special š Enjoy, Angela
I’m working at home today,. so I’m sure I’ll turn on the tv and watch some of it. Oops that means checking which channel is showing it.
Such pomp and ceremony is usually worth a gander.
Exactly š The Dress and The Abbey are tipped to be breathtaking. And the reception will be so sophisticated: they’ve banned pints!! In England!! Can you imagine?
I’m terribly excited, going to wear my best hat while I watch š
I expect a picture š
Welcome back, Cindy, the retreat looked heavenly. I am an emerald shade of envious.
What did you think of the hats?
Fergie’s daughter’s hat looked rather Seussian to me. š
The whole family have Seussian leanings, I feel sure, Nancy š I loved the little tiara Kate wore. And as for the Queen’s yellow hat: perfect…
On the night before, I stayed at the home of Paddy and Rod, my brother – in law, and sister – in – law, to be.
That was at Lydd in Kent. The wedding was at Dover.
We had, as far as I can remember, about 35 guests, and the reception was held in a very small hotel in Dover.
That Day was the moment that the presence in this world of Kate Shrewsday in this world was set to occur, together with siblings Joe, Libby and Peter.
What a long time ago, and what a wonderful life we have enjoyed, with our amazing family.
I wish the Royal couple the same happiness.
Dad
Me too. A nice night before, Dad š
Kate, I see where you get your lyricism from. Hello, Kate’s Dad. š
š
Hallo Tilly Bud. Thanks for the comment.
My writing is nowhere near as polished as Kate’s, but perhaps she got a little of enthusiasm from me!
Kate’s Dad
Lovely, Kate! Makes me want to bring out our welding photos –
I know what you mean…
I got up at 6:15 here, 12:15 your time, and tuned in. Saw part of the ceremony and the procession in the carriages to Buckingham Palace. Quite enjoyable.
Some of the hats (see above) made me laugh.
Nice dress. Great feel-good international event,netted us ten million, I believe, and the country is left with a conviction that this time, the country will be in rock-solid hands when this prince takes over. They’re clearly in love. Huzzah!
It was a fabulously happy occasion to witness (albeit in our ugg boots ;-)) and a very welcome relief from the daily barrage of negative news. Long may the effects last. (although I’m hoping the effects of all that champers will wear off soon – I have a deadline to meet…)
Good luck with that one, BB:-)In terms of news, I’m all weddinged out…I need a bit of Gadaffi and a curry now…
Exquisitely expressed, Kate. What a treat to read this from one at the coalface š It was wonderful to witness the bride and groom in love, everything so sincere and tasteful – not to mention the good weather!
The weather has made a huge difference, Naomi! It could so easily have bucketed down, but everything held and we all went into barbecue mode when the sun came out in the afternoon.