“You’re not marrying her for her matchboxes?”
In a fortnight’s time my brother-in-law is making an honest woman of his partner and I have been chosen as the best man. This will be the third time I have been given the honour of being the “best”. Luckily, yet again, no kilts will be involved. A man in a skirt just isn’t right, now is it? Continue reading “Raise your glass”
Boadicea's Chariot 