Dean and I got married at a small church outside Elgin. Then we had a picnic reception in my parents’ back yard. Here are some of the preparations. This must have been the day before the wedding.









Dean and I got married at a small church outside Elgin. Then we had a picnic reception in my parents’ back yard. Here are some of the preparations. This must have been the day before the wedding.









In 1979 I spent three months at a college in London while I student taught at a primary school. I became friends with a group of other students who’d formed a pseudo-club and called itself the United Free State of Coprophilia. I became a member (under the alias of Gladys Hipps) and was issued this passport.
I’ve got a suspicion that the founders thought coprophilia was love of death and not love of shit.


I have no idea what the distinguishing feature comment was all about. (It says “Quick temper, easily flared when confronted by black jacketed idiots. So there.”)
We used to get quite a few Christmas newsletters and while it was nice hearing from everyone, Jeremy’s was always the one I looked forward to most. We’ve not gotten one from him in the past few years — we never responded, so our fault. He may not send them anymore — plus the price of mailing overseas is high.
