Two malts, two tartans, and a first date that lasted nine hours.
A Friday afternoon at the end of August, in the barn at Fruin Farm above the Loch Lomond hills — Christine and Stewart's wedding had everything I love about this job: a blended family front and centre, a quaich, a handfasting, and a room full of people who'd been told heckling was actively encouraged. They took me at my word.
Their story
Christine was in Helensburgh, single-handedly running the travel industry; Stewart was in a cottage up in Edzell, working offshore. They matched on Tinder, and the first-date plan — the Titanic exhibition at the V&A Dundee — sank when Christine's car went in for a service. Plan B was a "wee coffee and a walk" at Luss. The walk turned out to be Luss to Tarbet, which our travel-industry expert had slightly miscalculated, followed by a boat across Loch Lomond, followed by an hour at the wrong bus stop until a Canadian tourist gave them proper directions. Nine hours, start to finish. Neither of them wanted it to end — which told them everything. A wee house on the Gare Loch followed (spotted by Stewart after Christine had dismissed it), then a proposal — but only after Stewart had quietly asked Christine's two sons for their blessing first. They said yes. So did she.
The ceremony
This was a ceremony built around family. Christine came in on the arm of one son while the other ran the music — and later stepped up to wrap the tartan for the handfasting. Two tartans, one from each side, bound and pulled into a knot: two families, properly blended, quite literally tying the knot. Before that came the quaich — two single malts, one for each family, poured into the lover's cup by two of the grandweans and drunk to their future. I shared the couple's "secrets" — the things they'd told me in private that they love about each other (and the one wee thing that needs work) — which is where the laughing came in. Then a David Klein reading, a moment of complete silence before the vows, the legal declarations, and the schedule signed. Married — and the only couple I know who, when choosing a venue, actually ran away from Gretna.
Marrying at Fruin Farm yourself?
Late August was kind to us — the hills above the Fruin valley were at their greenest and the barn was golden by early evening. My advice from the front of the room: the barn's rustic warmth suits the Scottish traditions perfectly, so if you've ever fancied a handfasting or a quaich, this is the room for it — and involving the weans and grandweans in the pouring and the wrapping turns ritual into family memory. The full venue guide is here: humanist weddings at Fruin Farm — and it sits right in my Glasgow & Loch Lomond patch.