My last post: “Eight days and counting.” Hard to believe; that seems so long ago. But I was so busy, what with the upcoming wedding and the impending end of the world as we know it. Wow, on the big day I received 157 hits on my site, and frankly, I really don’t think they were related to the nuptials. Today, for example, I’ve received three. So there you go.
Since nothing of note has happened with the book, I will turn to the wedding. Except for the fact that my sister had $195 stolen from her purse, it all went beautifully. Absolutely the perfect day–clear blue skies and mild and comfortable temps with Mr. Sun smiling gently over all. The bride was radiant, and I’m not just saying that as a mom. The dress was conservatively simple in style but of dupioni silk which hung in a heavy cascade of rich folds (you can tell I paid for it, right?). She went for the veil with the little rosebuds from our garden at the crown draped over her face that still allowed her blue eyes to shine through. And her stubborn insistence on red and yellow flowers for her bouquet was right after all, with their brightness a true reflection of her spirit rather than the more sugary-sweet choice that pink and white would have been.
At the altar the bridesmaids flanked her in yellow dresses. A small problem there; one of the bridesmaids had to drop out about two days before, so Amelia, Katie’s cousin, graciously agreed to step in–to the dress that was just a little too short and tight on her than expected. But at twenty years old, what with her purple suede shoes, multiple tattoos and stylish brown and orange streaked hair shaved short on one side, she definitely pulled it off. After all, the bridal party was adorned with gorgeous leis flown in fresh from Hawaii by Jake’s mom, and everyone else in the church, including the pastor, was festively decked with blinking fake leis, so a little off-balance touch was right in order.
The reception was held in the little garden behind the church (which, by the way, was 115 years old with its original chairs). Flowers were abloom, and the table bouquets of more red and yellow flowers glowed against the backdrop of towering greenery. A giant old oak surrounded by a wooden bench spread its branches over all. The DJ had set up a small dance floor, and the cake had its own place of honor elevated in the far corner of the garden. And the little red flowers atop the yellow cake were perfect. Shame on me for assuming they would look like a brick squashing the cake; they were beautiful.
We had food, delicious food, more food than we could possibly eat–so much food that when we finally got the leftovers home, we rounded up all of our neighbors to take all that they could use. Sadly, all the homeless shelters were closed by that time, and I learned that they don’t answer the phone after 8:00 or so. But the marinara sauce that our neighbor Steve considerately cooked up for us out of the leftover bruschetta was divine.
And so the newlyweds are basking in the Hawaiian sun by the blue, blue sea, texting us, “Having fun in paradise XOXO.” To my dear daughter: it was all worth it, after all. XOXO