You may (or may not) have noticed an absence of the noisy gong or clanging cymbal of my ceaseless comments over the past week. That is because we ripped our family apart and traveled to godless Wisconsin for a wedding ceremony.
I won't go into the details of the separation too much (since I just blogged them for Varda's Sibling Saturday post) except to say. . . we made the right decision. As much as it hurt to be away from little Lily, we needed to be there for my wife's sister and husband, and it would have been torture for Lily. Without being too defensive, I know that she was happy staying with her grandparents, and although she may even have missed her as much as we missed her (though I doubt it), she is better off having not made the trip.
The wedding was beautiful and non traditional in a way that only two beautiful and non traditional human beings with writers' souls could have made it. Since 99% of the people who read this are women I suppose I won't be able to get away with not at least broad-brushing some of the details.
First you should know that my sister-in-law is borderline obsessed with the fifties. She wore a really fetching throwback gown that was at once simple and elegant (my favorite). There were no attendants, and to compensate for it, they had my wife officiate. Wha??? Yeah, she did the ceremony, and she was BRILLIANT. She started off a little shaky, it was touch and go there for a bit emotionally, but once she mastered it, the initial tremors in her voice and involuntary sniffs just made the whole thing seem more loving and special and she built up steam as she went.
The groom is a musician and had musician friends replete with fiddles and accordians and drums and such. They played folksy music that wouldn't have been out of place at a Renaissance Festival. . . it was perfect for the venue, which was. . . charming.
|She's 4'2". Seriously. Small Church.|
The couple wrote their own vows, funny, and meaningful and personal and lyrical, they charmed even the bride's father (my father-in-law) who was full on grump about the non-traditionality (totally a word) of the wedding and the officiant and the location, and allowed himself to thaw into satisfied joy for his daughter and her soul mate.
Later, we all went to the reception which we helped decorate with twigs and gourds and leaves and birds. . . I know this sounds like an enchanted forest took a shit in someones banquet hall, but I swear the effect really was magical. . . and listened to music and ate good food.
My daughter was somewhat miserable at that point. Bored, and for some reason, reluctant to dance (which is ridiculous, because she takes baton, acro, tap, ballet, and jazz dancing lessons. Seriously 5 hours per week of fucking dance classes and she can't shake a leg at her aunt's reception??) She got weepy when people tried to prod her out there, knowing she'd have fun. Finally I roused myself from my own comfort zone, picked her up and swooped her onto the dance floor. We slow danced and fast danced and once she was going she found she could not be stopped and later we had to have the smile surgically removed from her sweaty face.
But enough girly crap. Cards won the series. . . great game 6, though I fell asleep before I saw the ending. I drank beer and ate beef jerky and spat.
Oh. . . and CRAP! I still have to talk about Halloween!