Here Comes the Bride!
Well, I've been waiting to give Beth a first shot at this, but I don't imagine a blog is the first thing on her mind these days. So, I'll give it a go with my thoughts about The Event which took place this past Bastille Day.....
First of all, I have a love/hate relationship with weddings. Not with the institution of them, mind you; there are just those I don't feel the need to attend. Like for people and/or relatives that couldn't pick me out of line-up, but wouldn't mind whatever gift I give them. Like the second and third weddings of distant cousins, or for that matter, almost any second wedding. All depends on the person and circumstances, I guess. I would've attended my brother's second, my sister's as well, but each of these was done quietly and privately, and I'm cool with that, too.
Believe it or not, that was the "hate" part of the relationship. The other side of the coin is when those magic relationships come along to dearly beloved ones, so to speak. Janie's, any and all of the Stoddard girls', Tiny Tim and Miss Vickie's, but I digress. One such magical moment came a few weeks ago when my sweet Beth tied the knot with what's-his-name. Okay, I know his name (I think), and she was never really mine, except perhaps in my own mind, but the wedding was a moment of fairy-tale wonder nonetheless.
Beth and The Interloper (I'll just call him TI from now on) decided back in February/March not only that they would get married, but also that it would be this summer. And since he's from Illinois, as are most of their college friends, she asked if it could take place in the Quad Cities. Interestingly, she asked Eilene instead of me, which kinda' surprised the both of us, since Beth and I have always done most of the corresponding. Then we found out that her mom (Eilene's sister) told her to ask Eilene and not me because everyone knew that if she asked me to jump over the moon, I'd say yes, whereas EB might see the more practical side of things. Probably true.
Over the few months, the church was selected (Episcopalian in Davenport, or the "Anglican" church, as they called it, both having attended the same in Chicago), the baker, the photographer, etc., all long distance, with some guidance and suggestions from us in the QC. Cut to the present, or at least the most recent past. Our little home was set up as ground zero, housing at one point 12 people (with one little bathroom, I might add). Beth's mom, Karen, came a week early to help us get everything organized, and she turned out to be as important as the bride and TI, as far as I was concerned. By the time everyone got here, lists were made, plans were set, assignments were ready....
.....And the magic began. Loved ones jumped in with both feet to clean, dust, build a patio (really!), prepare a basement shower, shop, shop and then shop. By the time the bridesmaids and groomsmen arrived on Thursday, we all said "good enough" and sat back to enjoy and be a part of the festivities. Relatives started arriving, all the kids went away to their respective bachelor(ette) parties, and the rest of us called out for pizza! Somewhere in there was a collective sigh of accomplishment.
I got out of the house early on Friday to do some last-minute grocery shopping (which took three hours at five different stores - don't ask) and then set out for my sister's place, which is where the rehearsal dinner was going to be. In-ground pool, h-u-u-u-u-uge and back yard, where we set up badminton and croquet. I was the chef of the day, with three grills and a smoker at hand, serving up smoked ribs, chicken, shrimp skewers and lamb "shish-ka-jim-bobs." Spicy beans in the crock pots, corn on the cob on the pot on the stove, homemade cookies supplied by my mom, and numerous salads by the aunts (EB and her sisters). Lemonade or water to drink.
What a great day. Using an idea straight from my friend Ruthie, when everyone showed up for the party, I made the presentation of t-shirts. HyVee had a huge special a few months back where they were getting rid of black shirts for a buck apiece. I called EB and we picked out 30 of them. Then sister Barb, with her computerized sewing machine, embroidered titles on them (sister of the bride, groomsman, etc.). When all were handed out, one of the uncles, as if on cue, said, "but YOU don't have one, Jim," whereupon I quickly pulled open my shirt to reveal my specially-customed one which read in BIG letters, "FAVORITE UNCLE". Heh-heh.
We all ate our fill, swam and badmitted and croqueed the evening away, then cleaned up so well that when my sister and her hubby got home late that night after we were all long-gone, they couldn't even tell that we had been there. I confess that we did destroy one styrofoam pool noodle. I'm going to get one for Barb for Christmas this year.
Oh yeah, somewhere after that, there was actually a wedding.
Saturday morning was one of the first days I didn't start off by going to the store. Yet I was still on the go. We and Aunt Paula (EB's younger sister) put together a gourmet basket for the bride and groom's room consisting of cheeses and crackers, chocolates and Champagne. I delivered it to the hotel and then took myself out for breakfast at a diner down the road from the hotel. I think it was also the first day I got to sit and read the paper in the morning. I figured there would be enough craziness the rest of the day; I might as well find a bit of solace first.
Sure enough, there was a state of controlled chaos when I got back home. Beth had "voted" younger brother, Colin, out of the bathroom (Colin said she won by with a vote of 1 to 1.) so TI could get ready. Colin reminded her that they all had to leave at the same time, but when her eyes turned yellow and her head started revolving, he thought it wise to let her have her way. Smart move.
Most of the womenfolk were at the church by this time, as once again "Aunts and Uncles, Inc." were in charge of the catering for the reception. We decided on the K.I.S.S. method and simply went to Sam's Club for a cartload of cheeses, grapes, salamis and breads, arranging them on platters with about 300 lbs of parsley for garnish. The punch, too, was our secret recipe; the secret being that each batch was different, as we just poured a bunch of different juices together then added a two-liter of ginger ale. The nice touch was that we (okay, THEY) had made layered fruit and flower ice rings throughout the week, so the punch looked as fantastic as it tasted.
At noon-thirty, just before I headed over, I got a call to please call the bakery, since the cake, scheduled to arrive by noon, was a no-show. Answering machine. Great. Oh, well, off to the church. The ladies were busy in the kitchen with the wedding coordinator - hey, that's Karen Brooks! I know her from Gendler's! By now it was 1:00. Still no cake with an hour left to go.
They didn't need my help, so I checked out the sanctuary, met the organist, the photographer, talked with the groom for a bit and then went back to start putting plates of goodies out on the buffet..1:30. A hole where the cake should be.
Pictures started to happen, and guests were starting to accumulate at the back of the church. Since the groomsmen (also serving as ushers) were up getting photographed, most of the folks just stayed outside and waited patiently. It was a gorgeous - if perhaps a bit warm - day, so folks didn't mind standing around and talking. Finally around 1:50, the doors opened and the church started to fill up. Mom and Dad arrived, cousins and guests arrived. The cake didn't. Time for plan B, Karen assured us that she'd keep an eye on the ceremony (it was a high-church, communion service), and if she saw it wrapping up, she'd personally run down to the grocery store and buy a bunch of cakes, and then she'd also personally lead the angry mob to go tar, feather and pillage the bakery, torches and pitchforks included.
We were seated, and I took the opportunity to again look around the sanctuary. It was a fairly ornate church with cathedral-type vaulted ceilings, and a pipe organ up in the loft that filled every nook of the place with sound. The groom came down the aisle first with a very stylized, purposeful walk, arms folded behind his back. The groomsmen and bridesmaids came down together, the men wearing simple suits, while the women wore stunning, spaghetti-strapped, cobalt blue dresses that simply brought out the beauty in each of them. Oh, I have to mention the flowers here. Last year, when Beth's older brother Scott got married to Marianne, the girls simply went out and made their own bouquets, picking wildflowers along the side of the road. Beth wanted to do the same, so we sent them out to the farm of one of our church couples, ironically also named Scott and Mariann. Well, Mariann was Martha Stewart before Martha was, and she supplied them with flowers and ideas of every sort, as well as peacock plumes from the birds they have on their property. The men's bootineers (I got tired of trying to spell that correctly) were also made from the feathers, and were quite unique.
As the bride came down the aisle with her dad, the trumpet voluntary began, with brother Colin volunteering at the trumpet. Dang, that kid is good. Beth was radiant in her hand-made (she did it herself) dress that looked as though it came straight from Lord of the Rings, which is undoubtedly what she had in mind. Yes, I started to cry, happy? The rest was your typical wedding...he did, she did, with this ring, with that ring, I now pronounce, smoochie, smoochie. Okay, it was a bit more involved, since there was also communion, but there were no glitches, no flower girls or ring bearers stealing the show, it was just sweet, if not all that short.
As we were all being row-by-row dismissed, I saw (and stopped to hug) Beth's old roomie, then as I passed the door that led down to the reception hall, Karen stuck her head out and said, "It's here, and it's gorgeous!" Great. Let 'em eat cake!
There were more pictures to be taken now, but the rest of us went down and started the ceremony of eating! Now was our turn to shine. People oohed and aahed over the spread and dug right in. The punch wowed as well, and we just smugly sat back and beamed at a job finally done (okay, there was still the cleaning). The bride and groom soon ventured and started their rounds of hugging and kissing. Then an interesting thing occurred: one of the bridesmaids looked at the cake and whispered to EB, "Uh, is it supposed to be leaning like that?" Sure enough, it had developed a Pisa-esque inclination of virtually toppling-over proportions. Eilene grabbed her hand (Fitting that it was Eilene.....I-lean....get it? get it? Whew! Tough crowd!) and they immediately started the cutting process. Sure, Beth and TI were supposed to cut into it first, and once the cake was stabilized (sounds like "ER"), they came over and did their cutting and feeding schpiel. Ah, good, no cake-in-the-face smooshing. I guess in looking back, it's a good thing the cake arrived so late! Otherwise, it surely would've fallen over during the ceremony, which would not have been a classic Martha Stewart "Good Thing" moment.
Well, it's midnight, so we'll finish with the "Afterglow" in the next couple of days.
