Sunday, October 12, 2008

My brother is safely married.

We got to the ceremony location in plenty of time. Too much time. My cousin and his family had announced that they were coming to use our hotel room to get dressed. Under these circumstances, I thought it would be a good idea to get dressed and out of their way. So we did.

There was much hanging around.

We made it safely through the ceremony. I did a reading--don't ask me what I said, because I can't really remember.

The reception was OK but there was a little too much standing around in high heeled shoes. OK, that was my problem, not my husband's or my children's, but still. Some more chairs would have been nice.

One of my brother's oldest friends--a woman who has been married for 31 years--asked my son to dance. That was weird, but in a good way.

We left at 9:00. I didn't have any cake.

It's official. I've become an old fart.


  1. No cake?! Why, that's the reward for going through the whole wedding ordeal!

    Well, that and champagne.

  2. NO CAKE?

    But, that's the only reason to slug through yet another reading of, "Love is patient, love is kind..."

  3. This wedding wasn't at Willowbend was it? Because I know someone who was going to a wedding down there in that this weekend...not that I even really know YOU but still, small world and all of that.

    Painful shoes? Lack of chairs? I would've left early too. Although, I might've taken a slice of cake to go.


Gentle Readers:

For the time being, I've turned off comment moderation. Please don't spam; it's not nice.

xxx, Poppy.