Not much of a
post today … still recovering from a very hectic three-day weekend (only to be
launched, frying-pan-to-fire style, into a very hectic workweek). One of my sisters-in-law got married this
past Saturday, and the little ones and the wife were part of the wedding party.
Fortunately, I
was left alone for large parts of the weekend (thank you Mo!)
Anyway, we drove
the seven hours down to an colonial Old Southern house nestled in the middle of
the Virginian thickets Friday, arriving in time for the pre-party party that evening. The house itself, where we of the bridal
party were staying, was over 200 years old.
Creaky timber floorboards, winding narrow staircases, sliding wood doors,
fire pits, and lots and lots of books on bookshelves gave it its mystique. Sushi was served and the spirits flowed
(though I behaved myself). The girls had
a blast amongst the 50 or 60 guests.
After tiring a bit from all the stimuli, I went up a winding staircase
to our bedroom and read the forty or so pages of C. P. Snow’s introduction to
G. H. Hardy’s A Mathematician’s Apology.
The night ended
with drizzly rain, which fortunately drizzled on off by Saturday morning,
though the skies remained overcast most of the day. And after brunch, most of the morning held
frantic bridesmaids frantically getting prepared (my sister-in-law seemed very
calm, cool and collected, as she always has).
I got dressed in my suit by 10 and finished Hardy’s short book (some
thoughts on that later in the week).
After pictures, we all headed out a half-hour’s drive to the Inn where
the ceremony would take place and dinner would be had.
And what a
high-classy affair it was, very reminiscent, if I may be so bold, as my own
wedding over 13 years ago, only more so.
Five courses, one of the best fish meals I’ve ever had, one of the best
desserts I’ve ever had, a frommagier (sp?) serving up world-class cheeses (I
didn’t know such a thing existed), a real live jazz band headed by a real live
jazz singer with a recording contract.
The rain held out and the temperature dropped to that Platonic Form of a
perfect October night. I walked out into
a dark field, the party a bright light in the distance, in quiet
meditation. I came back and danced with
the wife to our wedding song, Sinatra’s “I’ve Got You Under My Skin.” I wrangled the girls, as well as compliments
about them from many of the guests.
Around 10 the Inn lit up a bonfire out in the courtyard and we toasted
marshmallows and made s’mores.
We brunched at
the colonial house on Sunday, then cleaned up and packed the SUV. Hit the road by 1 but didn’t get home until
8. (Due to the incessant construction, I
had opportunity to recycle my joke, “why can’t our route take us through states
that are already built!”) Stopped by a
pizzeria for a late Sunday dinner and to cleanse my palate of all the
first-class food I’ve been consuming, only to have that ruined by the New York
Giants proudly displaying to the entire world how not ready they are for prime
time this year.
Got my first
real sleep in three days last night, but that old alarm had to go and wake me
up at 5:58.
Maureen and
Jamie – congratulations and best wishes for a long, healthy, and happy
marriage!
1 comment:
What a great post and felt
the same way! What a great weekend! Xoxo to the newlyweds!
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