Let's get ready to ramble
And we’re back from a flying trip north for the medieval wedding of the year. It went surprisingly well.
We flew out on Friday morning. I was, as ever, thrilled that Virgin Blue have a policy of playing “Life is a Highway” every time I get on one of their planes. Cherub coped with his first flight remarkably well and Bundle giggled all through take off which can only be a good thing.
We had lunch with Honey Bear’s father, drove across town to pick up a portacot from a friend, stopped to buy groceries (and I remembered everything on the list except nappies because I’m just that smart) and drove so much further across town that we ended up out the other side at our final destination for the day, Honey Bear’s sister’s property.
And we stopped for a minute.
Bundle was in for a busy weekend with his two cousins, both boys. After a few minutes of shyness, he saw their train set and from there everything was completely fine. Cherub also enjoyed the train set, but more for chewing on than for building and stuff.
Saturday morning started at some appallingly early hour. You know it’s too early when the roosters start crowing after you get up, but it is a pleasant sound if you are not trying to sleep through it.
I’m not sure exactly where most of Saturday went, although I seemed to spend most of it in a giant inflatable pool playing the elbow game with my nephews. Then it was time to dry off and suit up (in chain mail) and drive back into town for the wedding. Honey Bear was in the wedding party so we got there two hours early. This caused some small concern when I discovered that none of the family members or friends of the bride were in any way dressed according to the theme, and they all looked at me like I was a complete nut, which may be true but not because of the chainmail thing.
Fortunately, they all eventually got into their armour/ monk’s outfit/ selection of medieval dresses and all was well. At least half of the 30 guests ended up in costume, which is not too bad really.
After rocking the couple’s two week old daughter to sleep (which made me go temporarily insane with cluckiness but I’m better now) and moving a few tables and stuff, it was time for the wedding to begin. Despite my initial concerns about the wackiness of the whole thing, it was absolutely beautiful, and amazingly well planned considering that the groom has no organisational skills at all and the bride had been rather busy giving birth just recently. Despite all that, the vows, which they wrote themselves, were lovely and when the groom’s father read an Irish blessing at the end of the ceremony there was barely a dry eye in the place.
From the ceremony, it was straight to the reception, which was also in the backyard of the groom’s parent’s house. It was a wonderfully relaxed and informal evening, with speeches from anyone who wanted to make one, including, surprisingly, the caterer. One of my favourite moments of the night came when the groom’s father tried to give the caterer a bottle of champagne to say thank you but the unopened bottle he grabbed off the table turned out to be Passion Pop.
This is what happens when the bride and therefore half the guests are around 19 years old.
For me, the highlight of the night came when after three excellent speeches from the best man, the bridesmaid and the groom, it was the bride’s turn. She said “I haven’t planned a speech and I’m not getting up because I’m too tired. [raises glass] To booze!”
Fabulous.
We wandered back to the farm to find two children already in bed. Also fabulous.
Sunday passed in a whirl of more roosters, returning the portacot, coffee with one of Honey Bear’s oldest friends, another plane flight, a quiet drive home from the airport and then a pleasant hour spent sitting in the car in my carport with a good book, a cup of coffee and two sleeping children.
It’s Wednesday and I’m still exhausted. But I own a suit of armour which is really something I will never get tired of saying. Ever.
We flew out on Friday morning. I was, as ever, thrilled that Virgin Blue have a policy of playing “Life is a Highway” every time I get on one of their planes. Cherub coped with his first flight remarkably well and Bundle giggled all through take off which can only be a good thing.
We had lunch with Honey Bear’s father, drove across town to pick up a portacot from a friend, stopped to buy groceries (and I remembered everything on the list except nappies because I’m just that smart) and drove so much further across town that we ended up out the other side at our final destination for the day, Honey Bear’s sister’s property.
And we stopped for a minute.
Bundle was in for a busy weekend with his two cousins, both boys. After a few minutes of shyness, he saw their train set and from there everything was completely fine. Cherub also enjoyed the train set, but more for chewing on than for building and stuff.
Saturday morning started at some appallingly early hour. You know it’s too early when the roosters start crowing after you get up, but it is a pleasant sound if you are not trying to sleep through it.
I’m not sure exactly where most of Saturday went, although I seemed to spend most of it in a giant inflatable pool playing the elbow game with my nephews. Then it was time to dry off and suit up (in chain mail) and drive back into town for the wedding. Honey Bear was in the wedding party so we got there two hours early. This caused some small concern when I discovered that none of the family members or friends of the bride were in any way dressed according to the theme, and they all looked at me like I was a complete nut, which may be true but not because of the chainmail thing.
Fortunately, they all eventually got into their armour/ monk’s outfit/ selection of medieval dresses and all was well. At least half of the 30 guests ended up in costume, which is not too bad really.
After rocking the couple’s two week old daughter to sleep (which made me go temporarily insane with cluckiness but I’m better now) and moving a few tables and stuff, it was time for the wedding to begin. Despite my initial concerns about the wackiness of the whole thing, it was absolutely beautiful, and amazingly well planned considering that the groom has no organisational skills at all and the bride had been rather busy giving birth just recently. Despite all that, the vows, which they wrote themselves, were lovely and when the groom’s father read an Irish blessing at the end of the ceremony there was barely a dry eye in the place.
From the ceremony, it was straight to the reception, which was also in the backyard of the groom’s parent’s house. It was a wonderfully relaxed and informal evening, with speeches from anyone who wanted to make one, including, surprisingly, the caterer. One of my favourite moments of the night came when the groom’s father tried to give the caterer a bottle of champagne to say thank you but the unopened bottle he grabbed off the table turned out to be Passion Pop.
This is what happens when the bride and therefore half the guests are around 19 years old.
For me, the highlight of the night came when after three excellent speeches from the best man, the bridesmaid and the groom, it was the bride’s turn. She said “I haven’t planned a speech and I’m not getting up because I’m too tired. [raises glass] To booze!”
Fabulous.
We wandered back to the farm to find two children already in bed. Also fabulous.
Sunday passed in a whirl of more roosters, returning the portacot, coffee with one of Honey Bear’s oldest friends, another plane flight, a quiet drive home from the airport and then a pleasant hour spent sitting in the car in my carport with a good book, a cup of coffee and two sleeping children.
It’s Wednesday and I’m still exhausted. But I own a suit of armour which is really something I will never get tired of saying. Ever.
posted by I'm not Craig at 8:17 PM
4 Comments:
Whoa! That all sounds way super cool. The wedding and surrounding festive bits all sound simple but memorable. Wedding planning genius!
I'm glad you had a good time and I can't promise that I won't ever ask to borrow said suit of armour (even if it doesn't have a shield - sigh).
I can't wait for the First Annual I'm Not Craig and Medical Graduation Ceremony in Medieval Costume Under A Tree In Botswana meeting.
I did have a lovely comment, but I've now been distracted by a ninja who sounds suspiciously like an adam.
And a lala who just might be a bit of a snickers afficiondo. I thought it was men who were from MARS!
hmmmmm.
By the way, inc! Chain mail will NEVER go out of fashion.
INC,
I used to fly Virgin Blue a bit - they must know I'm one of your fans because they played it when I got on the plane as well!
What exactly is "the elbow game"?
This post also reminds me I haven't done my "wedding post" yet. So many stupid stories (mine, not yours), so little time.
Ninja-who-is-clearly-Adam
You are absolutely welcome to borrow the suit of armour at any time.
I still need to know. WHICH TREE?
Meva
I had to read this twice (and then read the Ninja/Lala blog) before I understood it.
But you're probably right.
Giggles
Hurry up with that wedding post.
The elbow game was rather recently invented by my 8 year old nephew. The idea is that he and his little brother would try to tag me on the elbow without me tagging them (on, yes, the elbow). When you play this in a swimming pool with a ploystyrene noodle and two soccer balls it gets surprisingly complicated and it may continue for hours.
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