Several weeks ago I mentioned a wedding being held in our backyard. Crazy as it sounds, we pulled it off with – well, maybe a hitch or two, but I’m hoping none of the hundred or so hipster, artist, bohemian guests noticed.
We worked for weeks getting our yard in decent shape. My son, the groom, kept telling us it was fine: everything was fine with him, as is the nature of hipster, artist, bohemian types. He is truly an easy kid – uh, excuse me, man! No bridezilla or groomzilla to deal with at the circus; nope, they were “chill.”
“Chill,” as you probably can figure out, means comfortable with the situation.
The sweet little bride kept saying things were perfect. I was relieved she thought so.
Turns out I forgot to do a few things. Not the kind of things that anyone would really notice but things I discovered later I had forgotten. For instance, the floating candles I got for our little fountain? They were at the bottom of a box. I didn’t get around to making that wreath for the catwalk over the swings, and the fleece throws I purchased for people to use in case of chilly weather were still in the bag.
It was chilly alright, but most of the guests wore appropriate clothing.There was even a young man in a faux fur coat (remember who we are dealing with here). Hipster, artist, boho types live in cool comfort.
The bride was stunning; she looked as if she stepped out of a Bride’s Magazine circa 1975. She wore a beautiful gauzy, flowing dress and a flower crown that I proudly made myself.
The groom wore maroon denim with suspenders and Vans (skater sneakers); his white shirt and black tie completed the ensemble.
My beloved performed the ceremony, and, in his typical style, he delivered with sweetness and humor. We only cried a little, and we laughed a little too.
Our precious 4-year-old granddaughter was the flower girl. Her mom sent us a video of her practicing. She demonstrated how she was going to “frow the pet-tals over here and over there,” and she promised to tickle the ringbearer if he was too shy to walk down the aisle.She was adorable, as always, and took a seat on the stage to watch while our 5-year-old grandson, the shy ringbearer, delivered a glass box that indeed held the rings to his uncle/best man and proceeded straight to the treehouse, where he sat for the remainder of the service.
When it was all said and done, we had a new daughter and everyone was happy.
My only regret was not being able to invite my friends. Our venue was small, and the guest list was too. If I had my way we would have invited the whole town!
Oh well, maybe next time – we only have four more weddings to go.
Angie Brown is a humorist who loves being a wife, mother and grandmother. She lives in Opelika with her husband of 31 years and four of their seven children.