An Up Nort' Wedding

Well, I need to start by saying we had a great time at a beautiful wedding this past weekend. About a sneeze away from the Canadian border, we were officially "up nort.'" The bride and groom were beautiful and the ceremony was meaningful. As the priest talked about the action of loving, I often glanced up at my DH, a handsome groomsman near the altar. I'm happy to say that yes, I am most certainly still in love with my hubby. I've learned the hard way that that isn't always the case.

Getting to the wedding was an adventure - treacherous (and I mean really really horribly icy)roads and a missed turn in the middle of a po-dunk town in the center of no-where, I arrived at the church with about five minutes to spare. I'd planned for a good hour of hair prep time prior to the wedding, so needless to say, I had a mess on my hands. But, on the less icy patches of roadway, I dressed in my 2-piece floor-length gown. I somehow managed to get my hair up into some makeshift chopsticks (a pretty silver ink pen - now my secret is out). And believe it or not, I made up my face with no mirror.

When I breezed into the church basement moments before the wedding, I enjoyed seeing my DH's amazed face - he'd expected me to look as disheveled as I did when I left in the early morning hours to bring our babies to the sitters. I discreetly asked him to help me unzip so I could quickly slip on a bra, and then up the stairs I raced. The last one seated before the parents were escorted in, I'd made it. Good thing, since I needed to read the readings.

For the first time in a long time, the couple chose readings that weren't the same ones you hear at every wedding. It was rather refreshing. After the lovely ceremony, they rushed out into the back seat of some fancied-up old car. Their driver took them out to a boat landing, and the party followed. The driver (as well as a good number of locals) proceeded to whip cookies around in the snow. If you could forget that most of the vehicles were over-sized man trucks with beer stickers and "Git R Dun" bumper stickers, it was almost graceful. In a warped kind of way.

Not long after, the bride and groom hopped onto their sleds (snowmobiles - to my non-Northern readers). Wearing her beautiful satin, beaded gown and a lovely fur stole (and long johns and snowboots beneath), the bride was hootin' and hollerin' and having a ball. The adventure had most certainly begun.

I hear babies waking, so I'll cut this short. Watch for the continued story tomorrow. Good night, all.