Wedding Recap

So at last, the wedding!

I drove up last Thursday intending to help the cowgirl with whatever last little details needed to get done before The Big Day on Saturday. Turned out that involved staying up til I don't remember what time, tying raffia onto 200+ little jars of honey (the wedding favors). If you think that doesn't sound like a big deal, you either have no idea what raffia is (hello, male readers!) or you are much better at tying raffia than I will ever be (hello, cowgirl!).

But anyway, we got it done eventually and went to bed, grateful at last for some rest... until we were woken up at about 5:30 a.m. by the dulcet sounds of a rooster crowing. Over and over again. Judging by the volume, I'd have said he was right under our pillows. Luckily for him, he wasn't.

We had hair appointments that day, which included my first haircut since I had to shave it all off back in March. After that, the hours flew by in a whirlwind of manicures, pedicures, a Michael Jackson TV tribute show, the rehearsal, the rehearsal dinner and more raffia. No, I'm kidding about the raffia. At least I think I am. It was all a bit of a blur by that point.

The day of the wedding dawned nice and clear. I know this because I was pretty much up at dawn (again), thanks to our friendly neighborhood rooster. The cowgirl expressed her enthusiasm for being awake at such a godly hour as follows:



Also pictured is my sister-in-law (left) who, not long after this photo was taken, proceeded to get all domestic and make monkey bread for everyone. This, frankly, amazed me. I mean, not only would it not occur to me to start baking before I was even properly awake myself, but it would not occur to me to bake anytime, anywhere, period. And even if by some incredible miracle it did, I'd have no trouble restraining myself and saying instead, "Make your own monkey bread, people." (I suspect these are reasons #456-458 why the frogg is still single, by the way.)

Here's some of the gang, enjoying the (deliciously gooey) results of my sister-in-law's labors:



Next it was time for hair and makeup. First it was my other beautiful sister's turn:



And now here's the cowgirl, curlers and all:



As we were all prettying ourselves (not that I'm saying we needed to, of course), outside everything was getting set up:





This picture was just too classic:



Here's me and the cowgirl:



We had a sandwich tray, but apparently that wasn't enough for me:



Yummy flowers! But hey, if I could have snuck some of the cake (and cupcakes!) early, I would have:



The finishing touches:



After that, I don't have much in the way of pictures, seeing as how I was kind of in the wedding. But I can tell you everything went off beautifully. Well, OK, there was one snag at the beginning. The cowgirl had had the brilliant idea of surprising the groom by arriving with her attendants in the back of a horse-drawn wagon. This was cool in theory. In practice, it left something to be desired; namely, the idea actually working. As soon as the wagon in which we were riding entered the wedding site, the wagon wheels sank into the slightly muddy lawn, and the horses (who were not what you'd call spring chickens) decided they really weren't being paid enough for the gig, and just gave up. Unfortunately (or fortunately, I suppose), most of the guests couldn't really see us from where they were, so no one had a clue what was going on. I'm not even sure they saw the horses.

Another snag involved the unity candles and the wind, and if I have to explain why candles and wind don't mix, then we're all in trouble.

There was also the loud train whistle that blasted through the air during a song performance and continued into the pastor's talk. But in the grand scheme of things, these hiccups were so minor. And to her credit, the cowgirl did not dissolve into Bridezilla-esque hysterics. I think she was actually relieved in a way that things went wrong. It brought some humor into the proceedings, and that's always good.

The rest of the evening went extremely well. Lots of dancing and, at one point, what looked like chicken fighting. Fun times! Also, not to toot my own horn or anything, but I would just like to say that I probably gave the only toast in the history of toasting that included the words, "castrated a pig."

Oh, and just for the record, yours truly did catch the bouquet. But don't get your hopes up for anything — I also caught it at my aunt's wedding when I was 11.