"The Shoveler is hammered!"
- The Shoveler, Mystery Men
I was out to a wedding yesterday, an old friend I've known for 28 years. But I guess over the later years I haven't seen as much of am as I used to, which meant I hadn't got a chance to meet his fiance and now wife till the wedding yesterday.
It was a really lovely ceremony, even I a jaded cynic, can not deny that. The dress was gorgeous, the girl in it turned out to be lovely as well! One of the page boys was over excited and rushed off to the front of the church soon as the bridal party arrived with his ring cushion and had to be retrieved and taken back to wait.
Now the important part of any wedding, the reception, a chance to have a drink or three. It was held at the Cataract Bistro, the very modern looking building adjacent to the TRC Hotel. Food was lovely, I had a slow roasted tomato, boccacini and basil tart with onion jam to start, the other popular choice seemed to be the Chicken Salad which Miss Stash had.
I don't care what she says though, my tart was so the best starter on that menu!
Main I had the rolled chicken breast stuffed with Persian feta and sun dried tomato on a Parmesan risotto cake I think it was meant to be. The chicken had been wrapped in bacon, but I disassembled mine cause I really don't like that much bacon looking at me. Blerch!
Other mains included fish (trevalla or trevally? trevalla I think?) which was one of my mother's favourites, and steak which the men at our table all seemed to order....
Dessert was a berry merangue or steamed pudding, the merangue seemed to be the popular choice all round, waitresses were dashing round the room with armfuls of plates with the merangues on them. It was delicious, my one complaint my crispy outside fell off, and when I tried to spoon it up completly disintergrated, so mostly I ate a giant marshmallowy mound topped with berry cream. Yum!
Drank quite a bit of wine during the evening, I was sozzled by the end of the night I will admit, but I had a fantastic time, and better still didn't publicly shame anyone. I was in a warm wine induced fuzz, so I didn't I have the motivation to do or say anything outrageous.
I wasn't allowed to buy a funny weddding card. Oh well, I guess that will still be a surprise, when they open the cards and the one from me isn't a funny one.
Of course there were the obligatory speeches, and they where all a reasonable length and funny. They get my stamp of approval.
The bridal waltz, they'd rehearsed leading up to the wedding, but not in the wedding clothes. So there we are a roomful of people watching the bridal waltz, collective agreement they look lovely and are lovely. Then rip! Yes the groom had stood on the dress, a collective ohhhhhhh!
I spoke to him after the waltz, I and I think everyone else he spoke to after the waltz, heard about the dress incident, he was kind of wound up and telling everybody about it.
Also had the chance to talk to a couple of people I haven't seen in forever, we all went to primary school with the groom. One of them's now married with four kids, the eldest was 8 and the youngest is 8 months. And the two inbetween, 5 and 3, I think. And it occurs to me now, while I asked how old they all where I didn't ask her if they where girls or boys, I know the first one was a girl.
Well I did say this was the day after in my title, well I woke up at 5:30 this morning and couldn't get back to sleep, an hour of my muttering, changing sides of the bed and rearranging the covers, the Daft White Cat had had enough. He left the room.
But he was back 15 mins later, obviously thought up a way to annoy me, charged in, jumped up on the chair by the window and pulled the curtain back flooding the room with light.
I conceded defeat and the bed.
Wide awake and restless on a Sunday morning. Write a blog post, hmmm, hasn't taken long? Now what? Maybe make some breakfast, yes, I'm starving, I haven't eaten since last night.
There's always knitting, I have become a one-project woman, and it has worked, well sort of. I have only one project I'm focusing on, but now I kind of resent it, so progress is just as slow as if I was doing 20 projects. Blah!