The Real Beginning

Perhaps this is where I should have started my recaps. The ceremony. The ritual. The moment of marriage. For us, the ceremony was so much more than a prelude to the reception. It was (and is) the time when our promises were made real. It was (and is) the crux of our wedding and the beginning of our marriage. Yes. This is the real beginning.

We started with a welcome and a prayer. And then, because we originate from a place of “yes,” we began the affirmations. I am a woman, a feminist, and an adult; I am no one’s gift to give away. But it was exceedingly important to my father and stepfather that they have the opportunity to affirm their support for the marriage. They did. Then the Mister and I affirmed that we intended to enter into the covenant of marriage, and we said our “I dos.” Right at the outset. Do you take this man? Do you take this woman? Yes. We do. Finally, we asked the congregation if they would give their encouragement. They did too.

Next, a bit more tradition and heritage. While I will always remain a part of my own family, I wanted to make an outward sign that I joined with my Mister’s family. So, in the ancient Scottish tradition, my mother in law, Momma Mac, pinned the Mister’s family tartan on my dress.

After which our celebrant read this prayer of thanksgiving by ee cummings:

i thank You God for most this amazing day:
for the leaping greenly spirits of trees and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything which is natural which is infinite which is yes

I’m going to interrupt the recap to give some unsolicited advice. Choose your celebrant wisely. Pick someone you love and who loves you. Someone who knows you. Someone truly extraordinary for an extraordinary moment in your lives. I realize that very few people in the world could have a celebrant like ours. You see, we didn’t pick a celebrant who happened to be our friend. We were blessed to have a friend who happened to be a celebrant to perform the sacrament of our marriage. And that, dear readers, is how we ended up with the most beautiful sermon I couldn’t have imagined. It included elements like this:

I’m going to ask you to turn around and just take in the view that I see – all the faces of people who have joined both of you in this celebration of marriage. These are the people who have been with you and will continue to be with you, as you start this new life together.

Sometimes when I look out over the congregation, I imagine that the pews don’t stop at the church doors, but keep going and going and are filled with people, so I invite you to look past these sanctuary walls and to see the pews extending back and back, and see how they are filled with all the people who have gathered here for you: all the people who have ever loved you, all those who have shown you kindness, all those who have fought for your freedom and for justice, all those who have taught you and comforted you and been your friend, throughout the generations.

I invite you to see your brothers, seated in a pew, happy and glad for all you have become and will be together. These are the people in your life, the ones who will guide you in your marriage to each other. Take a good look at them, for they are here because they love you.

People always say to take a moment. To really experience the wedding ceremony. To take a deep breath. To let the love of your friends and family wash over you. In all the excitement, I would have forgotten to do just that, had our celebrant not reminded us. But when she did remind us, time stopped. The room was fairly glowing with love. Bright and shining and warm and comforting. It was the essence of Ahhhhhh.

And then. Then! We said our vows. Which we wrote together.

I choose you
To be no other than yourself,
Loving what I know of you,
And trusting who you will become.
I will respect and honor you
Always and in all ways.
With you I pledge to repair
One small piece of the world.
I take you to be my spouse,
To have and to hold,
In tears and in laughter,
In sickness and in health,
To love and to cherish,
From this day forward,
In this world and the next.

We wanted to pledge something that was more than now. We wanted to acknowledge all that we did not yet know. We wanted to use traditional words, but add modern feelings. Because we have lost loved ones, for whom and from whom we still feel so much love, we wanted to promise a love that went beyond “until death do us part.” And my very favorite part of our vows? All the Mister’s idea – to pledge to repair the world. There is no greater healing than that.

We know that not everyone shares our spiritual beliefs, and we respect differences out in the world and here in our own communities and families. But for us, the marriage ceremony included God. And so we had communion. We had to fight with the church lady about the logistics. We wanted to be served last, after every single one of our guests had the opportunity to partake. She argued and wheedled and moved things around. But we stuck to our guns. And in the end, it worked just as we knew it should. It. Was. Right.

After all the solemn words and promises, it was time for a huge helping of joy with more than a sprinkle of humor. Our celebrant pronounced us husband and wife, we kissed (and kissed!), and the organist launched into our recessional. The Hallelujah Chorus. I can’t imagine a happier husband, a more cheerful wife, or a merrier congregation. To see people who have known sadness find true happiness? There were tears of joy and hoots of laughter. I may have even hopped up and down a bit. We sealed our marriage with mirth.

Amen.

Details, Details . . . .

Wedding planners and coordinators and magazines (oh my!) say nowadays that details are the key to a good wedding. And when Super Tall Girl and I arrived at the church, we began setting up the little ceremony details we had prepared in advance. Programs:

Pinwheels (printed with the words of our vows). We put the paper pinwheels onto pencils that were themselves printed with whimsical axioms like, “Write Your Own Love Story,” and “A Whirlwind Romance.” And we put the finished products into recycled paper-ream box lids that we covered in fabric and filled with Spanish moss):

Vintage Hankies given by Mama, two Aunties, and Super Tall Girl:

A guestbook, nearly every page of which had a photograph of family members on their wedding day. And snapshot cards that told guests how to upload their photos on smugmug.com. We also made little stand-up cards that explained all of the other little details and cards. Overkill? Probably. But they were pretty little overkills, no?

The fascinator in my hair I made from feathers and French netting:

And I made my necklace from coin pearls that looked like full moons. The pearls symbolized my twin brother, whose nickname was “Mr. Moon” when we were little. (Mine was “Little Miss Sunshine”).

The flowers in my bouquet, above, were lilies of the valley, which symbolize a return to happiness. They are sometimes also called Jacob's Ladder, and Jacob was my twin brother's name.

I made my veil from an embroidered piece of organza from the fabric store and a plastic comb. Several people asked if it was vintage. But it was just homemade. It probably cost $15. But it felt like it was worth a million, because the embroidery was of shamrocks to symbolize the day the Mister and I got engaged – St. Patrick’s Day:

I made tartan rosette pins for every woman member of my mother’s clan and the Mister’s clan. Momma Mac, my MIL, pinned her tartan on my dress to symbolize that I joined her clan during the ceremony:

Sure, the weddingers say that details are the key to a good wedding. And I'm so glad I made them, because adding symbolism to an already meaningful ritual adds depth. And (to be honest) making things just plain makes me happy.

But our details were merely the outward expression of the inner love the Mister and I felt for each other, our guests, and the joyful occasion of the day. The only real detail I needed that day was the man I married. So don't be pressured to DIY or include a details that aren't your style or speed.

You and YOUR mister: express yourselves. BE yourselves. The you-ness of it all is what you will cherish, and what your guests will remember. I promise.

Isn't That Special?

Well! Those of you who were adamantly against a receiving line of any sort at the ceremony have got your wish. We met with the Church Lady last night.


She isn’t a bad lady – just . . . rigid. The Mister and I firmly believe that the ceremony is the single most important part of the wedding. Not the cake. Not the flowers. The vows. So we spent a lot of time tailoring the ceremony to reflect the realities of our families (my family mostly) and the depth of our relationship with each other and with God. Our meeting last night seems to indicate we’re the first people ever to do this at our church.

As a brief aside, this wedding isn’t the first time my family has switched things up a bit in the church to reflect the realities of a situation. I’ve mentioned before that my twin brother died eight years ago. Apparently, his funeral was the first in the church to openly acknowledge that the death was by suicide. Until then, people had just used the euphemism, “He died suddenly.” While it was certainly difficult to be that open, my family felt that it was the best way to help shine a light on the dark world of suicide by encouraging open discussion. It was the right decision for us.

So, back to the meeting with the Church Lady (“CL”). First, we spent some time explaining that we had a mixed bridal party. A woman (Super Tall Girl) and a man (my Mantron of Honor) will stand up on my side, and a man (the Mister’s brother) and a woman (the lady who introduced us) will stand up on the Mister’s side. CL kept calling my side, “The Girls.” My Mantron of Honor is very secure in his masculinity, so I’m not worried. But it cracks me up that he WORKS AT THE CHURCH, and she still wouldn’t recognize his role.

Next step: The Parents. I’ve got all kinds of ‘em. And I decided early on to treat everybody as equals. This has caused no end of friction. In fact, I haven’t blogged about it, because it’s too delicate an issue. But trust me. This is important. CL wanted my stepmother to be seated before the ceremony began, rather than with the family. And she paled visibly when I said that both my father and stepdad were going to walk me down the aisle. Um, I know that traditionally there was no role for the stepparents. But that’s when it was traditional to have only one set of parents. My parents divorced when I was six. My stepparents have contributed immeasurably to raising me. They WILL NOT be treated as second class citizens. Not now. Not on the wedding day. Not ever. ‘Nuff said.

The Mister lost his temper when CL told him that, “There is no photography during the wedding ceremony.” He called the rule rude (I think he was going to say bulls**t), and got all red in the face. CL then softened this unequivocal statement by adding that the photographer can take photos from the choir loft without a flash. I pointed out the futility of the rule, since tons of guests bring cameras and take photos (with flash) throughout the ceremony. But I got over it. And the Mister fumed. On to the last issue.

When we asked about leaving the church after the ceremony, CL informed us that the church “doesn’t permit receiving lines” of any kind. Including releasing the rows. Whaaa? We go to the fanciest-schmantziest church in the city, where everything is too, too proper, and receiving lines are verboten? Seriously? Miss Manners would have a conniption.

Fortunately, the Mister, our minister, and I had been discussing a receiving line alternative over the past week or so, whereby we would release the rows of guests as they go to communion. This would allow us to see every guest even more quickly than a receiving line, because it would be during the ceremony. And the guests would be asked to respect the sanctity of communion by remaining silent. This is perhaps the newest idea we’ve had so far. Plenty of people have had mixed bridal parties and stepparents participating in the ceremony. Maybe not in our church, but they’re not uncommon these days. But releasing the rows for communion – now that’s different.

CL didn’t attempt to hide her disdain. “Leaving the front of the sanctuary during the service? Well . . . that’s just . . . wrong!” And so, our minister came to the rescue. She suggested that the Mister and I stand near where people came forward to take communion, so we could smile at each person. It’s the perfect compromise (and the quickest receiving line option in the universe).

So all you anti-receiving line folks out there, you got your wish. And all I’ve got to say about it is, “Well, isn’t that special?”

Receiving Lines are Like Lawyers

Miss Manners says that the bride and the groom must greet every guest at the wedding. When you have invited a jillion people, however, it’s pretty doggone difficult to figure out a way to greet everyone in a sincere but efficient way.

The Mister and I would like to enjoy the reception, which means enjoying our guests. It does not, however, mean being cornered at the reception by Crazy Aunt Talksalot, who wants to tell us all about her hemorrhoids. We want to be hospitable and gracious, but we also want to have a moment or two to enjoy the day and to eat our own dinners. (I get grouchy when I don’t eat, which would lead to me telling Aunt Talksalot where to stick her hemorrhoids, if you know what I mean.)

As far as I can tell, there are five basic options to greet the guests:
1. A traditional receiving line, with parents and the bridal party included.
2. Just the bride and the groom at the back of the ceremony, greeting guests.
3. Reentering the ceremony to release the rows of guests one by one.
4. Going around from table to table at the reception.
5. Randomly seeing people at the reception, without any plan to get to everybody.

My entire experience at weddings involves waiting to greet the bride and groom. Whether it’s in a receiving line at the ceremony, being released by rows, or searching the dark reception for a flash of white dress, this waiting seems to take forever. I will admit that forever is slightly more bearable when I’ve got a canapé in my mouth and a glass of wine in my hand, but forever it is. The Mister and I didn’t know what to do.

So we took a poll of friends and family. What did they do? How long did it take them? What would they do differently? Here’s what I learned.

Receiving lines are like lawyers. People hate lawyers, but they love their own. Most people looooved whatever method they used at their own weddings, and they haaaated every other method that anyone else has ever tried.

There were a few exceptions, however. Several people who went table to table at the reception did not have a chance to eat dinner or enjoy the party. They wished that they had used option 1, 2, or 3. These are the people who got corned by Aunt Talksalot. And Uncle Gripey.

If only we could combine the concepts – instead of communion, we could serve canapés and real wine (rather than the crangrape juice I swear our church serves). “This bruchetta is the body of Christ, and by the way, we loved the toaster!” But I digress. Into blasphemy.

Here’s our decision. We are NOT doing option #1. People want to see us, and briefly. All four of my parents have the gift of gab, and if they were included in the receiving line, we’d be there until my next birthday. We are NOT doing option #5. I’m sure it works very well when you have a small or medium sized wedding, but at a biggun, it’s well nigh impossible. Besides, we want to make the effort affirmatively to thank each person for coming.

If it’s sunny, we’ll stand at the back of the ceremony to greet guests as they head outside to wait for our grand getaway. That way, if they are dying to go to the bathroom (or just don’t really want to say hello to us), they can slip out of the receiving line to do what they’ve gotta do. If it’s raining, however, we need a place for people to congregate out of the elements. That’s in the back of the ceremony where we would do the receiving line on a sunny day. So if Mother Nature doesn’t cooperate, we’ll reenter the ceremony to release the rows. That way, people can remain seated until we get to their row, so they’ll be more comfortable.

For those of you who were rooting for option #4, may I make a suggestion? A few well-chosen items from your hotel mini bar would recreate the canapé-and-wine feeling you’d get while waiting to see us at the reception. And if you don’t want the procedure to take forever, leave your hemorrhoid stories at home. (wink!)

(P.S. The picture in this post is of a branch of the Mister's family. His beloved grandfather is third from the left, no doubt thinking that wedding photos take even longer than receving lines.)

Sticky Situation

After fretting for weeks about the who-walks-Jules-down-the-aisle conversations, they went great. Mr. Mama, with whom I lived growing up, was more than happy to share the honor(duty?) with Pop. And Pop graciously did the same, with nary a ruffled feather or word of complaint. Whew!

Then I started thinking about what would happen when we got down to the altar. The officiant usually says something like, “Who gives this woman to be married to this man?”

The tradition of giving the bride away apparently came from the days when marriage was as fiscal a transaction as a relational one. One set of parents was giving money to the other set, and the act of giving the bride away signified that the arrangements were complete. It also meant that the bride was no longer financially dependent on her parents, and was now dependent on the groom.

I am a feminist. And by that I mean that I try to differentiate the position of women from that of a doormat, to paraphrase Rebecca West. So I gave no small measure of thought to the idea of nixing the “Who gives this woman” part of the ceremony. First of all, I’m not a possession to be given away. I’m a person, for heaven’s sake! Second, to the extent I “belong” to my parents, they’re not giving me away--they can’t get rid of me that easily! They’re just marring me off. (Wink.) Finally, I’m not going to be dependent on my groom! I don’t like being dependent on anybody. (Does anyone else have trouble clicking on the “Submit” button on internet forms? Can’t the button say, “OK” or “Enter” or something?! I do NOT want to submit! (I guess that makes it clear whether we’re going to say “obey” in our vows.) Humph.)

source

But the Mister is nothing if he’s not traditional, and if I wasn’t going to say “obey,” he wanted the “who gives this woman” yadda yadda yadda in the ceremony. I do like tradition as much as the next gal . . . so I agreed.

But I wanted to change the response! “I give myself freely!” seemed just about right to me. It effectively says, “I own myself!” Mama and Pop were horrified. Horr. If. Fied! Apparently, the idea of a ukulele band was more palatable to them than me giving my own self away. They might not agree on much, but they backed each other up on this one. Who am I to fight this kind of parental unity?

Besides, I realized that this is their one really active role in the ceremony. I’m not doin’ the unity candle. If I take their speaking part, they might feel compelled to speak now rather than forever hold their peace, if you know what I mean.

OK. So what WAS the response going to be? I didn’t want to leave anyone out of the equation, so the usual, “Her mother and I do,” wasn’t going to cut it. I belong to Mr. Mama and Mrs. Pop as much as I do to Mama and Pop! If I’ve done nothing else in this blog, I hope I've made is abundantly clear. I also wanted to avoid the dads talking over each other or murmuring different things. So, with the help of Mama, I came up with a two main options:

Pop and Mr. Mama: We do.

Pop and Mr. Mama: Her parents do.

I pitched these to Pop, who murmured something about it not sounding very official. He doesn’t get to be too involved in the wedding planning. And this is his speaking part! He’s not the type to come up with ceremony wording, but he does like to vote on the options. So I called Mama to brainstorm. And she came up with a winner! Without further ado . . .

Officiant: Pop, do you and Mrs. Pop give this woman to be married to this man?
Pop: We do.
Officiant: Mr. Mama, do you and Mama give this woman to be married to this man?
Mr. Mama: We do.

Sticky situation . . . well . . . unstuck.

Link Between Earth and Sky

After my twin brother died, I had a dream. It was about designing and making jewelry in memory of him. I started a jewelry business and began selling my jewelry locally. This creative outlet helped me make something lovely out of my grief. Holidays, which were especially painful times without my twin, became times of anticipation and happiness. Just knowing that people were opening gifts of my jewelry from their loved ones made those days seem lighter and better.

I paired each piece of jewelry with a card bearing the meaning of the primary gemstone and a quotation that relates to the meaning. I hoped that the recipients of the jewelry would find meaning in their gems, but also in the world around them.

While I will never be fully healed from the loss of my twin, I have had a different sense of wholeness since I met the Mister. Instead of continuing to expand my jewelry business, I began to focus on building a life with him, which included planning our wedding. The wedding planning became a new creative outlet, and I focused less on my jewelry. Part of me even wondered whether the work of my jewelry was nearing completion.

This week, however, I received an email that reminded me why I design my jewelry and sell it in places where it can reach people I don’t even know.

Here is the email:

My Fiance (Charlie) purchased one of your necklaces for my birthday which was September 11, 2008. Our wedding was to be on November 15, 2008 and we are both Scottish so we were using the Celtic theme for the wedding. This necklace follows on that theme you could say. One of the things on the enclosed reading material really hits home more than ever, "The Tree collection contains wood, which symbolizes life. In the Celtic tradition, trees represent the bridge between earth and sky, between mankind and God." My Fiance died on September 20th in a hit and run accident, he was on his way to his second job to help with our wedding. This necklace means the world to me and I wear it everyday. I would like to get a similar necklace for Charlie’s sister.

This incredible woman is only a month from the loss of her fiancé (and less than a month until the day she was to marry him). Her pain must be acute and unfathomable. That the necklace represents her continued link with her beloved is amazingly, heartbreakingly beautiful. I am humbled to play a tiny part in a love that lasts beyond death.

That she wants to share that link with his sister awes me further. I know that God will bless her giving spirit and mend her heart.

I responded that I would be honored to create a similar necklace for his sister. And I told her that, while she will never forget Charlie, in time it will become easier to remember him.

As the Mister and I continue to plan our wedding with Scottish traditions, we are reminded that each day is a gift. We will remember our lost loved ones on our wedding day. Although we never met him, Charlie will undoubtedly be among them.

Pencils

Speaking of pencils . . . the Mister and I are trying to come up with a cute phrase to put on the pencils for our pinwheels.

Here are some options, most of which were suggested by Ellie over at the lucky nest. Which do you like?

love makes the world go 'round

life without love is like a pencil without lead -- pointless

love is the signature of our lives

write your own love story

Ah choo!

Some time ago, Mama and I had a difference of opinion.

We were talking about the tragedy our family has faced, and how we wanted the people who supported us then to celebrate with us at the wedding. She said, “There won’t be a dry eye in the house!”

Knowing that my tears usually end up in the ugly cry (like Paris below), I thought it might be nice to give something helpful to our guests with similarly tearful tendencies.




source

I remembered reading about the super cute tissue packs that people provide to wedding guests, and I thought about doing something similar. I researched the cost of the packets (either to buy them prepared, or to prepare them myself), and I realized that hankies would cost about the same. Two of my aunts and my MOH had small collections of vintage hankies from relatives that they would like to use for something meaningful, and they offered parts of those collections to me. I was so stoked!

source

I told Mama of my plan, and she said, “Well, that’s basically assuming that people will cry at your wedding!” Um? I was confused.

This disagreement has long since been resolved, and Mama bought me a beautiful lot of vintage hankies on eBay. (Mama is an eBay warrior!) But this got me thinking . . . IS it rude to provide handkerchiefs at the wedding? Does it send a self-centered message? Or is it sweet and old fashioned? Just wondering.

All this thinking about cloth over paper has spilled over into my everyday (nonwedding!) life. I switched in the past year from paper napkins to cloth napkins, and I LOVE them. They make each meal seem more special, AND they’re good for the environment. Just toss ‘em in the laundry with your clothes, and out they come, ready to be reused.

I’ve got this cool coworker who lives on a farm with a peach tree, an apple tree, a cherry tree, huckleberry bushes, and a wonderful vegetable garden. She brings in loads of delicious local organic produce for all of us to share. If she leaves our office, I’m totally going with her. She’s amazing!

So this week, I was telling her about the cloth napkins, and she said she’d switched to hankies too. The very next day, two beautiful new hankies were on my desk. I haven’t used them yet – they’re so pretty that I don’t want to blow my nose on them. But I imagine it’s only a matter of time. My Kleenex box is running awfully low.

So here’s to hankies (and the friends who give them to us)! Ah choo!

Office Depot Centerpieces

The previous two posts detail the personal flowers we'll be using for the wedding. So far, our floral budget consists of four flowers for the mothers and some floral tape. Dats it. "But we still have the ceremony and reception to decorate!” you say. And you’re right.

The ceremony will be held in the church where I was baptized, confirmed, served as a deacon, and am still a member. Fortunately, it’s beautiful on its own.

source

source

Helloooo, Gorgeous! Even better, they provide a lovely white floral arrangement at the front of the church. And they’ll let us use their wrought iron candle holders that go at the end of each pew. Sure, I could decorate the church further, but why gild the lily? I can’t remember anything different about the ceremony décor of any wedding I’ve ever seen in a church. ‘Nuff said.

But surely we must have floral centerpieces for the reception! Not so much. The Mister and I love the way that candle centerpieces look on the tables – warm and inviting and intimate. So I started brainstorming ways to make the candle centerpieces uniquely ours. We wanted the centerpieces to do double duty by informing guests of the table names and numbers.

I’m really jazzed about the table names! Based on our love of all things British, and the fact that I used to live in London, we are naming the tables after central London tube stops. Westminster. Covent Garden. Tottenham Court Road. Piccadilly! I’m all excited just typing the names! Makes me want to sip a cuppa Earl Grey while humming “God Save the Queen.” Mind the Gap! And whatnot.

By the way, does anyone else love that the Brits *actually* say “whilst”? Like, “Whist I was washing the dishes . . . .” It makes even the most mundane thing seem just a smidge fancy.

I love the silhouette trend, so whilst I was designing the centerpieces, I incorporated chandelier silhouettes into the design to add an elegant graphic element to the table numbers. Enough talk! Here’s the eye candy:

Sorry for the blurry photos. Time to get a new camera!

Here's how to make one: (1) Print your design on paper. (2) Wrap paper into a cylinder and secure with double stick tape. (3) Put battery operated candles or throwies inside the cylinder. (4) Well, there is no fourth step. That’s it, folks. Couldn’t be easier. If you want to use real candles, you should wrap the paper around a glass cylinder, so the paper doesn’t catch on fire. (You know my fear of fire at weddings.)

We’re using two on each table, a big luminary made on 11x17” paper with our table name, number, and the chandelier graphic that Mrs. Flamingo at weddingbee so graciously gave me, and a smaller one made on 8.5x11” paper with another chandelier design in reverse. We’ll put multiple lights in each luminary. If that’s not enough light, we’ll also do individual luminaries wrapped around single candles with candelabra silhouettes. Here’s an assortment:

The best part is that they can be made in advance, using regular old copy paper from the office supply store. Lots of visual drama for notta lotta moolah.

Anybody else shopping at Office Depot for their centerpieces? (Wink.)

When Butterflies Attack Part III

Now that you’ve read When Butterflies Attack Parts I and II, which focus on the music that will be played while our guests are NOT throwing things at us, here is the exciting conclusion to the story, which will focus on what the guests will hold (but NOT! throw) during the getaway.

By the way, does anyone else love calling the newlyweds’ exit from the church “the getaway”? It conjures up images of a bank stickup by a gang of hooligans, the dumbest of whom is waiting in the getaway car to whisk the other robbers away from the police. Of course, the driver hasn’t left the car running, so he has to try to start it several times once his co-felons jump in. Once it’s started, it runs out of gas halfway to the safehouse. Man, I hope that doesn’t happen on my wedding getaway. Note to self: check gas gauge on getaway car; hire smart driver.

source

OK. I’m back from my 1970’s movie flashback. I want something cute for the guests to hold during the getaway. Some folks have suggested ribbon wands, which are a great idea! They kind of look like the streamers that people throw off cruise ships when they depart. I have some trouble, however, imagining my future father-in-law waving a ribbon wand around like a princess. I wanted something that was a little more unisex, while still being whimsical.

We’re getting married in the breezy spring, and so I decided on . . . pinwheels!

source

I realize that not everyone gets as excited about pinwheels as I do. But they’re so fun and childlike, and they’ll send us off to our reception in a whirlwind of springy laughter. Perfect. Also, the Mister had already exercised his limited veto power on the getaway by banning ukuleles, so he just had to let me have my pinwheels, right? Right!

The other thing I love about pinwheels is that they can be personalized to match your wedding colors. You just cut out squares of the color paper you want, cut some small slits in the squares, fold up the paper, and pop it on a stick.

Martha Stewart’s website was the starting place for my pinwheel how-to, but she recommends using a wooden skewer or dowel rod as the stick. I tried that, and it was really hard to get the pin into the wood. My fingers looked like a pincushion! Yowch! That’s when I hit upon the idea of using a pencil. That’s how we used to do it in grade school. You can personalize pencils for your wedding, which would make a great little mini-favor for the guests when the pinwheel has lost its whimsy. I’m thinking of putting something like, “Write your own love story!” on the pencil. What do you think?

Anyway, here’s the how-to:

Cut a square of paper to the size you'd like your pinwheel to be (the ones I made range from 3 to 6 inches). Fold each square in half, diagonally, and in half again (also diagonally), then unfold. Cut along each crease two-thirds of way to square's center, dividing each corner into two points. Bring every other point to center so points overlap.

Poke a map pin through center, and kind of squidge it around a bit to make the hole bigger than the pin (so the pinwheel will rotate). Thread a small bead onto pin behind the wheel, and poke the pin into the pencil eraser. It works best if you poke the pin into the eraser down at a slight angle, so that the metal part that holds the eraser onto the pencil stops the pin from going all the way through the eraser. That way, you have no sharp ends sticking out.

Blow on the pinwheel and watch it rotate. Giggle. Repeat.

Here's a mockup, using paper printed with our vows on one side, and a circle design on the other. You like?
I realize that it is still highly unlikely that my future father in law (or any of the male guests, for that matter) will be waving a pinwheel during our getaway. And I’m OK with that. I just want one uber-cute, daydreamy, innocent, uncomplicated, silly little thing at the ceremony.

Pinwheels. Hooray!

When Butterflies Attack Part II

Ok, so now that we’ve established that our ceremony getaway can’t involve projectiles or flames, it’s time to chat about what it will involve.
My first thought was kazoos. Seriously. (Wow – I never thought I’d use the words “kazoos” and “seriously” right next to each other. That’s weird.)

source

Anyway, kazoos are fun and silly and just what people need to let loose a little. But they’re kinda expensive for about thirty seconds of use. Also, have you ever been trapped in a car with a five year old and a kazoo for any period of time? It’s torture. Since I do have friends with kids, into whose hands the kazoos will inevitably fall, I nixed that idea.

Next I thought about ukuleles. Seriously.

source

There’s a group of school-aged kids who play in an awesome ukulele band in my town. They’re really upbeat and fun. Unfortunately, I have given the Mister limited veto power over wedding decisions, and he chose to exercise it on the ukulele band. I mean, where is his sense of adventure and folly for heaven’s sake?! Also, the uke band was a tad expensive for thirty seconds. So I couldn’t really put up a fight on the veto.

What do kazoos and ukuleles have in common (other than the obvious fact that someone utterly insane thought of using them at a wedding)? They’re both noisy! (Am I the only person who likes tap better than ballet, because it’s noisy?) So! If I could come up with something loud that would not offend the Mister’s delicate sense of wedding suitability, we’d both be happy.

Enter . . . the bagpipes! Talk about LOUD! And they have the added benefit of jiving with our shared Scottish heritage. Our Presbyterian church has its own Scottish heritage, so they practically have a bagpiper on retainer. She (yes, SHE!) is a talented cute lass who agreed to play something upbeat for us as we run from the church to the getaway car.

source

But I was worried – without something to throw, would the wedding guests feel cheated? Should they have something to hold to make our escape more festive? Tune in to our next installment for the shocking conclusion of When Butterflies Attack . . . .

When Butterflies Attack

The tradition of throwing stuff at a wedding is a very old one. It began thousands of years ago when guests would throw figs and nuts at the bride and groom to encourage their fertility and prosperity. Gradually this evolved into throwing rice, which became temporarily taboo in 1996 when Ann Landers reported that rice is bad for birds. This quickly became the (now debunked!) urban legend that birds who eat raw rice could explode.

During the false exploding bird period, people in the western world started using alternatives to rice. It started with birdseed (good for the birds!), and then began to include confetti and rose petals.

Um, I don’t know about you, but I certainly don’t want to be pelted with thousands of tiny sharp projectiles on the “happiest day of my life.” Don’t get me wrong. I know that rice has exfoliation properties. But while I might need a facial before the wedding, I don’t want one at the wedding. I’ll bet bits of rice (or birdseed, or confetti) would stow away in my veil (and dress, and undergarments), leaving the housekeeping staff at the wedding night hotel tickled pink to try to pick that stuff of the carpet. Humph.

Not to mention the fact that the darned stuff is slippery. I can fall on my dignity (yes, that’s what my grandmother used to call it) walking on dry pavement in hiking boots. And this clumsiness runs in my family. My Pop just fell UP the stairs, while Mama once tripped over her sister’s dog and broke her toe. Mama’s toe, that is. The dog didn’t even wake up. If we had the slippery stuff at the wedding, my family and I would all be wiping out left and right.

The next wave of innovation was to release wildlife at weddings – mainly birds and butterflies. Two problems with this plan. (1) Sometimes the fluttery things won’t cooperate. My MOH has been pooped on by birds something like eight times in her life. If that’s supposed to be good luck, she’s the luckiest darned girl in the world.

And butterflies, which are shipped in their cocoons, might not have hatched yet, or (even worse!) their short little life spans might have already run their course, leaving the guests with a bunch of dead butterflies (and all the symbolism that entails). (2) Even more importantly, these transplanted little critters may not fit into the fragile ecosystem in which your wedding takes place, leaving them without the proper food to survive, or putting them into a place where their food source is endangered. Birds. Butterflies. Bad idea.

I love this photo of a butterfly release . . . . I call it, "When Butterflies Attack"

Bubbles have also become popular. I love me some bubbles. Although they are just soap and water, they can stain formalwear (not just mine, but my guests’ clothing too!). I don’t want my wedding favor to my friends and family to be drycleaning bills. People have also begun using sparklers. If I’m too afraid of flames to do the unity candle, why would I voluntarily walk through a ring of fire on my way outta the church?! Duh.

All this is pretty much a moot point for me. My church won’t allow projectiles or incendiary devices. So I’ve had to come up with another plan. That's what I'll discuss in my next post!

Unity Schmoonity

The unity candle, which is now a part of most traditional U.S. wedding ceremonies, is not really all that traditional. Wikipedia guesses that it is about 30 or 40 years old. So how did this new ritual become to many as necessary as marriage itself?

You know how it goes: At the beginning of the wedding ceremony, a representative from each family (usually the mothers of the bride and groom) light two taper candles, which represent the bride and the groom. Later in the ceremony, the bride and groom use the two taper candles to light the large pillar (unity) candle together.

There is major disagreement about whether the bride and groom should blow out the taper candles. Ten or twenty years ago, nearly everyone blew out the tapers, to represent the bride and groom leaving their respective families and starting a new family together. Today, the opposite is true – most brides and grooms leave the tapers lit to symbolize the continued existence of their individual identities, separate from their relationship as a couple.

Alternatives to the unity candle began to spring up over the past ten years as well, mainly because many couples opted for outdoor weddings, which make it difficult to keep the candles lit. If the candles go kaput, so does the lovely symbolism. One alternative is the sand ceremony, where the bride and groom each have a different color of sand, which they pour together into a larger vessel. This ritual can also be performed with different colored water or wine.

Crazy things can happen on one’s wedding day. (It has always puzzled me that people say they want their wedding day to be perfect. I don’t know about you, but I’ve never had a “perfect” day when I do the same things I do every other day – things at which I have a ton of practice – like going to work, eating lunch, answering the phone . . . . So why on earth would I have a perfect day when I do a bunch of things I’ve never done before – like wearing a poofy white dress, feeding the Mister cake in front of a gazillion people, lighting a candle at church . . . .)

The candle can refuse to light, leaving the couple (and all their guests!) speculating about the future of their union. And I’ve watched enough America’s Funniest Home Videos to know that the unity candle ceremony can have fiery consequences. Tulle + fire = danger!

source

I respect the fact that some people want to take these risks. (Actually, I think these people are crazy! Who am I kidding?) I have visions of tripping up the altar steps and into the candle, followed by STOP, DROP, and ROLL.

What I do respect is the desire to include a ritual within the marriage ritual that further solemnizes the marriage. Rituals provide security, stability, meaning, and a sense of belonging. But why have we as Americans chosen a ritual whose main risk is catching fire and whose main benefit is to candle manufacturers? I've heard the story of a Catholic priest and a Protestant minister each "blaming" each other's church for the unity candle ritual. Instead of calling it a Catholic ritual or a Protestant ritual, they agreed to call it a Hallmark ritual, and to discourage it in weddings they perform.

The Mister and I have therefore spent some time considering the rituals for our marriage ceremony. More on that later. But for now, we've reached this decision: No unity candle for this clumsy dame. Sheesh!

What about you? Do you plan to/Did you have a unity candle ceremony?

Playing by the Rules

So it was a week of ups and downs for me and my relationship with religion.

Some quick background: the Mister and I want to make the wedding ceremony more than traditional; we want it to be a worship service where we commit our lives to God. We’re cool with people who don’t want to do the same, but it’s part of who we are. One of the elements we want to include is communion.


Our religious rollercoaster week began on July 4th when our awesome friend/officiant said that we could have people of different denominations serve communion at our wedding. Unifying people of different traditions! I was beside myself with ecumenical enthusiasm. I invited as servers a few people I know will support us in our marriage, but who wouldn’t ordinarily be involved in the service. This included my kind-hearted boss and a trial judge I have known since I was a girl.

You know how they say that you should ask forgiveness, not permission? Well out of an abundance of caution, I thought I should check with another churchy friend to make sure our plan was acceptable. It wasn’t. Apparently, my church requires that ordained ministers, elders, and deacons serve communion.

It wasn’t just that I had to unask my boss and a judge – that was embarrassing. It was that I was disappointed that my church isn’t progressive enough to focus on similarities, rather than differences. I shot off what amounted to a “WWJD” email to the executive minister. His response was a kind description of church polity, but it never addressed my basic internal question: Wouldn’t Jesus think these rules are a bunch of hogwash? (Actually, when I ask myself this question in my mind, I use a cussword, but I’m self-editing here . . . .)

Cut to this past weekend, when the Mister and I attended a two-day marriage preparation retreat (good content, lots of unnecessary repetition, and some forced “thirty-second hugs,” which were somewhat mechanically prescribed as a marital panacea). Spending time in the church reminded me why I love it. It’s the church where I was baptized and confirmed, and my twin brother’s ashes are in the memorial garden. It’s like a member of my family, and when family members do things you don’t like (e.g., spending a zillion dollars on a new building addition or having stupid communion rules), you don’t just disconnect from them. You figure out how to move on together.

At the marriage workshop, between our thirty-second hugs, the Mister and I talked about the communion rules, and he was every bit as outraged as I had been when I first learned of them. But when he started criticizing the church, a funny thing happened. You know when you complain about your brother, it’s cool. But when your best friend agrees with you, you’re suddenly defensive? “Hey, man, that’s my brother you’re talkin’ about! Them’s fightin’ words!” Well, I got all in a huff and thought, “Hey man, that’s my church you’re talkin’ about. Cut it out.”

To make a long story long, I realized that we have to make some sacrifices to have our wedding at my church. If we want to have ecumenical communion, we’ll have to exchange vows elsewhere. But the fact of the matter is we want to be married in the church, just a few steps away from my brother’s memorial. So he’ll be there too. And that’s one of the reasons I’m willing to play by the rules.