Tuesday, October 18, 2005
Off to Iceland and London
So the wedding is over. The Bride and Groom disappear into the Victorian Bed & Breakfast--the rest of us disperse. We arrange to all meet for dinner, and wind up at a Greek restaurant, Taverna Opa, in German Village--very near the motel many folks are staying in; a positive review is at http://www.gayot.com/restaurantpages/info.php?tag=CORES0125&code=CO, while there's a less complimentary one at http://www.wsyx6.com/newsroom/features/bite_with_johnny.shtml#taverna
The food is plentiful, hardy, and filling, and apart from a minor confusion (the vegetarian stuffed grape leaves are delivered to the wrong person, so MOTB winds up with meat filled grape leaves, which requires some adjustments). We're all seated outdoors, on a side porch of the Victorian-era house that the Gayot review mentions. Service is pretty good, and FOTB runs into one of the community performers who's a volunteer in his research facility and has the chance to share the evening's pleasures.
We're all having a grand time, when a belly dancer starts up. Literally.
We get out as soon as possible. And go home and collapse.
The next day, we take the newly-weds to Cirque de Soleil's performance of Varekai, playing in a big tent. The show is as unbelievably slick as the website: http://www.cirquedusoleil.com/CirqueDuSoleil/en/showstickets/varekai/intro/intro.htm
highly theatrical, highly polished, great skills, and kind of a really, really silly and thin plot line to hang all the virtuosity on.
Then it's the next day. TB and TG show up at POTB house to pack up gifts, etc. And they depart for Iceland, then will be off to London for a week. Each, cleverly, has gotten three weeks' leave, but overlapped them--so TG spent the first week of his leave in Norfolk with TB, second week (her first) in Columbus getting ready and getting married, and the week in London will be his third week. And her second. Her third week will be in Iceland, while he returns to work. So they get a month together. Here they are departing for the airport:
After the week in Iceland, TB returns to her ship; they'll be separated until TG retires in February--and we'll all meet in Iowa to celebrate a late holiday.
And now we all return to normalcy! Or what passes for normalcy, after this period of enormous activity, and enormous joy.
The food is plentiful, hardy, and filling, and apart from a minor confusion (the vegetarian stuffed grape leaves are delivered to the wrong person, so MOTB winds up with meat filled grape leaves, which requires some adjustments). We're all seated outdoors, on a side porch of the Victorian-era house that the Gayot review mentions. Service is pretty good, and FOTB runs into one of the community performers who's a volunteer in his research facility and has the chance to share the evening's pleasures.
We're all having a grand time, when a belly dancer starts up. Literally.
We get out as soon as possible. And go home and collapse.
The next day, we take the newly-weds to Cirque de Soleil's performance of Varekai, playing in a big tent. The show is as unbelievably slick as the website: http://www.cirquedusoleil.com/CirqueDuSoleil/en/showstickets/varekai/intro/intro.htm
highly theatrical, highly polished, great skills, and kind of a really, really silly and thin plot line to hang all the virtuosity on.
Then it's the next day. TB and TG show up at POTB house to pack up gifts, etc. And they depart for Iceland, then will be off to London for a week. Each, cleverly, has gotten three weeks' leave, but overlapped them--so TG spent the first week of his leave in Norfolk with TB, second week (her first) in Columbus getting ready and getting married, and the week in London will be his third week. And her second. Her third week will be in Iceland, while he returns to work. So they get a month together. Here they are departing for the airport:
After the week in Iceland, TB returns to her ship; they'll be separated until TG retires in February--and we'll all meet in Iowa to celebrate a late holiday.
And now we all return to normalcy! Or what passes for normalcy, after this period of enormous activity, and enormous joy.
Monday, October 10, 2005
The Day Arrives--But first.....
It's now Friday--the day before the wedding. All seems in gear--family and wedding party are arriving, settling in to the Victorian Bed & Breakfast and other places; all have found hotel space, despite the hordes of Texas fans, and the anticipated mobs for WaterFire have not appeared yet, so all remains relatively calm. First, the space must be decorated. This involves hanging yards of white tulle from the columns in the main space at the Cultural Arts Center. And despite lots of promises from lots of TBTB's local friends to help, only two show up: Shawna, a bridesmaid, and Dave, a close friend. Here they are preparing yards of tulle (25 yards to a batch):
MOTB does all the measuring, planning, and organizing (including, of course, taking the pictures). Shawna and Dave are helping measure, putting strings through the tulle to tie them up around the columns, and wiring together ivy strands that will hang from the columns as well.
All is very efficient.
But, you might ask, who does that leave to actually hang the tulle? From on top a fifteen foot ladder? Well, if you gues FOTB, you'd be right. Despite mild vertigo, up he goes.
And the tulle gets hung, the gallery gets decorated, and we all go home to relax. Until the rehearsal at 4. And the arrival of the tables and chairs and linens. And the caterers, to do preliminary setup.
Of course, all goes smoothly. It will turn out the next morning that three tables don't arrive, but everything else does. The one problem: the butterflies. TBTB has ordered live butterflies, to be released as Bride and Groom depart from the reception, Man and Wife. Butterflies will be given to each of the guests by The Butterfly Girl (TBTB's cousin Christopher's daughter, Yona), in paper packets. The butterflies will fly forth in a great cloud at the moment of departure. This is better than rice, not really permitted at the Cultural Arts Center because it gets in cracks between bricks. Bird seed is an option; TBTB prefers butterflies. They're ordered from a butterfly place in Florida -- which I think is Butterfly kisses, http://www.butterfly-kisses.com/index.html -- and will arrive today, on Friday. They are to be kept dormant, through chilling, until a couple of hours before release.
But we're not home to receive them. POTB are hanging tulle; TBTB and TGTB are gathering up family and friends at airport, transporting back and forth, making last minute arrangements. Luckily, TBTB's Uncle Brian, the nuclear engineer from California, has arrived. So he's to stay at POTB's home to receive butterflies.
But the butterflies don't arrive. We all return from decorating, meeting, etc., in early afternoon. And UB reports no butterflies. TBTB checks the order--and discovers that the wrong address is on the confirmation: street number is off by 100 digits. And the tracking systems reports that butterflies were delivered four hours earlier.
TBTB runs down the street. And discovers the butterflies, in their delivery box, on the porch of the wrong address. In the sun. On a 90 degree day. Unsigned for. Despite directions on box: do not deliver without signature. Refrigerated. To be kept cool.
Well. We open the box, to disover the dry ice has all melted. Ice is quickly added to box, and box is put in basement. We can but hope. There are some scratching sounds from the envelopes, so presumably butterflies are no longer dormant. We hope they become dormant again. Otherwise tomorrow, Bride and Groom, rather than having a cloud of butterflies surrounding them, will be pelted with dead insects.
Rehearsal goes without a hitch. Rehearsal dinner, at the Clay Cafe where everybody paints china, is great fun. Both documented on blogs with links here: http://navyweddingrehearsal.blogspot.com//
And the wedding itself works well on the day. Despite missing tables, all works perfectly. Bride is lovely, groom is dashing. Again, documented elsewhere, at http://columbusnavywedding.blogspot.com/ MOTB finishes wedding gown an hour before the wedding, breaking the tradition in the family (MOTB was a half hour late to her own wedding, as her mother finished sewing the gown as she wore it). ( And The Gown is itself documented at http://columbusnavyweddingdress.blogspot.com/ --as well it should be.) The reception goes well, with spectacular food from Dragonfly NeoV (www.dragonflyneov.org) --Magdiale also bakes the vegan cake. And despite threats from a few carnivores to bring buckets of KFC, they don't. And eat the terrific food --the griddle cakes are particularly popular so quickly that POTB and newly weds get only a couple of bites apiece. The string trio is tuneful, piano music (thanks, Susan!) during the reception gives a great atmosphere to the gallery space. So the wedding and reception are smooth and joyous, on all counts.
And the butterflies are alive, mostly. The grandmother of the Bride releases hers an hour ahead of time, not quite understanding what it is. (The packets are distributed an hour before needed so the butterflies can wake up.) But at the moment, the butterflies fly. Many alight on the Bride and Groom, attracked by their dazzling whiteness--she in lace and satin, he in dress whites. Here's one on Uncle Brian's hand:
And the Bride, a butterfly on her arm, and The Groom await the carriage. So the butterflies fulfill their mission--to take positive messages to the dieties on behalf of those who set them free.
The Wedding thus ends, with the newlyweds riding off in their carriage. It's too early for a sunset, but read on . . .
A postscript: the carriage route takes the Newlyweds through downtown Columbus, on a circuitous route to avoid heavily trafficed streets. The carriage drives past the Cirque du Soleil, set up north of the Cultural Arts Center by about a mile, then turns to go around Nationwide Arena, and passes the Columbus Convention Center. As the carriage nears the Arena and Convention Center, 4000 Honda dealers emerge from the Center, leaving a sales meeting to go to the Cirque. The carriage and the newlyweds drive through the mobs of Honda dealers--who respond to the romantic scene with cheers. So the newlyweds drive, in a carriage, through cheering throngs. Is that not a perfect ending?
MOTB does all the measuring, planning, and organizing (including, of course, taking the pictures). Shawna and Dave are helping measure, putting strings through the tulle to tie them up around the columns, and wiring together ivy strands that will hang from the columns as well.
All is very efficient. But, you might ask, who does that leave to actually hang the tulle? From on top a fifteen foot ladder? Well, if you gues FOTB, you'd be right. Despite mild vertigo, up he goes.
And the tulle gets hung, the gallery gets decorated, and we all go home to relax. Until the rehearsal at 4. And the arrival of the tables and chairs and linens. And the caterers, to do preliminary setup.
Of course, all goes smoothly. It will turn out the next morning that three tables don't arrive, but everything else does. The one problem: the butterflies. TBTB has ordered live butterflies, to be released as Bride and Groom depart from the reception, Man and Wife. Butterflies will be given to each of the guests by The Butterfly Girl (TBTB's cousin Christopher's daughter, Yona), in paper packets. The butterflies will fly forth in a great cloud at the moment of departure. This is better than rice, not really permitted at the Cultural Arts Center because it gets in cracks between bricks. Bird seed is an option; TBTB prefers butterflies. They're ordered from a butterfly place in Florida -- which I think is Butterfly kisses, http://www.butterfly-kisses.com/index.html -- and will arrive today, on Friday. They are to be kept dormant, through chilling, until a couple of hours before release.
But we're not home to receive them. POTB are hanging tulle; TBTB and TGTB are gathering up family and friends at airport, transporting back and forth, making last minute arrangements. Luckily, TBTB's Uncle Brian, the nuclear engineer from California, has arrived. So he's to stay at POTB's home to receive butterflies.
But the butterflies don't arrive. We all return from decorating, meeting, etc., in early afternoon. And UB reports no butterflies. TBTB checks the order--and discovers that the wrong address is on the confirmation: street number is off by 100 digits. And the tracking systems reports that butterflies were delivered four hours earlier.
TBTB runs down the street. And discovers the butterflies, in their delivery box, on the porch of the wrong address. In the sun. On a 90 degree day. Unsigned for. Despite directions on box: do not deliver without signature. Refrigerated. To be kept cool.
Well. We open the box, to disover the dry ice has all melted. Ice is quickly added to box, and box is put in basement. We can but hope. There are some scratching sounds from the envelopes, so presumably butterflies are no longer dormant. We hope they become dormant again. Otherwise tomorrow, Bride and Groom, rather than having a cloud of butterflies surrounding them, will be pelted with dead insects.
Rehearsal goes without a hitch. Rehearsal dinner, at the Clay Cafe where everybody paints china, is great fun. Both documented on blogs with links here: http://navyweddingrehearsal.blogspot.com//
And the wedding itself works well on the day. Despite missing tables, all works perfectly. Bride is lovely, groom is dashing. Again, documented elsewhere, at http://columbusnavywedding.blogspot.com/ MOTB finishes wedding gown an hour before the wedding, breaking the tradition in the family (MOTB was a half hour late to her own wedding, as her mother finished sewing the gown as she wore it). ( And The Gown is itself documented at http://columbusnavyweddingdress.blogspot.com/ --as well it should be.) The reception goes well, with spectacular food from Dragonfly NeoV (www.dragonflyneov.org) --Magdiale also bakes the vegan cake. And despite threats from a few carnivores to bring buckets of KFC, they don't. And eat the terrific food --the griddle cakes are particularly popular so quickly that POTB and newly weds get only a couple of bites apiece. The string trio is tuneful, piano music (thanks, Susan!) during the reception gives a great atmosphere to the gallery space. So the wedding and reception are smooth and joyous, on all counts.
And the butterflies are alive, mostly. The grandmother of the Bride releases hers an hour ahead of time, not quite understanding what it is. (The packets are distributed an hour before needed so the butterflies can wake up.) But at the moment, the butterflies fly. Many alight on the Bride and Groom, attracked by their dazzling whiteness--she in lace and satin, he in dress whites. Here's one on Uncle Brian's hand:
And the Bride, a butterfly on her arm, and The Groom await the carriage. So the butterflies fulfill their mission--to take positive messages to the dieties on behalf of those who set them free.
The Wedding thus ends, with the newlyweds riding off in their carriage. It's too early for a sunset, but read on . . .
A postscript: the carriage route takes the Newlyweds through downtown Columbus, on a circuitous route to avoid heavily trafficed streets. The carriage drives past the Cirque du Soleil, set up north of the Cultural Arts Center by about a mile, then turns to go around Nationwide Arena, and passes the Columbus Convention Center. As the carriage nears the Arena and Convention Center, 4000 Honda dealers emerge from the Center, leaving a sales meeting to go to the Cirque. The carriage and the newlyweds drive through the mobs of Honda dealers--who respond to the romantic scene with cheers. So the newlyweds drive, in a carriage, through cheering throngs. Is that not a perfect ending?
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Count Down
So now it's Labor Day. TGTB has been with TBTB in Norfolk for a week, and they arrive in Columbus. Wedding frenzy hits full sail, so to speak. Here are the tasks to be accomplished between Monday (Labor Day) and Saturday (The Wedding):
--first, an immediate crises. Al, old friend of TGTB and Navy meterologist buddy, is to be groomsman. But he's in Biloxi, Mississippi--and stranded by Hurricane Katrina. After much phoning back and forth TGTB finally reaches him. He's ok, as is his living conditions, etc., so he didn't need to evacuate. But all the bridges are down--no way he can drive from Biloxi to Columbus, no ground or air transportation systems working. He can't come. So TGTB calls another friend, Dave, in Seattle, who's coming anyway. Dave will be groomsman; luckily, Edwardian style tuxes chosen by TBTB are at The Men's Warehouse www.menswearhouse.com/) which is a national chain; Dave will be fitted in Seattle and bring his tux with him. and when we contact the local Men's Warehouse to cancel Al's tux, they say--after hearing the circumstances--that there will be no late fee or rush fee for Dave's tux.
--all arrangements need to be gone over with TBTB. Many decisions were made in her absence/being at sea and not reachable via usual means of communication. So there will be adjustments. But not many. POTB resist some; redoing the bodice of The Dress has cause MOTB enough hassle. Flowers--check! Menu--check! Tables--check! Linens--check! But then changes are made by caterer in number/shape of tables, which require changes in linens which require --- etc., etc., etc. And caterer Cristin reports that the gold-rimmed china is too worn, so we're back to plain white.
--POTB now obsess about the horsedrawn carriage that will take TB&TG (no longer TB when the carriage is needed) from Cultural Arts Center to Victorian Bed and Breakfast.
Despite having sent proposed route (horse can't deal with too much traffic, so the route has to be circuitous) and deposit in June, no response from carriage folk. And despite repeated, and increasingly curt phone messages, no return call. Finally, POTB drive to carraige folks' house, and knock on door (resisting urge to pound). Carriage driver answers, bewildered that we need confirmation. Offers as excuse that his son was going to active duty in Iraq in August, so he's spent time with son. FOTB cuts him off a bit brusquely, retorting that TBTB and TGTB met on active duty in Iraq (subtext: wedding couple both in harm's way trumps your one child, don't pull the patriotic excuse); driver then asks where messages left, and responds, Oh, that's the cell phone, I've lost three cell phones this week alone. FOPTB answers, with careful control, since the cell phone number is the only one available, he's not sure where else to leave messages (refraining from suggesting that perhaps a boy scout carrying a message on birch bark impaled on a forked stick might be more reliable). Driver assures that horse and carriage will be there On The Day, and that route is fine. Fine.
--TBTB and TGTB spent huge amounts of time searching for, purchasing, comparing, wrapping, etc., personalized gifts for the wedding party. Most are terrific gifts; some are, to POTB, a bit puzzling. A ceramic baseball that opens? All will go in gift boxes decorated with naval knots, found at the always-interesting JoAnn Fabrics Plus. TBTG has cut black foamcore squares to line the boxes.
--Meanwhile, The Wedding Gown has been fitted and is now being adjusted. The lace train is being hemmed and scallops added. The Veil is fitted and ends finished. All this means MOTB is locked in sewing room most of the week. She hasn't had time to hem to sleeves of her own dress; a foray to stores for an alternative dress the weekend before The Couple arrived demonstrated that the range of choices for a mature woman who wears petite 5 are very, very, very slim. Her options are to keep the dress she has and shorten the sleeves, dress like a bag lady, or look vaguely like an older Brittany Spears. Shortening the sleeves seems necessary, but where to find the time? Luckily, Sarah, an old friend and former wardrobe mistress for the Columbus Performing Arts Center, comes to the rescue. Sarah comes by, has supper with us, gives solid suggestions for working on The Gown, and takes away MOTB dress. It reappears two days later, sleeves exactly right.
--TGTB needs to unpack and adjust the Model of The Golden Hind, begun by his father as a gift for TBTB, and completed after Robert's untimely death by TGTB, as well as assemble the cast--the wooden part of the case made in Iceland and shipped to Columbus, as was the Model itself. The dedicatory plaque, ordered in Iowa, was shipped to Kuwait by mistake, then rerouted to Norfolk, then Iceland. It's here too, finally. Glass for the case, ordered in Columbus by MOTB to TGTB's specifications, has to be checked and put in place.
And, of course, TBTB can't see any of this, just as TGTB can't see The Dress. All of which necessitates much planning, scheduling, etc. What doors need to be closed? TGTB can't go upstairs at POTB house, because The Dress is there. TBTB can't go upstairs at MOTB's studio, because that's where the Model is. MOTB sews.
--since the flowers will incorporate ivy from POTB's yard, FOTB spends Labor Day afternoon getting appropriate long strands of ivy and immersing them in ice water. They will be delivered to Mimosa the next morning. MOTB sews. It's then decided to incorporate ivy stands in the decorations at the Cultural Arts Center. FOTB plans to spend Thursday morning cutting more strands of ivy. Luckily, ivy is abundant. MOTB sews.
Thursday arrives. As do the first family/friends/wedding party. Pace quickens.
--first, an immediate crises. Al, old friend of TGTB and Navy meterologist buddy, is to be groomsman. But he's in Biloxi, Mississippi--and stranded by Hurricane Katrina. After much phoning back and forth TGTB finally reaches him. He's ok, as is his living conditions, etc., so he didn't need to evacuate. But all the bridges are down--no way he can drive from Biloxi to Columbus, no ground or air transportation systems working. He can't come. So TGTB calls another friend, Dave, in Seattle, who's coming anyway. Dave will be groomsman; luckily, Edwardian style tuxes chosen by TBTB are at The Men's Warehouse www.menswearhouse.com/) which is a national chain; Dave will be fitted in Seattle and bring his tux with him. and when we contact the local Men's Warehouse to cancel Al's tux, they say--after hearing the circumstances--that there will be no late fee or rush fee for Dave's tux.
--all arrangements need to be gone over with TBTB. Many decisions were made in her absence/being at sea and not reachable via usual means of communication. So there will be adjustments. But not many. POTB resist some; redoing the bodice of The Dress has cause MOTB enough hassle. Flowers--check! Menu--check! Tables--check! Linens--check! But then changes are made by caterer in number/shape of tables, which require changes in linens which require --- etc., etc., etc. And caterer Cristin reports that the gold-rimmed china is too worn, so we're back to plain white.
--POTB now obsess about the horsedrawn carriage that will take TB&TG (no longer TB when the carriage is needed) from Cultural Arts Center to Victorian Bed and Breakfast.
Despite having sent proposed route (horse can't deal with too much traffic, so the route has to be circuitous) and deposit in June, no response from carriage folk. And despite repeated, and increasingly curt phone messages, no return call. Finally, POTB drive to carraige folks' house, and knock on door (resisting urge to pound). Carriage driver answers, bewildered that we need confirmation. Offers as excuse that his son was going to active duty in Iraq in August, so he's spent time with son. FOTB cuts him off a bit brusquely, retorting that TBTB and TGTB met on active duty in Iraq (subtext: wedding couple both in harm's way trumps your one child, don't pull the patriotic excuse); driver then asks where messages left, and responds, Oh, that's the cell phone, I've lost three cell phones this week alone. FOPTB answers, with careful control, since the cell phone number is the only one available, he's not sure where else to leave messages (refraining from suggesting that perhaps a boy scout carrying a message on birch bark impaled on a forked stick might be more reliable). Driver assures that horse and carriage will be there On The Day, and that route is fine. Fine.
--TBTB and TGTB spent huge amounts of time searching for, purchasing, comparing, wrapping, etc., personalized gifts for the wedding party. Most are terrific gifts; some are, to POTB, a bit puzzling. A ceramic baseball that opens? All will go in gift boxes decorated with naval knots, found at the always-interesting JoAnn Fabrics Plus. TBTG has cut black foamcore squares to line the boxes.
--Meanwhile, The Wedding Gown has been fitted and is now being adjusted. The lace train is being hemmed and scallops added. The Veil is fitted and ends finished. All this means MOTB is locked in sewing room most of the week. She hasn't had time to hem to sleeves of her own dress; a foray to stores for an alternative dress the weekend before The Couple arrived demonstrated that the range of choices for a mature woman who wears petite 5 are very, very, very slim. Her options are to keep the dress she has and shorten the sleeves, dress like a bag lady, or look vaguely like an older Brittany Spears. Shortening the sleeves seems necessary, but where to find the time? Luckily, Sarah, an old friend and former wardrobe mistress for the Columbus Performing Arts Center, comes to the rescue. Sarah comes by, has supper with us, gives solid suggestions for working on The Gown, and takes away MOTB dress. It reappears two days later, sleeves exactly right.
--TGTB needs to unpack and adjust the Model of The Golden Hind, begun by his father as a gift for TBTB, and completed after Robert's untimely death by TGTB, as well as assemble the cast--the wooden part of the case made in Iceland and shipped to Columbus, as was the Model itself. The dedicatory plaque, ordered in Iowa, was shipped to Kuwait by mistake, then rerouted to Norfolk, then Iceland. It's here too, finally. Glass for the case, ordered in Columbus by MOTB to TGTB's specifications, has to be checked and put in place.
And, of course, TBTB can't see any of this, just as TGTB can't see The Dress. All of which necessitates much planning, scheduling, etc. What doors need to be closed? TGTB can't go upstairs at POTB house, because The Dress is there. TBTB can't go upstairs at MOTB's studio, because that's where the Model is. MOTB sews.
--since the flowers will incorporate ivy from POTB's yard, FOTB spends Labor Day afternoon getting appropriate long strands of ivy and immersing them in ice water. They will be delivered to Mimosa the next morning. MOTB sews. It's then decided to incorporate ivy stands in the decorations at the Cultural Arts Center. FOTB plans to spend Thursday morning cutting more strands of ivy. Luckily, ivy is abundant. MOTB sews.
Thursday arrives. As do the first family/friends/wedding party. Pace quickens.
