Part IV of the Chronicles of the S&G Wedding

Good morning MY FABULOUS DAUGHTER,

I am pleased to hear that you have enjoyed reading my remembrances of The S & G Wedding, that they have given you cause to laugh aloud now and then, and that you have high hopes that I received a mini-hamburger before the night was over. Here is the final entry:

Part IV - The Remains of the Day

I decided that perhaps my sampling of a mini-hamburger and mini-pickle on a festive pick was not to be, so I turned my attention to the dessert area, where white clad serving staff filled mini sugar cones with sorbets of intense colours and flavours - raspberry was my favourite.  Once a mini cone was filled, it was promptly plunged point first into a long clear Plexiglas box filled with white granular sugar and brightly coloured candies that allowed the cone to stand freely on its own for passers by to pick up and sample.  On either side of the sorbet bar were tall clear buckets made of ice which tiered downward toward the cake - these buckets were filled with fresh cherries, oversized blueberries, kiwi, gooseberries, strawberries, giant blackberries and some more exotic fruits...  the colours of the fruit ... the colours of the candies in the Plexiglas cane sugar sorbet cone bins .... there was something so familiar about them ....  ah-ha! I suddenly realized, they matched the colours of the striped silk pillow supporting my back at that very moment, and they were also the very colours of the wedding invitations, silk panels hanging from lamp posts at the pier, bridesmaids' bouquets, groomsmen's boutonnieres, and the various quadrants of the Andy Warhol-esque canvas!  By gosh, I thought - that wedding planner is thorough!  

I continued my survey of the dessert area and saw that at the end of the icy fruit tiers was a table laid out with a variety of cheeses and along a nearby wall stood a table of incredibly rich looking desserts and a tall stainless steel baker's tier housing tiny cupcakes that GB informed me were samples of the wedding cake. I tasted one - coconut flavoured and absolutely delicious; Katrina's was carrot cake and apparently tasted very nice with her green apple martini.  There were many other colours and flavours of tiny wedding cake muffins that I could have sampled, however at that moment, despite the slight tightness around my middle I was by this time experiencing, I was eating a 2" grilled cheese sandwich together with mini French fries the thickness of spaghetti noodles that had been served in a tiny white paper bag that someone had, with great aforethought and manual dexterity, taken the time to fold the edges over upon itself so as to allow one's fingers to freely pluck the dainty fries from within.

A few moments later, just after I had been served tiny morsels of beef satay on a stick and another glass of red wine, the MC announced that he had a message for the bride and groom and he wanted everyone to gather round.  I looked for your father and spotted him outside once again, gesturing with a baby lamb chop as he chatted to a young woman in a low cut black dress with an especially short staggered hemline - he threw his head back and laughed and I was impressed by the number of exceedingly witty women he had been able to ferret out from amongst the guests.  I went outside and caught his attention and he cuddled close to me as I shivered in the cold mountain air and listened to the MC read your good wishes from Bangkok.  Bravo darling!  By this time the staff had been busy handing out lovely blankets to those feeling chilled - Suzanne was draped in a solid red blanket which somehow looked like a royal robe upon her spare frame, and I noted that Wendy McDonald (whom I'd seen earlier in the evening trapped in the ladies room in front of an end stall by a somewhat overbearing woman who seemed determined to explain the ills of the softwood lumber situation to her) also managed to look quite regal wrapped in a white blanket. 

The speeches then commenced and the fathers of the bride and groom gave heartfelt and humorous speeches welcoming the newest members of their now expanded families.  At this time Uncle Robbie appeared in front of me bearing two tiny white plates filled with half a dozen baby lamb chops smothered in the aforementioned sauce of mint and pureed peas.  He had planned to share the tiny chops with family members inside, however, his progress was stayed by the crowd listening to the speeches - we were all packed so tightly together at the bistro entranceway that he had to keep the lamb chops aloft at eye level.  A tiny waitress ducked under his laden hands and pushed her way through the crowd to deliver a round of the latest coloured martinis and I crossed my fingers and hoped that neither the large muscular fellow with the tattooed neck on my left nor the diminutive ponytailed fellow on my right, in the cream silk suit, wearing trendy sunglasses fashioned after the type usually seen in darkened theatres whilst one is watching a 3-d movie, would sneeze and render the choice lamb morsels unappetising.

I must add here that Uncle Graham did an especially good job when it was his time to address the crowd - he said he hadn't had to actually compose a speech for this occasion - he had merely jotted down all the wonderful things Auntie Candy had said to describe Suzanne to their waiter a few nights previously.  GB and Suzanne gave their warm and witty speeches and it was at this point that Suzanne's confident demeanour flagged just a tad as she shed a tear when thanking her parents for their love and support and mentioned her grandmother's inability to attend the occasion.  Suzanne was funny, gracious, and absolutely movie-star beautiful.  If you could have seen the way she and GB looked at each other throughout the course of the afternoon and evening, you too would have no doubt that they will be very, very happy together. Next they were toasted by a maid of honour and by Niki. 

I retreated inside to warm up and tasted another endive leaf dotted with a dollop of goat cheese and a toasted pecan (still as tasty the 5th time around as the 1st), then a server came by with another tray of tiny grilled cheese sandwiches - I thought to myself, who can resist a grilled cheese sandwich when there are no mini-hamburgers in sight? and I deftly plucked the tiny toasted treat off the tray and in a manner that I hope had at least some modicum of daintiness about it, I devoured it in one quick bite. 

Looking back, I think it may have been around this point in the evening that someone proposed some sort of formal toast - was it to the bride? to the happy couple? or perhaps to the engineer who had designed the cake? for some reason my memory here is a bit fuzzy. I do recall having a glass of wine in one hand and a colourful martini in the other and the fact that they were both delicious.  As I recall, I searched amongst the exotic flower arrangements and array of wine and martini glasses and tiny white plates on the coffee table for a place to set down my glasses so as to free my hands for a champagne flute.  Unable to find a spot to set down even one glass, and with a feeling akin to desperation, I looked towards my dear family in this my time of need:  unfortunately, cousin Jeanette was of no help at all, as she shared a similar dilemma, with a blue martini in one hand and a forkful of cake in the other; I turned towards Robert, but he was sitting on the banquette with his elbows upon his knees and a baby lamb chop between his mint and pureed pea sauce covered fingers - he had a rather blissful look upon his face and I chose not to disturb him; I turned my head in search of Uncle Robbie who was busy exchanging witticisms and business cards with Wendy McDonald; Nana Moe was sipping from her glass of wine and chatting with Gerry Robb and Barb from A&A; Uncle Doug and Auntie Fellette were just outside the area in which my "inside voice" might comfortably reach; cousin Wally and Katrina were sharing a kiss behind the sorbet bar (!); Craig was nowhere in sight ... alas, no help I thought.  But then my spirits soared as I caught sight of the back of your father's head ... but my hopes were immediately dashed as I detected the head wiggle in progress and I judged by the increasing tempo of the wiggle and by and the way the object of his attention, a lovely young blond woman in a low cut knee length white cocktail dress with black polka dots and a black gross-grain ribbon belt with a rhinestone buckle was laughing and patting her amply exposed bosom, I knew I would never be able to attract his attention before the champagne flutes disappeared to handsfree guests.

Somehow I did eventually manage to hold a champagne flute aloft, but the rest of the toast is a bit unclear, possibly because cousin Craig had just then captured my attention.  He was located in front of a small easel where a caricature artist was hard at work.  I thought it strange, not that Craig was sporting the widest grin I had ever beheld upon his handsome face, but rather that he stood on his knees in front of a pretty young blonde woman - Oh my goodness, I thought to myself, has all this festivity, marital bliss, and champagne gone to Craig's head and inspired him to seek betrothal from a perfect stranger?  No! - I noticed that he was actually writing something with a black permanent marker on her hot pink T-shirt clad hip and upon closer inspection I noted that her entire T-shirt had been written upon with best wishes from party guests. 

I believe it was at this point in the evening that the wedding planner, a diminutive thirty-something-year-old woman with an in-charge personality, chic short hairstyle, dressed in black trousers, a black top, cream coloured Shantung silk jacket and with a smile of success upon her face, stopped by on her rounds and suggested that we might like to write down our best wishes for the happy couple on one of the S & G postcards displayed at a nearby table.  We were informed that the card could then be dropped into the stylised stainless steel mailbox created just for this very purpose.  I wrote a line or two of warm wishes on one of the cards, wondering when the bride and groom would have the opportunity to read it and the dozens of others that had been stuffed into the box.  I was impressed to hear from Nana Moe that GB told her the very next day at the post-wedding luncheon that Uncle Robbie had written on one of the cards a thank you to he and Suzanne for including mention of our Dad, your Grandpa Ralph, in the wedding program.  

Now dear daughter, I know I told you this would be the final entry of the S & G Wedding Chronicles, however, there is still a little more to tell and I don't want you to be late for work.

Stay tuned tomorrow for Part V

LOVE YOUR WONDERFUL MOTHER