I had always imagined getting married at my parents' house, on the rolling hill that leads down to a stave of pine trees in front of a lake. Now, granted, that's the same hill on which the dogs romp and do their business, but it would be cleaned first, of course.
But now that I sit down to the task in all earnestness, the reality sets in. A wedding at home means personal charm, the layering of new memories upon old, the introduction of your friends to the place you grew up, and the possibility of having donkeys walking around carrying drinks on their backs.
However, a wedding at home also means having to figure out where to park cars, a wasteland across my parents' yard afterwards, lots of money spent to hire people to keep the wasteland scenario from happening, the possibility of backed up toilets, and the ever present threat of rain that would necessitate a tent.
I don't know what it is about tents that makes me react so violently to them. I hear "tent" and I think of hot, stuffy dances during senior week in college, churned up mud on the edges, and the general white-plastic look they all inevitably seem to have, no matter how many flowers or lights you put in there to make it your own.
So the alternative? Currently, we are in talks with our favorite vineyard about having the ceremony there -- close to the church, a large space indoors and out, so the weather can do whatever it wants. It's a lovely and inspiring place -- with great wine. But is it better than home?
You all are the guests! Your thoughts?
She is a, well, a strange little girl who dresses all in black and keeps a cadre of black cats around her to do her weird biddings.
