And then I'm really done. Unless Cicada, in her newlywed haze, forgets to take me off as a contributor.
I forgot to mention Switchback and Dr. Rice. They were marvelous, wonderful people who did a ton of work, and I went to bed thinking happy cuddly thoughts about how much I like them. Also it was kind of fun to spend the evening introducing ourselves by our blog names, which made me feel as though I were at some kind of Superhero Convention. "You may know me as Switchback!" "Oh my gosh, you're Switchback!! And which one of you is Daltongirl?"
Need to send more props Daltonboy's way, too. Daltonboy, as you remember, took many many pictures all during the day, and is the reason we were able to include lovely pics with these posts. Daltongirl was a little worried that he might get in the photographer's way, and she didn't want them to be The Kind of People Who Make the Photographer's Job Hard. (Even though Cicada said he was absolutely fine and she was so glad he was there.) Daltongirl felt better during the reception when she overheard someone comment on how smart Murray and Cicada were to hire two wedding photographers.
So. It was a fabulous day, we would never have worked so hard for anyone but Cicada.
Editor's Intervention
Well, Murray and I are back! The honeymoon was great; I can't wait to blog about it. First, I'll see if Nemesis wants to post her side of the story about the reception before I write about the reception from my perspective.
Great job to Daltongirl and Nemesis, by the way, for keeping you all updated, and doing all my work for me while I was gone. The first thing Murray and I did upon landing on American soil was check the blog to see what these wonderful ladies had posted. However, it has come to my attention that a certain error must be addressed in Daltongirl's wonderful and mostly-accurate account of the reception. I received the following email from The Boy last night. Many apologies to him and to El Senor who less dramatically complained about being somewhat misrepresented. In my version of the reception, both of these brothers and every individual who helped out will be appropriately lauded.
I am being grievously misrepresented on your blog. There must be steps taken to rectify this libel which has befallen me.
For clarification: I was in no way, shape, or form responsible for the care of one Bean at any time during the day of nuptiality (I am aware of the insuitability of this particular suffixation, but it sounds ever so much superior to the drap and overrused "nuptials"), nor was I enrolled in the creation of fun and unique aprons to be worn by conscripted wait staff. Instead I was tasked with guiding Richie (tragically born without a sense of direction) around in the pursuit of fruit. And large pans. A task given us by our beloved Ootsie, and dashingly performed in our wedding tuxes.
This restitution may take place in the form of posting this email on your blog. Which is more than I ever willingly granted you to post on your blog when we were living together, as if my permission mattered anyhow.
-The Boy, Esq.
(I may add that all of the emails The Boy sent me on my mission were written in his same unique writing style, and I really wish he'd start a blog or something of his own.)
Great job to Daltongirl and Nemesis, by the way, for keeping you all updated, and doing all my work for me while I was gone. The first thing Murray and I did upon landing on American soil was check the blog to see what these wonderful ladies had posted. However, it has come to my attention that a certain error must be addressed in Daltongirl's wonderful and mostly-accurate account of the reception. I received the following email from The Boy last night. Many apologies to him and to El Senor who less dramatically complained about being somewhat misrepresented. In my version of the reception, both of these brothers and every individual who helped out will be appropriately lauded.
I am being grievously misrepresented on your blog. There must be steps taken to rectify this libel which has befallen me.
For clarification: I was in no way, shape, or form responsible for the care of one Bean at any time during the day of nuptiality (I am aware of the insuitability of this particular suffixation, but it sounds ever so much superior to the drap and overrused "nuptials"), nor was I enrolled in the creation of fun and unique aprons to be worn by conscripted wait staff. Instead I was tasked with guiding Richie (tragically born without a sense of direction) around in the pursuit of fruit. And large pans. A task given us by our beloved Ootsie, and dashingly performed in our wedding tuxes.
This restitution may take place in the form of posting this email on your blog. Which is more than I ever willingly granted you to post on your blog when we were living together, as if my permission mattered anyhow.
-The Boy, Esq.
(I may add that all of the emails The Boy sent me on my mission were written in his same unique writing style, and I really wish he'd start a blog or something of his own.)
The Reception: a work of art worthy of a museum
You know those people who meet at BYU, but they're from two different parts of the country, so they get married in Utah and traverse the nation holding open houses and receptions in order to share their joy with as many friends and loved ones as possible?
Well, Cicada and Murray do not fall into that category. First of all, they didn't meet at BYU. They met after Murray stalked Cicada online. They are, in fact, from different countries, but that didn't stop them from holding only one reception; however, in honor of that alternative practice, we decided to wait a week to post the reception, so it would feel like they had two.
Anyway. After the temple ceremony and much photo taking, Nemesis and I hurried to Jenny's where we ate the entire contents of her refrigerator in order to shore ourselves up for the work ahead of us. Turns out we didn't really need to do that, but we didn't know this at the time. Then we headed out to the reception center, even the Springville Art Museum, also known as The Venue of Choice for Supercool People's Wedding Receptions.
Nemesis, as the Food Service and Preparation Chairperson, kept saying, "I really don't think we need to be there right at 4:00. I mean, it's not like we can put food out or anything. I don't think there will be much for us to do." I will shortly prove to you that all our preconceived ideas about this shindig were completely false. Except for the part about it being cool.
So we arrived, found the kitchen, and noticed that it was completely full of food. Nemesis, true to her name, took charge with a vengeance. Earlier, Ootsie Boodle had warned Nem that certain persons might be inclined to take over, and that she needed to be patient with that. Nem, with a straight face, said, "That's okay. I have a pretty mean left hook if anyone tries anything." I think the word must have gotten out, because no one bothered her.
Cicada had planned everything out marvelously, with the help of her excellent mother. There were pages of recipes (so we could throw salads and stuff together), pages of notes on what condiments went in what bowls, which platters would hold the fruits, vegetables, salmon, roast beef, etc., and everything organized in a most easy-to-carry-out way, what with the organizers themselves being involved elsewhere and not available for consultation for much of the time. It was truly amazing.
We started by donning our very own Cicada and Murray aprons, made for us by Dr. Rice, which was a delightful surprise. Dr. Rice came in, looking lovely but slightly harried, and said to Ootsie Boodle, "Well, we finished the aprons. And by 'we' I mean 'me.'"
Well, Cicada and Murray do not fall into that category. First of all, they didn't meet at BYU. They met after Murray stalked Cicada online. They are, in fact, from different countries, but that didn't stop them from holding only one reception; however, in honor of that alternative practice, we decided to wait a week to post the reception, so it would feel like they had two.
Anyway. After the temple ceremony and much photo taking, Nemesis and I hurried to Jenny's where we ate the entire contents of her refrigerator in order to shore ourselves up for the work ahead of us. Turns out we didn't really need to do that, but we didn't know this at the time. Then we headed out to the reception center, even the Springville Art Museum, also known as The Venue of Choice for Supercool People's Wedding Receptions.
Nemesis, as the Food Service and Preparation Chairperson, kept saying, "I really don't think we need to be there right at 4:00. I mean, it's not like we can put food out or anything. I don't think there will be much for us to do." I will shortly prove to you that all our preconceived ideas about this shindig were completely false. Except for the part about it being cool.
So we arrived, found the kitchen, and noticed that it was completely full of food. Nemesis, true to her name, took charge with a vengeance. Earlier, Ootsie Boodle had warned Nem that certain persons might be inclined to take over, and that she needed to be patient with that. Nem, with a straight face, said, "That's okay. I have a pretty mean left hook if anyone tries anything." I think the word must have gotten out, because no one bothered her.
Cicada had planned everything out marvelously, with the help of her excellent mother. There were pages of recipes (so we could throw salads and stuff together), pages of notes on what condiments went in what bowls, which platters would hold the fruits, vegetables, salmon, roast beef, etc., and everything organized in a most easy-to-carry-out way, what with the organizers themselves being involved elsewhere and not available for consultation for much of the time. It was truly amazing.
We started by donning our very own Cicada and Murray aprons, made for us by Dr. Rice, which was a delightful surprise. Dr. Rice came in, looking lovely but slightly harried, and said to Ootsie Boodle, "Well, we finished the aprons. And by 'we' I mean 'me.'"
Ootsie sympathetically patted Dr. Rice on the arm and said, "I know." Later I found out that The Boy and El Senor were supposed to be helping with that project. I guess they were busy playing with the Bean, whom they awakened early from his nap, to ensure that his parents would be driven crazy when he was overcome with tiredness halfway through the reception. A worthy cause, to be sure, but where did that leave Dr. Rice? Doing a huge job on her own with very little time, that's where.
Also, I can tell you that if my brother woke up my baby from his nap before my sister's wedding reception, there would have been words. None spoken in my hearing, however, which speaks very well of the Captains, I must say.
People started showing up to help, and Nemesis was able to put everyone right to work, because she is amazing like that. I had a very fun time saying, "Ask Nemesis," and mostly minding my own business, except for when I had to tease Switchback to see what stuff she was made of. She came through brilliantly.Here's what the kitchen looked like once most of the food was already out on the buffet tables. Switchback is either making off with a good deal of the dessert, or preparing to take it out to the serving tables. Hard to know which.
I think this was taken just after Nemesis came upon me eating up the baklava that she had set aside for Cicada and Murray to take home with them, since no one was feeding them during the reception. If I remember correctly, her words were, "What are you doing, you jerk? Those are Cicada's!" And then I felt slightly sheepish. I mean, how could I have known? There was food everywhere, and we had quickly developed the practice of eating whatever we wanted, since there was enough for about 12,000 guests, and as far as I know there were only about 350 in attendance. Also, there was no time to get a plate and sit down to eat, so we grazed. Anyway, after this disaster, we decided it might be a good idea to set aside the treats in a box, so that they weren't just sitting out there, unmarked, waiting to be eaten. Plus, who doesn't eat baklava when it's just sitting there? No one, that's who.
I won't burden you with all the details. Suffice it to say that there were French cheeses, artisan breads, I think I mentioned salmon, and every good thing. Here's the buffet table in most of its glory.
Hard to get a good shot once people started thronging to it, but oh, it was lovely!But let's talk about the highlights of the preparation. First, I must say that Cicada's family is made up of the most mellow people I have ever met in my life. Do not take this to mean that they don't get things done. They worked like crazy. But nothing stressed them out. For example, there was no salad dressing for the spinach, candied pecan, gorgonzola, craisin, and fresh pear salad. (Mmmmmmm!) Upon discovering this, I felt my blood pressure start to rise. It was mentioned to Ootsie Boodle. "Okay," she said calmly. "We'll just send someone out to get some." Like it was really that simple. This happened several times. At one point Jenny said, "Where were these people when I got married?" Because seriously, nothing fazed them. Not that anything went terribly wrong, but still. It was amazing and inspiring to watch.
Another example of restraint and patience. So we were searching everywhere for some stuff, and finally Ootsie asked El Senor if he knew where it was. He said, "Oh. It's out in my car. Did you want that brought in?" If it had been my kid, he would have seen much eye rolling and possibly have received a sarcastic reply. Ootsie just said, "Yes," and went on with her life. Nemesis and I may have exchanged glances, because that was too good an opportunity to miss for raking someone over the coals. Really.
The absolute best moment was when Ootsie Boodle realized that Certain Important Items had been left at The Condo, even the new home of the Terreno di Amores. And Cicada and Murray were conveniently at the condo, so she could just call them and ask them to bring said items when they came over to the museum. Only they didn't answer the phone. I came late to the conversation when Nemesis came over to me and whispered, "Afternoon Delight! Cicada and Murray aren't answering their phone!" Ootsie was standing there dialing and saying (calmly) "Oh, I'm sure they're just resting." I think her voice was slightly higher than usual, though. And then she (ever so calmly) started trying to recruit the brothers to just run over to the condo and grab the stuff. Understandably, every one of them refused. Ootsie Boodle graciously did not press them. Then she seized on this wonderful man
who, after hearing the details said, "Sure. I'm up for an awkward moment," and gallantly got in his car and ran the dreaded errand. Way to take one for the team, Viktor! Sadly, he had nothing to report upon his return, because Cicada and Murray showed up moments later. They must have just missed each other.I'll leave you with a photo of the cake. Just one more example of how classy Cicada and Murray are.
And now Nemesis will provide you with the happy ending to our little story.
Because cool people choose the Provo Temple
Hi, Daltongirl has passed the torch on to me, Miss Nemesis, to dicuss the wedding itself. I will do this for you now.The Provo Temple, I will admit to you, is not the most popular temple wedding destination. It was built in the 70s, when there was possibly more crack in the water than there is now. The rumor behind the design is that it was inspired by a scripture in Exodus, where the Lord leads the Israelites after they escaped from Egypt:
And the Lord went before them by day in a pillar of a cloud, to lead them the way, and by night in a pillar of fire, to give them light, to go by day and night:
He took not away the pillar of the cloud by day, nor the pillar of fire by night, from before the people. (Exodus 13: 21-22)
So you have this big . . . possibly cloud-looking . . . structure, and then there was this flame-looking gold-colored spire on top. Which, yeah, if you're thinking of the scripture then it's kind of meaningful and cool and makes us think about the temple as a symbol of God's constant presence and guidance.
Only a few years ago I guess they said to heck with the scripture, we need more brides! So they made the spire white and put the Angel Moroni on top. And Daltongirl wants me to add the apocryphal statement by President Hinckley, who allegedly said, "Okay. No more wedding cake temples."
People only seem to get married at the Provo temple if they're incredibly low-key, if there's a family tradition, or if they're cool and funky. Do we even need to ask which camp Cicada and Murray are in? Plus it made more sense since it's close to where all the other events were being held. I applaud their choice.
It was an absolutely gorgeous day, as you can see. I arrived at the temple and found Daltongirl and Daltonboy in the waiting room. We also recognized the elderly couple (relatives of Cicada's) who caught a gun show between the breakfast and the temple. They offered to take Murray and Cicada's dad with them but I believe Cicada's mom nixed that idea. Probably wise. Because I knew I wouldn't see Cicada before the ceremony, I made sure at the wedding breakfast to whisper in her ear the advice my mother gave to my sister Jenny just before her wedding. "Remember. You still have time to change your mind." Somehow I don't think she'll be saying this to me when it's my turn. Cicada accepted my advice gravely, and I rested easy in the knowledge that I'd done my duty.
After everyone arrived we went upstairs to the sealing room, which was beautiful and peaceful. Cicada's sweet aunt handed Daltongirl and I tissues in case we needed them. We both tend to sob loudly at weddings. After a few minutes Cicada and Murray came in together holding hands, dressed in white, and absolutely beaming.
The sweet elderly gentleman who was to perform the wedding came in and introduced himself. I've decided it's probably a good thing that most couples are really too blissed out to remember much of what the officiator says by way of advice. I'm sure he didn't mean for it to be this way, but the most memorable bit of his advice was when he reassured them that even if one's spouse apostatizes in the future, the spouse who stays true to his temple covenants will still be okay. And since he was basically talking to Murray the whole time, it's pretty clear who he thinks is going to be the one to bail. (Sorry, Cicada. I guess it's good that Murray has a heads-up, though.) But seriously: Is that really the best time? Why doesn't he throw in some sage words about what happens if one of them is eaten by a shark in the next couple of years while he's at it?
The ceremony itself was brief and lovely, and then we all stood up and congratulated Murray and Cicada as we filed our way out. Daltongirl and I perhaps filed a bit more quickly than the others because we had Things To Discuss.
We waited outside on the grounds while the wedding party got changed into their tuxes and other finery for the pictures. And while we waited Daltongirl saw something so arresting that she grabbed the top of my head and swiveled my neck over so that I could see it too. A lady walked out of the temple wearing the most extraordinary footwear I have ever before seen in life. She walked over to a bench and sat down, where I hope she pondered the choice she just made to go into the Lord's House dressed like a yeti:
Then Murray and Cicada walked out together, and the villagers rejoiced:
Could they be any cuter? They had a professional photographer, but Daltonboy followed discreetly behind and took pictures as well. He got a lot of the same shots the photographer did, but used different lenses so as to ensure that the pics would not be duplicates. And then before the reception he found time to print and frame one of them to put out on the gift table. Because he's just sweet like that.
I got the following shot for Savvy, who had been all excited to drive over and see Cicada in her pretty dress. (Checking out brides is her favorite.) Only she fell asleep instead and missed the whole thing, which is why being 3 can be a drag sometimes. Cicada and Murray obliged, though, by posing for me.
So. All in all, it was absolutely wonderful.
Breakfast is Served
Because we were deeply concerned for you, the masses, who will not be hearing from Cicada for at least a week while she is on her honeymoon and may possibly go into withdrawals without a Cicada fix, we convinced her to invite us to post as her guest bloggers, so that we might share with you the excitement and beauty of her lovely wedding day. It will not be the same, but it will be something.
And so, without further ado, we give you Cicada's Wedding Day as seen through the eyes of Miss Nemesis and Daltongirl. As determined previously by coin toss or lots or something, Daltongirl will go first.
Installment 1: The Wedding Breakfast
Daltonboy and I arrived at the reception center to find a bunch of people standing around watching a video. Murray whispered sheepishly that he wasn't sure whether Cicada would approve of the preview, since the video was part of the program for later, but he felt the need to entertain. The video was awesome, partly because it was backed up by some cool scat singing by Ella Fitzgerald, but also because it featured a photo of jr. high-age Cicada with a really tight perm and an unfortunate blouse, covered with a print of flowers larger than her head. Later, during the program, that photo got a huge laugh--even though most everyone was seeing it for the second time.
Cicada arrived, surrounded by her entourage, in the manner of a rock star.
I found myself trying to catch a glimpse of her out the window, just so I could say I'd seen her. Sadly, she was blocked from my view by a group of men in dark suits, so I had to wait until she made her entrance into the dining room.
We found our seats and waited patiently until the moment when we could devour the creme-stuffed crepes in front of us.
Nemesis joined us after almost running the entourage down with her car.
Being schooled in the ways of Europeans and High Brow people, she immediately noticed the classy raspberry curd on the table. I, trying to cover up my white trash upbringing, somewhat abashedly admitted that I had thought it was ketchup. And so it turned out to be, after Nem delicately spooned some onto her plate next to the creme-stuffed crepes. I was ever so disappointed that she hadn't glopped it directly on top of them.
By the time I had eaten half the breakfast, I had consumed more than my entire day's allotment of calories. Perhaps this is why, at 9:00 in the evening, Cicada could say to me, "I haven't eaten since 9:00 this morning, but I'm really not hungry." Seriously. SO delicious.
After the breakfast, we were treated to a short program, wherein both Cicada's and Murray's parents said nice things about them and their impending union--all true as far as we know. Switchback, the loveliest of Maids of Honor, proposed a fabulous toast. Murray's brother started out jokingly, but quickly became choked up in the sweetest way. Then Cicada's family plus Switchback treated us with this musical number, which we understand was a collaborative effort by El Senor, Captain Fabuloso, and Captain Mom, with Richie on guitar.
Sung to the tune of John Prine's "Dear Abby."
Dear Abby
(girls)
Dear Abby, Dear Abby,
My life ain't so great.
I've come out of college with barely a date.
I had a great future worked out in my head.
But now I live with my brother instead.
Signed,
Old Spinster
(boys)
Dear Abby, Dear Abby,
I live all alone.
I bought me a car, and I bought me a home.
I've spent many years to build me this nest,
But now all I need is a bird to come rest.
Signed,
Bird Watcher
(girls and boys together)
Old Spinster, Bird Watcher,
You have no complaint.
You are what you are and you ain't what you ain't.
So listen up Spinster, and Bird Watcher too:
Be patient. One day all your dreams will come true.
Signed,
Dear Abby.
(girls)
Dear Abby, Dear Abby,
I give up on love.
My family's been praying for help from above.
I edit and bike and I work on my blog.
I'm busy, successful, and have a great job.
Signed,
Still Patient
(boys)
Dear Abby, Dear Abby,
I have to work fast.
I often am told that my best years are past.
I go to church with the singles but don't have a doubt
That when I turn thirty they're kicking me out.
Signed,
Dejected
(boys)
Dear Abby, Dear Abby,
Oh, what's apropos
When you've fallen in love with a girl you don't know?
I read all her stories and she sounds so sweet.
This is surely a girl that I'd like to meet.
Signed,
Web Lurker
(girls)
Dear Abby, Dear Abby,
I never could see
That Internet dating was in store for me.
I googled his records and he came up clean.
So with friends in tow we ate Indian cuisine.
Signed,
Optimistic
(boys and girls together)
Dear Abby, Dear Abby,
The time has been short.
It's just been six months since we started to court.
Today we will marry--to the temple we'll go.
Our future together will be great, we know.
Signed,
Just Married
And what could top that, you wonder? Well. Cicada decided to give her single days a proper send off by reciting some poetry, written especially for the occassion. You may recall that in the past, she had gained some notoriety for reciting bitter single poetry. So this was a fitting close to those days, but as she said, "These days, I'm finding it hard to be bitter, so you won't see a lot of that here." And we didn't.
After her sweet poem and some kissing, Murray stepped up to the plate by offering a little creative piece of his own: "For Sentimental Reasons," sung in the manner of Jimmy Stewart. Brilliant!
Thanks ever so much to the entire Terreno di Amore family for providing us with such a splendid repast and delightful entertainment.
And now, on to the wedding proper. Nemesis?
And so, without further ado, we give you Cicada's Wedding Day as seen through the eyes of Miss Nemesis and Daltongirl. As determined previously by coin toss or lots or something, Daltongirl will go first.
Installment 1: The Wedding Breakfast
Daltonboy and I arrived at the reception center to find a bunch of people standing around watching a video. Murray whispered sheepishly that he wasn't sure whether Cicada would approve of the preview, since the video was part of the program for later, but he felt the need to entertain. The video was awesome, partly because it was backed up by some cool scat singing by Ella Fitzgerald, but also because it featured a photo of jr. high-age Cicada with a really tight perm and an unfortunate blouse, covered with a print of flowers larger than her head. Later, during the program, that photo got a huge laugh--even though most everyone was seeing it for the second time.
Cicada arrived, surrounded by her entourage, in the manner of a rock star.
I found myself trying to catch a glimpse of her out the window, just so I could say I'd seen her. Sadly, she was blocked from my view by a group of men in dark suits, so I had to wait until she made her entrance into the dining room.
We found our seats and waited patiently until the moment when we could devour the creme-stuffed crepes in front of us.
Nemesis joined us after almost running the entourage down with her car.
Being schooled in the ways of Europeans and High Brow people, she immediately noticed the classy raspberry curd on the table. I, trying to cover up my white trash upbringing, somewhat abashedly admitted that I had thought it was ketchup. And so it turned out to be, after Nem delicately spooned some onto her plate next to the creme-stuffed crepes. I was ever so disappointed that she hadn't glopped it directly on top of them.
By the time I had eaten half the breakfast, I had consumed more than my entire day's allotment of calories. Perhaps this is why, at 9:00 in the evening, Cicada could say to me, "I haven't eaten since 9:00 this morning, but I'm really not hungry." Seriously. SO delicious.
After the breakfast, we were treated to a short program, wherein both Cicada's and Murray's parents said nice things about them and their impending union--all true as far as we know. Switchback, the loveliest of Maids of Honor, proposed a fabulous toast. Murray's brother started out jokingly, but quickly became choked up in the sweetest way. Then Cicada's family plus Switchback treated us with this musical number, which we understand was a collaborative effort by El Senor, Captain Fabuloso, and Captain Mom, with Richie on guitar.
Sung to the tune of John Prine's "Dear Abby."
Dear Abby
(girls)
Dear Abby, Dear Abby,
My life ain't so great.
I've come out of college with barely a date.
I had a great future worked out in my head.
But now I live with my brother instead.
Signed,
Old Spinster
(boys)
Dear Abby, Dear Abby,
I live all alone.
I bought me a car, and I bought me a home.
I've spent many years to build me this nest,
But now all I need is a bird to come rest.
Signed,
Bird Watcher
(girls and boys together)
Old Spinster, Bird Watcher,
You have no complaint.
You are what you are and you ain't what you ain't.
So listen up Spinster, and Bird Watcher too:
Be patient. One day all your dreams will come true.
Signed,
Dear Abby.
(girls)
Dear Abby, Dear Abby,
I give up on love.
My family's been praying for help from above.
I edit and bike and I work on my blog.
I'm busy, successful, and have a great job.
Signed,
Still Patient
(boys)
Dear Abby, Dear Abby,
I have to work fast.
I often am told that my best years are past.
I go to church with the singles but don't have a doubt
That when I turn thirty they're kicking me out.
Signed,
Dejected
(boys)
Dear Abby, Dear Abby,
Oh, what's apropos
When you've fallen in love with a girl you don't know?
I read all her stories and she sounds so sweet.
This is surely a girl that I'd like to meet.
Signed,
Web Lurker
(girls)
Dear Abby, Dear Abby,
I never could see
That Internet dating was in store for me.
I googled his records and he came up clean.
So with friends in tow we ate Indian cuisine.
Signed,
Optimistic
(boys and girls together)
Dear Abby, Dear Abby,
The time has been short.
It's just been six months since we started to court.
Today we will marry--to the temple we'll go.
Our future together will be great, we know.
Signed,
Just Married
And what could top that, you wonder? Well. Cicada decided to give her single days a proper send off by reciting some poetry, written especially for the occassion. You may recall that in the past, she had gained some notoriety for reciting bitter single poetry. So this was a fitting close to those days, but as she said, "These days, I'm finding it hard to be bitter, so you won't see a lot of that here." And we didn't.
After her sweet poem and some kissing, Murray stepped up to the plate by offering a little creative piece of his own: "For Sentimental Reasons," sung in the manner of Jimmy Stewart. Brilliant!
Thanks ever so much to the entire Terreno di Amore family for providing us with such a splendid repast and delightful entertainment.
And now, on to the wedding proper. Nemesis?
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