We had been warned that our phone would be ringing a lot, and it was. Bob and Bonnie Buchanan hosted a marvelous brunch at their house, with Jone Reister serving many gallons of coffee to the Minnesota folks (what is it with Minnesotans and coffee?). Bob gave one guest a tour of the house, and that guy began giving tours to everyone else; it is a pretty neat house.
The wedding was at four, but Susan and I had to be there around two. I seemed to find plenty to keep my occupied; fortunately I still pretty much know where to find everything at First Congo: light switches, music stands, thermostats, full-length mirror... It was all something of a whirlwind.
One immodest sentence: our daughter was drop-dead gorgeous! Steve led a warm, moving, and very hospitable ceremony. I did not cry, I swear.
Our wonderful photographer, Kim Klein, kept the photo session moving, but it still took awhile, and Susan and I stayed to clean up all the - there is no other word for this - crap that the bridal party had left strewn around. Eric and Kate drove to the club in Bob Buchanan's SmartCar (the anti-limo). Most of the guests went in the shuttle bus we had contracted for the occasion. That had been one of Kate's bottom lines: "my friends are not driving after the reception!" Good call, and well worth the money. As near as I could tell nobody was blotto, but it is good to have no deaths on our conscience.
The club was (immodest again) more beautifully decorated than I have ever seen it, largely thanks to Eric's cousin, Paul, who hauled calla lilies over from Minnesota and decorated the church and club. Truly elegant. The challenge and frustration at a wedding reception is trying to extend hospitality to all of the guests, particularly you own friends and families: I fear we were only partially successful. It was such an amazing mix: our neighbors from our U.P. cabin, a dear friend from New Jersey, local friends old and new, Susan's family, and all of Kate and Eric's friends who have been precious to us for so many years. They came from Texas, New England, even Hawaii...
After eleven it was down to the hard-core dancers and party people, and they did not slow down until the music stopped at midnight. It was a special joy to dance with my nieces, who have grown into beautiful and very dear young women. The shuttle bus had to do a second "final run" at 12:20, the driver smiling tolerantly while being serenaded by a wretched version of "the wheels on the bus." Susan and I, of course, had to stay to gather things up, so it was well after one when we got home and began to clean the house for the Sunday morning brunch. Sometime after two we settled in for a short, fitful nap. We learned that most everyone else, including the parents of the groom, shut down the downtown bars, and some continued to party in their rooms until four. Amazing stamina, questionable judgment...
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