Royal Weddings

On this day of the Royal Wedding of Prince William and his lovely bride, Kate, I find myself harkening back to another Royal Wedding.  The most special and wonderful wedding I can recall took place on October 24, 1998.  That was the day I wed my beloved husband.

Ours was without pomp and circumstance.  Ours was sans grandiosity.  Ours was small and simple and the guest list was short.  I wore a pretty beaded champagne-colored lace column dress (back when I had the body to pull THAT off!).  Marty looked brilliant in his tuxedo and Spencer wore one to match (so cute I can hardly stand the enormity of the memory!).  We married at 6pm on a Saturday, the day the clocks were to turn back, at the Kelley Chapel.

If you are not from the Cape or you are not familiar with the Kelley Chapel – it is a magical, little historic chapel off the beaten path (literally) surrounded by beautiful trees in their full Autumnal regalia with small wooden pews and a wood-burning stove.  I wrote the vows and Marty’s mom said a prayer at the beginning.  Marty was sweating like he had just run the Boston Marathon!  Our guests all held candles which lit the chapel in the most perfect way.

Marty’s brother and his wife threw us a modest but lovely reception at their hotel and we had the pleasure of interacting with all of our closest family and friends in a comfortable and relaxing environment.  Our cake was magnificent and decorated exactly as I envisioned it and Marty did not shove it into my face like an uncivil beast!  (I do not know who started THAT tradition but they should be publicly stoned.)

There was a moment in today’s Royal Wedding that brought tears to my eyes.  Prince William was standing at the altar when his bride joined him and he mouthed to her, in a seemingly private moment, “You look beautiful” – and I wept.

Twelve and a half years ago, I walked down the aisle of the Kelley Chapel to join my groom, my husband-to-be, at the altar and he whispered to me, “You look beautiful.”

If the new Duchess of Cambridge is as fortunate as I have been, a dozen years from now her husband, the Duke, will still be telling her she is beautiful every day of her life, as mine does.

Magically delicious

Cold rain.  No, cold rain is not magically delicious.  I’ll get to that.

As is so often the case, I awoke at 1:22am and was never able to go back to sleep.  [sigh]  I watched inane television programs recorded on my DVR, I channel-surfed and awaited morning.  Through the night, I was witness to an amazing show of lightning which lit up the yard like eery daylight, followed by the low, guttural rumbling of thunder.  I was preparing my mental To Do List for the day when I realized that we are completely out of bread and my husband would be without the necessary ingredients for his tasty lunchtime treat of ham and cheese on rye.

Damn.  I’d have to make an early morning run to the grocery store.  Not the end of the world, to be sure, but not my favorite activity either.  And the only thing worse than going to the grocery store at 7am is going to the grocery store at 7am in the cold rain.  It’s not even so much the going IN to the grocery store in the cold rain.  It’s the coming OUT of the grocery store in the cold rain with groceries to put in the car that really chaps my considerable ass.  And, yes, of course the wind was blowing too.  (Come on.  It’s Cape Cod.  The wind is almost always blowing.)

I pulled my sweatshirt hood over my head and pulled the strings tight to minimize exposure to the miserably cold rain and bustled to my car.  My key remote battery has been failing lately and on this lovely morning, it didn’t work, so I fumbled with the keys and dropped them in a puddle.  Sure.  Of course.  Pelted with huge, cold raindrops, my groceries were getting soaked (cardboard boxes turning to mush, plastic containers dripping and slippery) and my glasses were splattered with rain.  Ugh.

I am proud to say, though, that I still took the shopping cart to the cart corral like a good do-bee.  After all, I knew that I had decided to treat myself to a guilty pleasure as reward for my Big Sacrifice (going to the grocery store in the cold rain).  I felt like I owed myself a little treat.

Lucky Charms.  They’re magically delicious.  I had one bowl for breakfast and I’m having a second bowl for lunch.  I think I’ll even read the back of the box and see if it’s as entertaining and fascinating as it was when I was 8.  I’ll let you know.