Wedding Blog

So, go figure. Not getting married in Vancouver wasn’t the end of the world. I didn’t die of disappointment (unless weddingbee.com is heaven ), and our wedding wasn’t ruined after all. Not that we’ve actually had it yet… (aughh! somebody go knock on wood/pet a black cat/eat a ladder, whatever you’re supposed to do!)

Because our parental units had vetoed our original venue choices, we began to look at other locations closer to (their) homes.

And you know what?

Sometimes happiness lies right in your own backyard. Assuming, of course, that your home is in Langley, and your metaphorical backyard is the heritage village of Fort Langley.

*cue the Dixie Cups*

…because we’re going to the chap-pel and we’re going to get mar-ar-aried!

To people not getting mar-ar-aried, this chapel of love is also known as the Parish of St. George. It’s a teeny, tiny little church that was built in 1859 by the Reverend B. Crickner, the then chaplain for the Hudson Bay Company in British Columbia. It’s small, white and clapboard-y, and most importantly, has a bell to be rung.

It seats a maximum of 120 people, which to us, is perfect. Then guest lists on either side HAVE to be limited, and we don’t get stuck inviting someone’s second cousin twice-removed’s ex girlfriend’s manicurist’s neighbor.

It’s warm and cozy, looks great by candlelight, and just *looks* like a church. Also, the stained glass work is phenomenal! Look at those colours! (they go with anything! woot! woot!)

From that point, choosing a reception venue was easy, as it had to be in Langley.

So, I phoned a few places, made a few spreadsheets, made a map of the stars, shook some dice, and chose Redwoods, a golf club nearby. (Please excuse the pictures, I seriously couldn’t find any post-1999 ish)

It’s no Swan-e-Set - *tear* -but it’s close, cute, and has a lot of potential.

For example, it has an amazing view. And lots of grass. (And a resident bride who will be removed and put in a maintenance closet on the day of.)

(photo from Larissa Meade)

And although it isn’t the grand ballroom I was dreaming of, that marquis tent is uber romantic by candelight, and those stone floors are perfect for waltzing (or doing the Hustle, but that’s a whole ’nother post)…