Weddingbee Blog

Where we had left off:

• Wedding schedule was thrown off by late makeup appointments
• I came home to find that all of our bouquets were dead, after our florist put them into the freezer instead of the fridge!

NOTE: As usual, my recap photos are from a variety of sources (father, family, friends, florist, me, and some from the “photographer”). All post-processing has been done by me with each individual’s consent and permission. You can see an example of a “before” picture here.

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I left the florist on the front porch, where she continued to try and salvage what was left of our bouquets. I’m sure that at that point, had my pulse been taken, it would have resembled the rat-ta-tata of a jackhammer. I. WAS. STRESSED. I tried to calm myself down by breathing.

HEEEEEEEEEEEE… HOOOOOOOOOOOOOO… HEEEEEEEEEEE… HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO…

I Lamazed my way up to the master bedroom, where I would be getting dressed, and was dismayed to find that my carefully organized command center had become the repository for everybody’s belongings. I couldn’t find my accessories! I couldn’t find my shoes! Where was my timetable and photo shoot list? My blood pressure rose to dangerous levels. I tried breath control again.

HEE HOO HEE HOO HEE HOO HEE HOOHEEHOOHEHEHE

It wasn’t working.

I did another lap around the house, calling for my mother (Where was she hiding? Where was a mother of the bride when you needed her?), and finally assembled the required personages to help me to get dressed. The photographer had arrived, dressed like he was going to a backyard BBQ. I didn’t notice right away, as I was still hee-hee-hoo-ing and trying to find my jewelry. My mother, aunt, and Sister Shortcake helped me into my hoop skirt, petticoat, and gown, as the “photographer”, my father, and assorted bridesmaids snapped away.

{my aunt and Sister Shortcake help fluff out my petticoats}

The master bedroom was quickly becoming cramped, and I feared that the bed, assorted furniture pieces, jackets, backpacks, and body parts of relatives would make an unwelcomed appearance into the photos. Our “photographer” assured us that they wouldn’t (…they did, and consequently it took 45 minutes to two hours to edit disembodied hands/bags/bed blankets/etc. out of each of his photos). He continued taking photos, but I became suspicious, and insisted that we move downstairs to the living room, where there would be more space.

The original plan had been to take photos outside in my mother’s beautiful garden, but it had already begun to drizzle, so we were forced to make do, inside.

Youngest Sister Shortcake put on my veil.

I had actually purchased two veils, one chapel length and one cathedral length, but on the day of the wedding, decided to only wear the chapel length veil - the long one would have been longer than the aisle in our tiny church!

“Hey! Watch where you’re putting those bobby pins, missy!”