Weddingbee Blog

I did something today that I have not done in a very long time. I continued writing my recaps. It has been almost a year since Mr. Pineapple and I first married in a small cinder-block building in Clymer, PA.

When I last posted several months ago, cocktail hour was over and the party was just about to begin…

The Rehearsal, Rehearsal Dinner, Rehearsal Dinner Gifts, Getting Ready, First Glance, Portraits, Loved Always, Pre-Ceremony, I Thee Wed, Post-Ceremony Hugs, Cocktail Hour

After the introduction of the parents, bridal party, and Mr. Pineapple and me, began the speeches from Sister Pineapple, Krissy and the best man, Erik.

© Mary Mervis Photography

Erik and Mr. P were roommates throughout college and beyond. There were a few months when the three of us all lived together in a house with five cats. (In case you are wondering, five cats is way too many.) If there was anyone who could embarrass Mr. P, it was Erik. So, I have to admit I was a bit worried what Erik would have to say in his speech. In the end, it was lovely and endearing.

© Mary Mervis Photography

My sister and I were almost always at odds growing up. We were both very much into the arts, attending the same magnet school. We had all of the same classes and same teachers, but thought we could not be more different. She went off to Carnegie Mellon’s school of design for college and I almost immediately crossed it off my list of colleges. I thought I had spent enough time following in my sister’s footsteps. Well, somehow I found myself in a pool of orange-brown Jell-O, wrestling my sister at a CMU frat house a couple years later during the week of my freshman orientation. I won the match, and things changed.

My sister talked about how our relationship took a turn when I started taking her out to lunch on my meal plan. We learned that we were not so different after all; in fact, it was probably because we were so much alike that we butted heads so often growing up. Now we are both graphic designers (I still claim she followed in my footsteps on that one) and we talk every day. My sister’s speech was so sweet and it made me glad to be, as she phrased it, her twin born three years late.

© Mary Mervis Photography

Next, it was time for free-J Mike to cue the first dance music.

© Mary Mervis Photography

Mr. Pineapple and I had been dating for just a few months and we were at our regular spot (and rehearsal dinner location) Smokin’ Joe’s. Mr. P had disappeared few a few moments. When he returned, Howie Day’s Brace Yourself starting playing from the jukebox, and he whispered into my ear, “I want to play this song at out wedding.” And so was chosen the song for our first dance.

© Mary Mervis Photography

© Mingwei Tay Photography

A few weeks before our wedding, my parents were visiting from Florida. I had spent almost every waking hour painting and repainting our home. I was stuck on the wall along the staircase. I had peeled layers of wallpaper off the wall, paper that had been there for decades. It wasn’t going so well. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t get all the little pieces off the plaster. So, my dad and I got to work hanging drywall. As we measured and drilled, I asked him what song he would like for the father daughter dance. “Country. Anything but that woman, I don’t like her.” I guessed he was referring to Sugarland, “Yeah her, not her.” So I picked My Little Girl by Tim McGraw. It was country, simple, sweet, and not Sugarland.

© Mary Mervis Photography

© Mingwei Tay Photography

We decided to cut our cake right after the dances and before dinner. This allowed for the rest of the night to just happen, uninterrupted. We cut the cake without too much trouble - after we got the knife into the layer. Did you know they sometimes put a layer of board on top of the layers for support? We didn’t. Turns out you cannot really cut through the board…

© Mary Mervis Photography

As you can see, there was no cake smashing for us, which really disappointed my normally shy father. So much so that he requested a do-over:

© Mary Mervis Photography

Sorry dad, that wasn’t going to happen.

Next, it was time for dinner and merriment…