Even though our plan had been to greet our guests as they arrived, the transportation mix-up meant that almost everyone had already arrived to greet us, instead. Either way, hugs and happiness overflowed our intimate gathering. The cheese, fruit, and pastries were hitting the spot as we had hoped, and I think there were just as many guests opting for coffee and tea and there were for Champagne or our signature cocktail. (Not wanting to risk a spill but finding myself suddenly parched, I stuck to ice water until after the ceremony.)
Roadie and I wandered among our guests and I admit to being a more than a little happy as they started complimenting us on our choice of venue as well as our decorations as they asked about several items. The small desk that held our ceremony programs in an antique from the one-room-schoolhouse days that Roadie and I refinished together–I’d grown up using it as a nightstand, but it predated that use by many years as we found out that Dr. Aunt had used it as a child, herself, and refinished it back when she was in high school. And if guests look closely at the corner of the lid they could still see the impression left by Brother Scooter’s front teeth from a long-ago bed-jumping incident. It may not seem exceedingly wedding-y, but it’s a part of our family’s shared memories, memories that were added to by Roadie and I working together to restore it, so it seemed right to have it serve a useful purpose as we started this next chapter of our own branch of the family history, you know?
Our cardbox got a decent workout during Cocktail Hour, but folks were, I think, a little stymied by the cork guest book (despite a sign to explain the hows and whys). We ended up with some signed corks, but less than expected. Oh, well, you win some, you lose some.
Now, there was another hiccup during cocktail hour and that had to do with the music. I’d created playlists to run the allotted times starting with cocktail hour. I’d spend hours adding and removing songs to make the times work out just so, and labeled each playlist with the start time to make it virtually mistake-proof. I did this for a very specific reason as we’d planned to play a specific song as the transition between cocktail hour and the prelude, and the playlists would easily flow from one segment to the next. And I’d gone over this musical cue with the DoC during our last planning meeting.
The wrinkle came when the DoC opted to start the cocktail hour playlist early–while they were still setting the area up and we were still taking pictures down the hill. I’d heard the music start, but hoped (since there was nothing to do about it from where I was) that she’d reset it at the appointed time.
I’m sure no one is surprised that she didn’t, and our transition song played at good 30 minutes early. *eyeroll* I remember hearing the opening measure and whipping my head around, looking for the DoC. She adjusted the playlist to an earlier track, but I’m afraid the damage was done. Instead of the distinctive intro to Europe’s The Final Countdown (yes, we did, we totally went there) sounding at 11:30, the DoC simply cut the music off completely. Instead of the gentle, gradual movement of guests (with chuckles from those who got the joke) from one side of the fountain to their seats on the other, the silence made everyone self-conscious about taking their time and they all rushed to their chairs.
The other songs I’d queued up for before the parents were seated? They got skipped, too. And this is how we found ourselves moving up the timeline a good 10 minutes.
The Road Trip Wedding Recaps: