Virginia Wedding Day

Yesterday dawned with a steady, soaking rain which impacted on my plan to run on my old route along the Potomac.  Little did I know that my wife had conspired with her friend from the north to volunteer me as a cake transporter.  Her friend, with my wife assisting, had created a fabulous wedding cake but it had to be transported from the groom’s house to the reception site; did I mention the driving rain?

We walked over to the groom’s house from the hotel and found my wife’s friend hard at work finishing up the cake.  We were shortly joined by a very cute little dog.  I don’t usually like small dogs but this little guy was a real charmer and acted like a dog instead of a hyperactive rat.  Those illusions were shattered when the groom came in to take the dog outside and put a hot pink sweater on the “dog” before taking her outside.

The "Dog"

I was nervous since I was charged with carrying the fairly heavy cake out to the car.  We jury rigged some cookie sheets to support the cake.  My wife assisted by dropping a very heavy weighted section of the cake scale on the foot of her friend.  I was standing next to her at the time with the cake in my hands so while I felt bad for her friend I’m glad she missed me.  It was a funny cavalcade as I carried the cake to the back of the friend’s car while my wife kept an umbrella poised over the cake.

T

The Cake

We loaded the cake and made the eight mile drive through the rain to the reception site.  Since the friend had a section of the cake in her lap she couldn’t put her seatbelt on which meant we had the seatbelt alarm going off for the entire trip.  My wife augmented this auditory extravaganza by repeatedly warning me constantly to drive safely since we had the wedding cake in the back.  I was very happy when we finally reached the site, if only to escape the noise.

The Cake Delivery Vehicle at The Farm

The reception site was the Washington River Farm which was a farm owned by George Washington just a few miles from Mount Vernon.  I walked in and tried to find somebody and eventually just yelled at top of my lungs which finally produced a very concerned person from upstairs.  We emptied out the staff refrigerator and I got the cake into the refrigerator, so relieved I hadn’t ruined the day by dropping the cake.

Breakfast Bliss

We returned to the hotel and my wife and I wandered around Old Town and had breakfast at a very cool little bistro.  My wife chose the place and it had chocolate in the title, so win. 

The Old Ireland's Own Location

Pat Troy Survives!

We returned to the hotel where my wife contemplated an apparent hair emergency.  She was deciding whether to find a hairdresser to help or try to handle the emergency herself.  Since I would not have a vote in this debate I took a little walkabout to visit some old sites in Alexandria.  The rain had stopped so I went to pay homage to the location of Ireland’s Own – my favorite Irish bar from the 1980s.  To my immense pleasure I discovered that the owner of Ireland’s Own had opened another Irish bar directly around the corner so I felt better.  In my early morning walk I noticed a place called the Burger Joint – so of course I patronized there for a quick lunch.  It was an obvious Five Guys rip off but the burger was awesome so I forgave them. 

Inside the Burger Joint

I walked down to the Potomac and noticed that while it has been less than ten years since I was last there – a lot had changed.  There was a new Woodrow Wilson Bridge and a lot of new construction throughout.  I could see the distant Capitol building as I walked my old running trail, lots of very good memories there.

Capitol Building Seen From my Old Running Trail

I returned to the hotel to find that the wife had solved the hair crisis.  We got ready and after only some minor cajoling we made the short walk to the church.  The wedding was taking place at the oldest Catholic church in the US.  We ran into the mother of the bride outside the church and I found out I had been volunteered again to drive her to the reception after the ceremony, but no more cakes. 

My Wife and Mother of the Bride

It was a very nice ceremony performed by an uncle of the bride. We sat with our Maine friends who showed up on time; proving my wife’s friend is much more adept at getting her daughter to be timely than her father and I were.

Beautiful Bride Walking Down the Aisle

The Happy Couple Emerging to Bubbles From Church

We got to the reception site and had a great cocktail hour sitting on the veranda of the old farm house with great views over the Potomac.  I love history and I imagined old George Washington himself taking in the same view from his property and reflecting on how much had changed sine that time.

My Wife Adding to the Great View

The Farmhouse and Tent, Oh and the Wife, Of Course

My reflections were interrupted when I was summoned for cake duty one more time.  The now assembled cake needed to be moved from the kitchen to the reception area.  I was a victim of my earlier success at cake moving and thankfully I only had one beer downrange at that point.  The cake arrived at its final resting place and I went back to score a second beer.  My co-pilot from the trip down and I observed that short skirts seemed to be back in style for weddings.  We agreed this was a good thing.

My Reflecting Position

The dinner was in a huge tent pitched on a stone patio outside the farm house.  We were at a table with some great old friends and thoroughly enjoyed the catching up time.  Since Latinas were involved I knew there would be some serious dancing involved and even I underestimated that.

My Wife and her Two Best Friends

What a Great Time

The dancing took place in a small ball room and the Latinas just dominated.  We were on the dance floor almost constantly despite the heat.  My wife allowed a couple breaks (when the rap music was playing) and I used cold beer bottles applied above the hair line to cool down.  We had such a good time dancing.  I was completely sweat soaked by the end of the night.  As we made our way towards the bus at the end of the night a young guy called my wife over and said something to her.  She proudly proclaimed that he told her that we were the best couple on the dance floor.  I guess enthusiasm does outweigh talent in some people’s mind but I could tell she was a little sneaky proud of herself.

The Dance Floor

We arrived back at the hotel exhausted but I volunteered to go out for some soft drinks as I was seized by a sneezing fit.  I had to wait for about fifteen minutes because I looked like a deranged drug abuser with sunken reddened eyes after the fit.  A very long but totally enjoyable day spent with friends I love and witnessing two great young people starting out their own adventure.

My Shirt at End of Dancing