Saturday, the day of Emma and Toby's wedding, was absolutely sweltering, which made my valiant effort of finishing sewing a lace dress (that I have been working on for months) in time for the wedding a fortuitously wise move - the fabric is so full of netting that any threadbare excuse for a breeze goes right through it, making it my most well-ventilated piece of clothing ever (and requiring the use of a slip, so as not to be utterly indecent). Pic below!
Trust a pair of old spex friends to pull out all the stops (especially the groom, who wore a dark red frock coat and pale gold brocade suit) and make the wedding day a spectacular show - they wed at the petite Gunnebo Castle, and achieved just the right noble atmosphere by hiring an airily dressed string quartet to play Mozart et al. as the guests arrived via the long gravel slope guarded by a massive shrubbery.
The ceremony took place in a room with impressive cherubs in the ceiling stuccature (for some reason, the sculptor of said roof must have been thoroughly obsessed with rope tassels, as the poor cherubs seemed to be heavily entangled in them) and the smoke alarm had been artfully camouflaged in a suspended array of lotus flowers (into which it blended like a shih tzu puppy among kittens). The local female magistrate who did the honours of wedding them upset the bourgeois atmosphere only a tad with her red hair and blue suit. But the serenity of the couple in backlight against the open glass terrace doors was absolutely beautiful.
Funnily enough, when the bride and groom finally kissed, they did so with a surprising *BANG!* as one of the terrace doors (in cahoots with a passing breeze) decided to bang shut in a celebratory manner. The room filled with laughter and it all seemed very fitting.
After the ceremony the happy couple glided out onto the terrace (accompanied by a double fanfare!) to do the 'queen wave' at us guests before coming down the marble steps in regal fashion to be congratulated. Inspired by this magically almost-technicolored royalistic tableau, we hurled rice at them with hurrahs and gusto.
Afterwards followed a superb party at the local rowing club's digs, which had a wooden terrace overlooking Råda lake. In all, a hard-to-beat way of spending a hot and beautiful summer day. :) And they lived happily ever after, but my eyewitness status is questionable post-midnight when the newlyweds vanished from the party as if spirited away by a taxi or something. I believe they may be in New York by now.
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I shift now into feline mode; my aunt Fia's cat collection has been extended to include four six-week-old little fluffs of loveableness, one biscuit-coloured and three soot-black with varying wisps of white.
I spent most of that afternoon chasing kodak moments. Aaaaaaw.
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