wedding week - the final post

So here is my last post about the wedding, since it's been almost a month now - probably time to get this up.



Thursday

We drive from the farm to North Forty where the reception will take place and most guests are staying. We reserved most of the cabins for Friday and Saturday night, with my immediate family and some friends coming in on Thursday. As it turned out, a few too many friends decided to show up on Thursday, and sleeping spaces were at a premium. The weekend's shopping (we got too much food) was done during the afternoon. The food was packed away, the accommodations were all sorted out (although I almost ended up without a spot). Then away to Whitefish we went. Kirsten's bridesmaids actually organized a bachelorette party, or at least made of list of who would be around, and invited them to eat and drink. The guys weren't as organized, but it hardly mattered. Everyone piled into cars (we had two volunteers for designated drivers - excellent) then piled into bars. I had the presence of mind to order food before the shots started coming, then no more presence of mind. More drinks appeared - I don't think I bought many. Bars were hopped. Near the end of the night, we found ourselves in a bar with live poker tables. I managed not to lose all of my money. Closing time, we all made it back to the cabins. More drinks appeared, and I remember talking late into the night and then the morning, although I don't know about what. I went to bed slightly after one of our friends woke up and left to get a sunrise picture in Glacier.

Friday
It was a late morning for me, but not late enough. The rest of the family and friends poured in (although it seemed like most ended up coming on Thursday). The morning carried a bit of stress, not helped by the hangover. Kirsten fielded some calls from her dad, who ended up unable to make the wedding (this was known to be a likely proposition, but still caused some stress). Food preparation for the evening's meal started in earnest, with my family putting most of it together. Kirsten and I, along with a few others, headed to Glacier to scout the wedding location and choreograph the wedding. Jobs had been handed out and all were accomplished. The dinner (no rehearsal) was a hit. Friends and family mingled. An uncle was costumed. Gifts were given to my aunt and uncle for their 60th birthdays, and to my mom and dad for their 30th anniversary. A game was played. People retired early, to recover from Thursday night. (Everyone, as far as I'm aware, was in by midnight).

Saturday

The morning was still earlier than I would have liked, but far better than Friday's. Pancake breakfast fortified everyone. We enlisted guest to help erect a large tent for outdoor seating, as well as setting up tables and chairs. Others put together and set up decorations. Food catered for the reception arrives. Flowers arrive. (A small relief, since I made the arrangements). Kirsten leaves to have her hair done. A near crisis - the only real one of the weekend - I realize I forgot the cord to hook up music to the sound system. Kirsten wants music. I want music. I enlist sister's boyfriend to pick up new cord. He does. Crisis averted.
The morning seems to be a lot of rushing around, making sure everything is done. Then iron and put on wedding outfit. It seems all is done, now an hour to kill before heading out for photos. Someone remembers we should eat - good call. Photos are taken. Everyone arrives. (The parking was a worry, but doesn't seem to be an issue). Group portraits are done, everyone mingles. Our lemonade stand (served by my sister and her boyfriend) is a hit. It was 100 degrees Thursday and Friday. Today it's almost cool at 85. Everyone is seated, at 3:30 the music starts. Everyone in the seats pulls out their cameras. Ceremony goes well - music, reading, vows, reading, done. Everyone is invited to wade into the lake, most do. More photos. People head back to the cabins. Kirsten and I take our time, have ice cream at the nearby park village. (They don't have root beer floats. We order a root beer and a scoop of ice cream to dump together. Now we have root beer floats.)
We arrive, reception can start. Toasts, cake, food, keg, wine, talking. People sit inside and out. More mingling. First dance, then no dance (the music was good, but people were more interested in talking and drinking than dancing). Second keg is sent for, just in time. We open presents. More talking. Some late-night dancing when friends hijack the play list. The hall is to be vacant at midnight, so the keg is moved. It was a poor location choice, some of the guests who had intended to be sleeping no longer were after the keg and its attendant loudness were relocated. The frivolity went on into the early morning. Kirsten and I retired at 3 a.m. Reliable sources tell me the keg gave out at 4:30 a.m., when the remaining partyers drifted to bed.

Sunday

I try for an early morning, but I find the work I'd intended to help with is already mostly finished. We try to find places to put all the unused food. Again a morning of rushing, as people try to pack up and say goodbye. We arrange to have lunch with a group of friends. It's a slow-moving crowd. Afterward, Kirsten and I go back to the park with our photographers. We pose for portraits in the scenery for hours. And more hours. Just before the sun sets, we set up camp.

Monday

We plan on heading to Canada (still with our photographers). I realize I packed our passports in a shipment headed back to the farm. Kirsten is worried - we only have drivers licenses. No problem. We get into Canada. Then I'm worried - we see a front moving in, with black clouds, wind and rain. There's a bear at the Waterton visitors' center. The bear crosses the road. We get back on the road, take a short hike and avoid the rain. The front blows over, sun shines. We drive to Cameron Lake. Nice. Another short walk, then back to the townsite. A few drinks at the hotel (no we weren't staying there, we camped down below). Campsite had no fires, but a lot of ground squirrels.

Tuesday

Back to U.S. We drive to Many Glacier. Then we take a short walk. Another bear is there. We see the cinnamon-colored black bear about 30 feet away, looking through a rotten log. My companions are interested in hurrying down the trail. Kirsten and I leave the photographers to the park, and return to the farm.

Wednesday

We try and figure out how to fit everything we've obtained from the weekend into our packs. It's a futile effort, although we managed to fit most of it. Two 40 pound bags each will tax the baggage handlers Thursday when we return to D.C.

zoom

Once we got to Glacier, the weekend rushed by.

It seemed like all sensory input had a hard time making an imprint on my brain. It was hard to remember what people had told me five minutes later; it was hard to stop and take in the weekend. I tried to make time for all 100 friends and family, and in the end felt I didn't get enough time with any of them.
Staying up drinking until the wee hours of the morning Thursday night didn't help; certainly it made dealing with Friday morning tough. But mostly, the sensation was caused by the sheer amount of details and people to deal with. I didn't feel particularly stressed most of the time, but I did occasionally feel overloaded.

I probably didn't have to be. Most of the details were taken care of by others; our extended families took on several chores, and our friends pitched in with free labor whenever we asked. But since I had dealt with setting up much of the logistics and plans I felt I had to at least check on most of it (and Kirsten helped with some of the details I forgot to check on).

In the end there were no major crises, and everything went well. When it was all finished, I just realized I had very little grasp on individual memories of the event. I can pick them out if I try, but the overall impression on my memory is one big blur.

down on the farm

Before we actually headed up to Glacier National Park for the big event, we spent almost a week with my family on the farm where I grew up.

As usual for any family gathering, several aunts and uncles on my mom's side (who grew up on the farm) came out to spend time on the homestead as well. This time, there were some extra faces in the July 4 crowd. Some of Kirsten's family, as well as my best man and her maid of honor, came out a few days early to see the farm as well.

This worked out better than I had imagined - it was some of the only real time I felt I got to spend with anyone all weekend. It's sometimes a bit disconcerting to show friends aspects of your life that did not include them, but also always fun to see your childhood haunts through a different set of eyes.

(Although my childhood home has been going through an extended renovation ever since I left 10 years ago - brand new floors throughout, a re-roofing with expansion and a full deck have been added. I think my parents didn't know what to do with all their time once four kids left the house.)

We arrived at the farm one week before the wedding, Saturday night. On Sunday mom invited the town over for an open house/pre-wedding reception (a decent proportion of the town showed up - 30 people). Monday we drove up to Fort Benton for the blood test (Montana forced Kirsten to get tested for Rubella, for some reason). Tuesday the friends arrived, and Wednesday was a party for July 4. The afternoon was spent at my uncle's, 10 miles down the road. Kirsten's nephews and niece stole the show, running around trying to catch chickens and cows, petting the horse and demanding, and getting, a ride on the tractor (the much-anticipated highlight for any 5-year-old).

The crowd moved back to my parents' for the evening, capped off by the fireworks. July 4 fireworks always kick off fairly late back home, since the sun doesn't go down until almost 10 and darkness doesn't set in until closer to 11 in mid-summer. My best man, Tom, had taken the opportunity to load up on fireworks, as had my uncle, and all of them were shot off.

Before the fireworks, Kirsten's young relatives had taken it upon themselves to explore this new farm, as well (of course). The photo above is the oldest, Bradley, carrying stalks of wheat in our back yard.

For those of you looking for a photo:



(Thanks to Steph for the pic).

wedding

As I was waking up the other day, my mind struggled to identify an odd weight on my finger. After a second, it clicked. The lump was my still-new wedding ring.

If I was writing a short story, this detail would serve as a metaphor for nagging doubt, or perhaps realization the marriage was dragging my life down from the heights of my dreams. Or something.

Thankfully, this isn't a short story. The weight isn't a metaphor, it's just an anecdote about my ring being too new for my mind to take for granted. The titanium ring is slightly raised and now prevents my pinkie from nestling up against my ring finger. My mind most often interprets this sensation as a swollen finger - to my pinkie, it feels like my ring finger has been injured and swelled to the point it has lost feeling. To my ring finger, my pinkie is insane. It's just a little bit of metal to haul around, most of the time unnoticeable. I'm sure before long my mind will become accustomed to the ring's presence and no longer bring nerves' signals regarding the ring to my attention.

For now, this marriage thing is new, but the ring is about the only evidence it happened. Well, the ring and the pile of newly-acquired kitchen products we need to find space for. Next month, I'll hopefully be covered under my new spouse's health insurance, which will make a big difference if I need it but none at all to my daily life.

As the wedding approached, many people asked if I was nervous. Generally there wasn't any nervousness, except on a few occasions when I wasn't sure some of the details for the reception would come off exactly right. But it was obvious the questions weren't about the ceremony or celebration itself.

The questions all had an undertone of "are you nervous about the whole idea of getting married?"

It is, of course, a valid question. Any major, irrevocable decision about life's path is bound to be accompanied by some nervousness. Especially if for you, like me, the phrase "growing up" sounds vaguely sinister rather than a goal to be embraced.

And there was some nervousness about the whole big-picture idea of getting married. For me, and, if she was telling me the truth, for Kirsten as well. It didn't happen as the ceremony approached, though.

For me, the real nervousness came not at the wedding, but rather at the proposal. That's when the natural and expected questions came to the fore: Is this really a good idea? What if it goes wrong? Does this mean I have to grow up and quit doing all those irresponsible things I do? (No.) That was a couple years ago. None of those doubts were seriously carried along to the wedding day. The big ones were dispelled over the past couple years, when, as Kirsten said, we've essentially been married anyway. Certainly while we were out of the country we were rarely apart, and we had to deal with the day-to-day details of living together and melding our different life visions together. Now, the only real difference the wedding made is I'm wearing a ring and I can get on her health insurance.

wedding advice

When we were looking into the details of our marriage in Montana we tried to find out who, exactly, could perform the ceremony.

Several people told us anyone could marry you in Montana. This was welcome news, since there wasn't anyone we knew in the area who fit in the traditional clergy/justice of the peace boxes and we didn't really want to hire someone just to do the ceremony.
We did have someone in mind - late in the evening after my brother's wedding, my uncle volunteered to officiate our wedding. I'm not sure he remembered his promise when we called him up several months ago to take him up on the offer, but he graciously accepted and did a wonderful job (complete with showing up to the day-before-the-wedding dinner dressed as a monk or jedi, depending on who you asked).

In the months leading up to the wedding, we realized Montana law did indeed limit who, exactly, could perform a wedding. I don't think my uncle falls into any of the categories, although I'm also fairly sure Montana wouldn't bother to check.

But rather than set us up for a possible headache, we found another provision in the law. Montana allows for a Declaration of Marriage without the need for a license or ceremony. Simply type up a statement which covers the specific details listed in the law, show up to a courthouse with two witnesses, pay the $53, and it's done. (Don't forget to get the blood test first).

I don't think many people take advantage of this option. Chouteau County officials said ours was the first Declaration of this kind they'd ever filed. They were happy enough to do it; they said it required less paperwork for them.



EDIT: I have been corrected. My uncle, is, indeed clergy. So we probably could have been fine under Montana's clause "in accordance with any mode of solemnization recognized by any religious denomination".

He says: The US Government is loath to judge the merits of various churches, so getting ordained through an ad in the back of a magazine is as legit as going to seminary in their eyes.

We were aware he'd gotten a back-of-a-magazine certificate. However, once we found the easy way out, we decided it wasn't worth it to check into how Montana determined if he was, indeed, acting in a manner recognized by "any religious denomination."

we're back

The Internet rumors are true - I did indeed get married last weekend.

We're now back in DC, so I'll get some impressions from my two-week trip to Montana (and the wedding) up soon. For now, thanks to everyone who made the trek to Montana or who sent us well wishes.

it's a dry heat

We're in Montana, and the countdown has officially begun - wedding is on Saturday.

Most of the details have been planned, now it's just case of putting the plans into reality and making sure nothing fell through the cracks. People keep asking if I'm nervous - haven't really had a chance to think about it like that lately. All the details can get in the way of the big picture.

I'm mostly looking forward to seeing everybody. My family has started to arrive, and a few friends will show up on the farm before heading to Glacier. Thursday we head north to meet everyone else up at the Park and further stress about the details. Thankfully, we should have a day or two in the park afterward to decompress.

Also have to enjoy ourselves this week. The weather out here beats D.C. - it was close to 90 yesterday, but no humidity means the shade is cool. And it actually gets cooler once the sun goes down. Might hit 100 this weekend - stay out of the sun (especially if you happen to have a hangover, as I'm sure I won't at any point).

Hold it up
Originally uploaded by slack13.

Central Montana has been cold lately - a few days of 1° highs and around -15° lows. Looking through the travel pictures reminds me what it's like to be warm - like in Bangkok. It was about 80° most days, had to be about 90° the day we arrived, and humid. Also, while we were in Southeast Asia, it rained nearly every day. Luckily, it almost always rained early in the evening, when we were somewhere eating dinner. Maybe a couple of times were we caught in the rain - only one I remember was in Cambodia, while we were touring one of the Angkor temples.

This photos was taken at a Bangkok temple, or wat. It was the wat on the grounds of the Grand Palace.