The groom did an amazing job with the weather, for yesterday’s wedding.
I awoke to pouring rain, and trudged through the deluge to collect cake and flowers over in Waynesville. On my way back, windshield wipers just keeping up with the downpour, I noticed an opening in the dark clouds – a perfect circle of blue with white puffy clouds, as if the Artist had decided to paint over the storm. Of course, it was directly over the Creek House, where the ceremony was scheduled. What’s more, it maintained that tiny bit of sunshine right through the wedding.
And although I do delegate responsibility for the weather to the groom, we both offered up a prayer yesterday morning, which was clearly answered. So, thanks, Josh. Thanks, God. Nice work.
Today’s bride requested a bouquet of purple and green. I thought to myself, “Purple and green? How in the world am I going to make that pretty?” Then she asked for a head wreath.
Ummmm, no. I know, I know, all the answers are supposed to be yes. It wasn’t easy to tell a bride no, but I wasn’t comfortable trying something so artistic, and I worried she would be disappointed. Her biggest concern was that she would bring a head wreath and it would clash with the bouquet. So. I told her to bring it. And early in the morning, when the dew was still on the moss, we walked the grounds and chose her ceremony site. She showed me her wreath – beautiful! It was green, wrapped in floral tape, and had two white silk roses, or ranunculus, and bits of silvery lavender heather woven around it. Now here was something I could work with.
None of the fuchsia pinks and red violet or mauve so many people call ” lavender” but the real thing. She wanted purple. The purple you expect in a box of eight crayons. But she wanted it toned down a bit, with that silvery gray. I was on a quest.
At the florist, my big plans came to an abrupt halt. “White hydrangea, for the center of the bouquet?” Nope. Mothers Day was last Sunday. Fresh out. Ok, white chrysanthemums? No way. Same reason. “How about just white roses, then? I’ll need them anyway. I’ll figure something out.” Certainly not, was the snappy response. (I didn’t say snippy, because I’m being polite, here, folks.) Raised eyebrows and a superior tone, words carefully clipped so as to insure I would absorb each one: It. Is. Graduation. Weekend. Ev-Er-Y-One. Wants. White. Rose. Corsages. Gee whiz, lady, I shoulda realized. Not having school-aged children any more, I had actually let that important piece of information slip right by me. (And hey. I didn’t get a white rose corsage for graduation. And -blush- neither did my mother. I’m such a cretin.) Humbled, I threw myself on her mercy and begged, “Can you help? What may I have? The bride wants purple,” and I stopped myself before saying, “and green,” because leaves are green and I didn’t want to push my luck.
In the end, I left with deep purple statice, light purple stock, white alstroemeria (Peruvian lily), eucalyptus, ferns, and a bundle of deliciously silvered purple larkspur… the exact shade of the heather in the bride’s wreath. The silvery green of the eucalyptus picked it up perfectly. But what tickled me most was the pair of roses. Not precisely white, they had been cast aside by the florist as unacceptable for her corsages. She said, offhandedly, “Oh, you could take those,” with a little wave. “They aren’t really white. They are a pale pastel green.” My life rocks.
Today’s bride, Lisa, tells me that a couple of years ago she worried about what her sons thought of Scott. They were all in the kitchen and she said, “I don’t think I’m going to call him anymore.” She turned around and both boys had stopped what they were doing. After a moment, the elder said, “Either you call him, or we will.”
While cutting the wedding cake, she announced, “Awww my sons got me a husband for mother’s day!”
What a special afternoon! Ok, it’s like this… Every state in America requires that you obtain your marriage license from the state in which you are to be married. That same license has to be returned to that office, in order to be registered (Register of Deeds) and recorded (Vital Records), and only then can the wedding couple get a certified copy of their license. That certified copy allows them to update drivers license, insurance, benefits, Social Security, etc. We get lots of couples here from out of state – or out of the country – who’ve never even heard of Maggie Valley, never been in this part of North Carolina, or maybe even to the United States, but they loved the pictures (and apparently the zany innkeepers) of Timberwolf Creek, and they come here to us, to be married. After the wedding, they have to mail away to our local courthouse for their official copy of the license, and all that administrative stuff is just in limbo while they wait.
This time, it was a little different. Our very Irish couple (Americans) decided to come on Friday, apply for and get the license, and bring it to us here. We then had a handfasting ceremony, with witnesses, who signed the documents. Our couple then rushed back to the courthouse and registered their marriage! To celebrate the completion of all this running-about, they went on to have a couples massage at Mountain Spirit Wellness, followed by a leisurely dinner out at Frog’s Leap Public House.
The cords are burgundy, gold and green. The burgundy represents romance, partnership, and happiness. The gold is for unity, prosperity, and longevity. The green stands for peace, sincerity, and devotion. And in this case, the cords were all from the bridegroom’s graduations, as he has more than one advanced degree – perfect!
The wedding ceremony (traditional) will be Saturday, no further government intervention required. Voila.
A handfasting is an ancient Celtic custom, which allowed a couple to make a marital commitment to each other, for a year-and-a-day. This was important in places like the rural Scottish Highlands, because it could be many months before you’d see a priest. This way, a couple could be married, and then solemnize their ceremony within the church when the priest arrived later. They wouldn’t be living in sin, and they didn’t have to wait months to be married.
As the handfasting is on Friday and the wedding on Saturday, I’ve explained to the groom that he now is expected to produce a wonderful anniversary gift on *both* dates, for the rest of his life.
He’s ok with that.
And may they live Happily Ever After.
Could my job just be a LITTLE more fun? I think not.
Ok, I’d like to think I’m fairly intelligent, but have to admit that it took me fifteen years (that’s right, years) to finally figure out that when folks leave here with a picnic basket, it should be a memento of their time in the mountains, not a Made in China purchase. Good heavens. Years.
Yesterday, Larry and I spent a wonderful afternoon with Judy (my bride c. 2012) at the Church Street Craft Fair in Waynesville. Only it’s not on Church Street any more, it’s on Main Street. I think that’s a topic for another day. Anyway. Did I mention that I’m easily distracted these days? Ok. Where was I? Oh yes. Years.
I stepped into a booth and was just transported. Not that kind of booth. I mean, I didn’t go into a time warp or start talking into my shoe or suddenly find myself dressed in a cape and a shirt with a big red S on the chest. Not that kind of transported. I mean a vendor booth at the market – this one filled with the prettiest baskets I’ve seen! Each basket was wonderfully detailed and carefully crafted. Naturally I asked about who made them and the very nice lady in the booth told me that indeed, she had. When I said that they were just exquisite, she actually blushed. Clearly she was pleased, but by way of demonstrating my sincerity, I promptly bought all she had in the size I needed. And I couldn’t be happier about that!
Walking through the remainder of the fair (and what a fair! bluegrass and bagpipes! not at the same time – I don’t know if I’d enjoy that – but the entertainment was great) folks were stopping me right and left to admire my pretty baskets, laced up my arms and held every which way.
So. No more made-in-china baskets. Now, when you get a picnic lunch here, you’ll have a hand-crafted basket, lovingly created by a local artisan. And Miss Laura Ann has burned her initials on the bottom corner of each one: her signature. All the baskets are different, with painted flowers, or braided rope, but all the ones I got have the curled wood at the top, which the artist told me is called a tulip edge. I got completely distracted by that, and we had a nice long conversation about tulips vs lilies vs iris. I probably thought of ‘iris’ because she had a whole row of them worked into one basket in a beautiful blue. Not quite a violet blue, but more like a periwinkle. Like an iris would be. The little Siberian iris, not the bearded ones – those come in oh so many beautiful colors, not just periwinkle blue. I couldn’t get that one because it wasn’t nearly big enough, but oh I did love the Siberian Iris blue colored tulip edge! See there? Distracted.
These are a generous 15×12 and 9 inches tall (plus the handle) and nice and sturdy, so they can hold a healthy-sized picnic lunch, complete with a pie. I do love finding a whole entire pie in the bottom of a picnic basket, don’t you? I mean, that could be distracting for anybody, not just me…
And you can take home your hand-crafted Appalachian artwork basket to enjoy for years. That’s right. Years.
We are, according to the USGS (United States Geological Survey, the official mapping service of the federal government) in both the Appalachian mountains and the Blue Ridge Mountains, which are part of the Appalachians.
The Great Smoky Mountains is a national park. While we are not physically in the park, we are colloquially in the Smoky Mountains. (USGS actually refers to our area as the Appalachian Blue Ridge.) For instance, Dolly Parton is ‘from the Smoky Mountains’ and sings ‘Smoky Mountain music’ and has an album called ‘A Smoky Mountain Christmas’. None of these refer to the national park, but rather this particular region of the Appalachian Blue Ridge, which is in immediate proximity to the borders of that which Roosevelt declared a national park.
We are, legitimately, in: the Smoky Mountains, the Blue Ridge Mountains, and the Appalachian Mountains, simultaneously.
This also gives credence to why the Appalachian Trail passes by us, from Georgia on its way north, and also the Blue Ridge Parkway’s immediate presence.
So, Great Smoky Mountains, Blue Ridge Mountains, Appalachian Mountains… it all comes together for you here at Timberwolf Creek.
I love my brides. You all know that I do. Grooms are pretty ok, too.
And they’re always saying, once the wedding ceremony’s done and they’re heading back home, “We’re definitely coming back for our anniversary!” I’ve taken to responding, “You don’t have to wait a year. You can come back on your 3-month anniversary.”
Today, Mary (who keeps my own house neat and tidy, and calls herself my Mary Maid), suggested folks celebrate their quarterly anniversary. Brilliant! And it even has a word: it’s a Quarterversary.
So, y’all know my life is filled with tongue-in-cheek humor and zany stuff. There are lists of “appropriate” and “traditional” wedding gifts for wedding anniversaries. But none exist for the quarterversary! I felt duty-bound to create such a list, as I am, after all, the Wedding Fairygodmother.
Without further ado, then, I present to you, the Quarterversary Gift List (Traditional)
Year
Anniversary Gift
Quarter
Quarterversary Gift
1st
Weekend Getaway (at Timberwolf Creek)
2nd
Ditto
3rd
2nd Honeymoon (at Timberwolf Creek)
1st
Paper
4th
Paper… gift certificate for Timberwolf Creek – surprise!
5th
Girlfriend Getaway to Timberwolf Creek
6th
Weekend Getaway (at Timberwolf Creek)
7th
Guys Golf & Fishing Getaway at Timberwolf Creek
2nd
Cotton
8th
Cotton… Timberwolf Creek bathrobes
9th
Weekend Getaway (at Timberwolf Creek)
10th
Lords a leapin’ (sorry, couldn’t resist)
11th
11 ounce handcrafted Timberwolf Creek mugs
3rd
Leather
12th
Leather… new suitcase – to take, guess where!
13th
Weekend Getaway (at Timberwolf Creek)
14th
Special Dinner Out -to plan your next Maggie Valley getaway
15th
Weekend Getaway (at Timberwolf Creek)
4th
Linen, silk
16th
Linen or silk… pajamas… for your trip… to Timberwolf Creek
17th
Do something extra special for the babysitter/dogsitter…
18th
Weekend Getaway (at Timberwolf Creek)
19th
Time to sit down and plan the Big Trip – to renew your vows!
5th
Wood
20th
Wood… picture frame… for your 5th Anniverary portrait
taken, naturally, at Timberwolf Creek -where else?
Dear Brides: Today’s wedding was particularly wonderful. It was wonderful because the two people getting married are -well, just great folks. I’ve enjoyed getting to know them on facebook during all the months of wedding planning, and Lynn and I have become friends. That’s always an amazing bonus for The Best Job In The World. But today’s wedding was remarkable for the ceremony itself. Louie and Lynn personalized their vows – as we encourage each of you to do, because the ceremony should be meaningful to the two of you – and they added something to the ceremony that I believe has been missing from the sample vows we send out to all our brides. You can bet it’s going to be in there from now on.
The ring exchange, such an integral part of a wedding ceremony, has grown and been refined over the years, until I’m finally satisfied with those words. And then there’s that awkward moment right before we take portraits when the bride transfers her engagement ring back to her left hand. It was a momentous occasion, always to be cherished and remembered, when that engagement ring was first placed, and so it is fitting that there be some recognition of that on your wedding day.
Louie and Lynn added this to their ceremony:
“The engagement ring is a symbol of promise and intention.
The intention has now been realized
and the promise fulfilled.
Louis, place the engagement ring, over Lynn’s wedding band,
to symbolize that the love that brought you together,
will always protect and sustain your marriage.”
Ladies, when rehearsing their vows, I had to read this aloud three times before I could say it without getting all misty. Because this is exactly the way I feel about engagement rings. The wedding band is all about deep, abiding love, and lifelong commitment, and the sacred nature of the marriage rite. That engagement ring is about the hope and promise of dreams realized. It’s about romance, and falling in love, and the thrill of finding The One. It’s pink clouds and roses. It’s love songs and being wildly happy and gazing into each other’s eyes and the amazement and awe of finding someone that could mean so much to you. That should all be there on your wedding day. Of course, it IS all there on your wedding day, but let’s take a moment and acknowledge it. Honor it. And make it part of the ceremony. Let’s take a moment to remember how it felt when the question was asked, answered, and the engagement ring was offered and accepted.
And, having done so, I hope you’ll think of that moment every time you notice your ring, every time it catches the sunlight in an unexpected moment, every time you hold hands.
And thank you, so very much, to Louie and to Lynn, for making that a part of my life, and for allowing me to share in such an important part of yours.
My brides are getting older. That’s not to say they’re aging– rather that my brides are more likely to be adults, with established careers, their own homes, chosen lifestyles, and a firm sense of their own particular preferences. This makes it lots of fun for me, because I get to see the culmination of their search for The Perfect Dress.
We’ve ‘seen it all’ at Timberwolf Creek. From gowns with eight foot trains, heavily encrusted with beading and embroidery, rivaling Britain’s royal weddings, to biker leathers and cowboy boots (on the bride). All have been marvelous! Once, the bride -this one actually was from Great Britain- packed her full length gown in a suitcase, and popped it out perfect and ready to go! It was crushed taffeta and gorgeous. An excellent plan. And while we’ve had designer gowns that likely cost more than the event, several brides have bragged that they got their traditional white gowns from eBay, for a song. So cost isn’t what determines what these women choose.
It’s the dream. A wedding is a Dream Come True kind of day. And the dress is just part of the experience. It needs to be flattering and make her feel beautiful and confident. For some, comfortable is a requirement. For others, not so much. Mostly, it needs to match up with her ideal.
And that doesn’t always include a big bow on the back. Not to knock bows! A sash on a wedding gown, with a perfectly tied bow, can be lovely. It can be smaller than your hand, with the ties hanging loose, or a great big picture-perfect bow with the center knot smoothed and the ties twisted under so that it stays straight and pleated just so, or a softly tied bow that drapes loosely from a gentle knot.
For some women, though, bows were left behind with pigtails and dotting their i’s with hearts. So, here they are, trying on wedding gowns in the quest for The Perfect Dress… and there it is… Exactly the right fit. Just the right style. Perfect fabric and embellishment. Maybe a bit of lace here, or embroidery there, or a pleat, or a smooth expanse of satin. Precisely the right straps or sleeves. Except… there’s this sash that ties in the back.
What to do? You can loop it over once, in a half-knot, and let it hang. Sometimes that looks nice. Sometimes that looks like your bow came undone, or that you forgot to finish it.
Enter the Sash Pin.
This is an opportunity just waiting to shine. The chance to really show off your creativity and individuality. Maybe you’ll use your great grandmother’s antique brooch. Or the pin your aunt wore when she eloped. Or a diaper pin your mother saved with your baby things. Your dad’s tie-tack. Or maybe you’ll choose something that matches your colors – a fabric flower pin, or a brooch of colored beads. Or a kilt pin. Or a cameo. Your Girl Scout trefoil pin. I Like Ike. Beam me up Scotty with a Star Trek pin. Or anything from the millions of jeweled brooches you can find. Glorious pearls and rhinestones – or diamonds and precious jewels – in every imaginable shape and color and size and style.
And suddenly, those sash ties are your chance to make a statement, and make The Perfect Dress uniquely yours.
Finally, a word to the ladies who like bows: you can still have a sash pin. Just put it smack in the middle of your bow!
