Wedding Bells

So, in my blogging hiatus, we went to the wedding of one of my childhood friends.Everything took place at Barnsley Gardens and the scenery, the ceremony and reception, and the bride were just beautiful. I'm thinking if I took Earl he would've stayed there with all the golf! Ella was great during the ceremony, which worked for me since the chapel was covered from ceiling to floor in hardwoods and the only music there was a harp. It was an extremely quiet (and quick) ceremony, and to my delight, Ella wasn't a distraction.

This is her best, "Mom, that camera is driving me crazy and I'm not going to give you any look that even closely resembles pleasant" "I am not smiling." look.

So, I took the hint for exactly what it was intended to be, tucked it away, and enjoyed the remainder of the wedding with my mom and my favorite girl.

I do have a funny story to share about the reception. Immediately following the ceremony, there was an hors d'oeuvres and cocktail hour (literally) while we were waiting on the wedding party to finish their pictures. Once we found our table, we sat down and started talking to some of the guests around us that we were seated with (the bride had us grouped together with people we knew, she's nice like that). I was a nervous wreck making sure Ella wasn't breaking the stemware, and held my tongue when she so quietly rearranged every piece of silverware at her place setting. Once the bride and groom arrived and they started serving dinner, I noticed Ella had something on one of her forks. I thought maybe she had used it when eating an appetizer. So I didn't say anything. Then came the different courses, starting with the salad. I pulled out a piece of bread and started fixing it (i.e: putting butter generously over the top. What can I say, I'm a southern girl?). Ella piped up and said, "Mommy, I want your ice cream!" Perplexed, I looked at what I was doing and then looked at her.

The butter was served on a small plate (2 "pats" on each plate) at each place setting before we sat down. They had used a decorating tip to put the butter on the plate, so it looked like two little icing stars on the plate. Then I looked at her plate.

There was not one stitch of butter. She had eaten it all during the cocktail hour.

With a fork and nothing else.