Who's wedding? Ours of course. Well, actually, we were married a couple of months ago in Porto Morelos with our Family and Friends. As far as we are concerned and our rings as well, that was the day. That said, the government of Canada would not recognise that so we had to trot down to London Drugs pharmacy's insurance department and buy a license and call up a celebrant from the registry. Seriously, you can buy a marriage license from the pharmacy. They have an expiry date as well. So they are much a kin to milk which you can also by at a pharmacy. Anyhoo, D is all Quebec liberalism and could do with or without this pomp and circumstance. I certainly did not need the pomp but I wanted it legit.
To be clear, I am not entirely sure which came first... the Bowen Island sail race or idea of a beach wedding. Let's not speculate. It'll just end in frustration and eating an entire tube of pickle chips. :^0
Luckily, there were two celebrants registered in the area. I called the one with the more authoritative sounding name. I could not really envision being married by anyone with the name of a family member or say, Lulu or Joey or Benny. 'Who married you? Oh, Toby Smith.' Nope. Can't do it. No offense. GS could not have been more BC that he had to hike from the road to the cottage and came in dress shoes with no socks. Our friends B and H agreed to be our witnesses and have the ceremony on the beach in front of their cottage. We brought bubbly and a check and there it was. Our friends, the glory of the surroundings, sounds of B and H's kids playing and us.
What I had not anticipated for our low key day was that lovely H had planned such a lovely brunch. Originally we had thought... or rather I thought, we departing immediately on the 1pm ferry. H suggested that perhaps in future we should not let the sailors do all the communication for weekends like this.
What a day! They are off to a grand sebbatical in France for nearly a year next week but I cannot wait to make it up to them.