All partied out

Hard to believe; my first granddaughter is married. (She's not old enough. She can't be! Just yesterday she was a little girl! Besides, I'm not old enough, either. I was a little girl not all that long ago, too.)

Her reception was a dinner al fresco yesterday evening, in the garden of my daughter's antique church/wedding photography studio near Chilliwack. Guests: family, old friends (some I hadn't seen for over twenty years), new relatives, and a bouncing crop of youngsters. Dinner: herbed salmon, veggies from the garden, chicken mole and Mexican white rice, salad greens with fresh fruits and spicy dressing, pie and wild blackberries; most prepared by my new grandson-in-law, all delicious. Decor: white tablecloths under a white tent, white-draped chairs, tea-lights in white paper bags, shining glassware, brilliant dahlias from a local gardener. The usual ...

Lamps on a railing.

Gifts on a garden bench.

Last rays of sunlight on an abandoned table.

Then things got a little crazy.

Help! We've been electrocuted!

Damsel in distress (not).

Family tree.

Watching the hijinks.

The evening ended with a big, stuffed piñata for the kids, an outdoor "Photo Studio", with assorted hats and capes, Linda Ronstadt singing traditional Mexican on the IPod, laughter, everyone talking at once, coffee. I filled my car mug before we drove home, and Laurie talked to keep me awake.

I am tired. I feel old, suddenly, maybe even old enough to have a married granddaughter. Just barely, though.

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