My wedding day is in less than one year. Three hundred and sixty-two days, for those of you who take the exact countdown a little more seriously. Over the weekend, we met with caterers, discussed ceremony times, considered flowers (do we really need to hire a florist?), and looked at lodging options for guests. Oh yes, it's begun.
But before I get into any more wedding details, there's this.
This meal really has nothing to do with wedding plans, except for the fact that I ate it at a little joint in Michigan right after meeting with the first caterer. It was a barbecue pork sandwich with coleslaw and potatoes, and it was just my kind of meal -- comforting, messy, and served in a quirky little dive restaurant in a small town in Southwest Michigan.
I just love those little gems on the side of the road. They're not much to look at from the outside, but once seated inside and digging into what could easily pass as a home-cooked meal, you get to wondering why there aren't more of these places around. And then you quickly realize that if there were more around, they'd become the same as everywhere else.
That's what Murdo and I were straying away from when we began our search for the perfect wedding location: the same. A traditional banquet hall just wouldn't work for us. We looked at several locations that seemed "different." A hotel on the beach, for example, or a barn in the country, or this one place with a wall of ceiling-to-floor windows that overlooked a lovely lake and garden. Sure, they seemed different. But after meeting with wedding coordinators and looking over menus and rates and linen fees, we discovered that these places were all the same, as well: overpriced, unoriginal, lacking any personal touch, and controlled by people who just wanted to squeeze money out of us.
So we decided to have the wedding in Michigan, at Murdo's family lake house, where we could have control over everything in a setting that is anything but the same. I like to think of our wedding not as some boring, standard meal found on every restaurant's menu, but rather as a comforting plate of homemade barbecue pork and potatoes, served in a quirky little house on a private road by the lake. (Yes, I just compared my wedding to a pork sandwich.)
The big day will be in September, when the weather is still nice enough to have an outdoor ceremony but cool enough to be comfortable in the sun. When the leaves are just starting to change colors and apple trees are in full bloom. If I thought I was falling for September, this past weekend in Michigan confirmed it. I'm officially in love. So in love, I think I'll marry September.
Oh, and this guy, too.