ethaisa

Okay, so I'm sitting here in the sem-darkness, enjoying the cool breeze coming in beneath the curtains. There's noise going on outside, lots of happy, teasing voices. I peer out, and see a hummmmmungeous white stretch SUV limo parked in front of a house a couple doors down, the house that just replaced their porch and has throngs of visitors all week. Last night, when we got home from our brief sojourn in Greektown (ymmmmm, spanakopita), we noticed the new porch draped in white veiling and ropes of flowers.

Ah, weddings....

So, this morning. The photographer and videographer team (yeah, team. I counted three people with cameras and at least two carrying filters and lights) are staging and shooting. The ringbearers are adorably cute, and there's the groom and his men. I think the groom is the one in classic black'n'white; the groomsmen are wearing bright charteuse waistcoats and corsages. One of the (maybe) flower girls is wearing soft lemon yellow. (I breath a sigh of relief I wasn't involved in the bridemaid's dresses if that's the colour scheme.)

Okay, so the head photo guy is staging and shouting directions, with lots of commentary from the multitude of family gathered about. The groomsmen are posing and leaning against the limo, trying to look casual and manly; the ringbearer is looking adorable. The groom is carefully ensconced between them; he looks both excited and terrified.

Then they move onto the moving shots, which brings them right outside our window. The voices grow louder, people fill the streets. The photographer shouts directions for the moving shots; the groom's party stalks up and down the street, looking stiff and ominous.

'Come'on guys," he shouts, "you're not a pack of mobsters! SMILE!!!"

In the no-so-quiet safety of our bedroom, I break into giggles.



Blessings to them, and may prosperity and happiness fill their lives!