Well, the wedding is officially over. All in all, it was a hit.
The flower girl dumped her little basket of flowers in the isle and went on about her business. The bible boy managed to fulfill his duties, stopping now and again for a stray petal, without throwing the bible in the floor. The handsome British groom's adorable British cousin sang a lovely little ditty, and I didn't bust it in those (bride chosen) 6 inch heels.
In the past, I've prided myself for managing to have a little white-girl rhythm. However, when partnered with a lovely British/Barbadian dude with rhythm to spare, I look like a sad little white girl, desperately trying to regain control of her hips(in those heels, I was). Thankfully, he had pity on me, and (unlike at the rehearsal)moderated his pep-stepping upon our exit. We were glorious. I just wish I had him to hang onto upon entrance. The bride seemed to think that the maid of honor should be distinctive.
Oh, and here's the painting I FINALLY finished the morning of the wedding.
It's a little dark, but you get the picture.
The bride and groom were beautiful. They both said, "I do" and we were on our way. It was altogether a lovely event.