For our engagement Chris and I decided to have one party with friends and another with family. Having them together would have required almost as much organizational focus as the actual wedding, so we decided to split it and keep our sanity.
Round one was for our friends, and as I cycled around centennial park again, and again, and again (there are A LOT of one way streets in that park. And some very irate park rangers who don't like you to go the wrong way) I congratulated myself with how great the weather was, sure that the sunshine could only be attributed to my no backup plan plan (In the last year or two I have come up with the ultimate event planning system - never have a backup plan. Having a backup plan is admitting the possibility that things may go wrong, so if you don't acknowledge the possibility, how can it happen?). I was also sure that if I didn't gain a little more courage (due to a bike accident I am a bit of a slow cyclist) and finally overtake the rollerblading mum and her tricycling daughter I would probably die of shame before reaching the picnic. Luckily they pulled over and I was able to emerge victorious (I'm not sure they were aware we were racing).
Our chosen spot was Lachlan's Reserve and it was .......nice......... the problem was that Claire (my picnic set up crew) and I had just walked past another amazing spot near some pretty purple flowering trees and we couldn't picture ourselves picnicking elsewhere. 'It will be fine,' I reassured Claire, 'it's just around the corner and everybody will be lost anyway'. We settled down to picnic under a lovely shady tree. The phone rang. 'I'm at Lachlan reserve, where are you!?!’ It seems that everybody didn't get lost; instead they all found their way to where I had said the picnic would be. New rule - it's OK to not have a backup plan, but it might be a good idea not to move the location of the event without telling anybody.
People began arriving and with them came one of my favourite things, picnic food. Cheeses and tarts and cakes and fruit and dips and bread and brownies and meat and pastries and a million other different goodies were placed on the picnic rug. I had a brightly coloured metal tumbler full of wine in my hand and there was nowhere else in the whole world I would have rather been. Even if someone had rushed up and yelled 'Quick Mary we need you to come and be the new star in Neighbours as Dr Carl's long lost daughter!' I would have even regretfully declined. I say regretfully, because Neighbours is the best show ever and you should never disrespect it in my presence. Ever.
Much like neighbours we were all being good friends (I think it was easier for us because we don't try to kill or rob each other all the time. Is it bad that I'm turning this piece into a discussion on neighbours? Because I think it's lovely). Chris had brought a game called Jokari which involves two people hitting a little rubber ball as hard as they can (into the atmosphere, not at each other) to have it jerked back to them on a rubber string held down by a weight. It then bounces on the ground and the opponent hits it out again Men folk bonded over the challenge of getting a rubber ball made to bounce on concrete to bounce on soft grass (nothing says male bonding like a challenge), and the bonding got so intense that there was even what appeared to be a Harry High-shorts match.
After the games had finished we had an engagement photo shoot under the purple blossoming trees. The engagement photos mainly consisted of a bunch of us running and jumping up in the air together, or hiding our bodies in hedges and sticking our heads out. It was very post modern conceptual Dada and did I mention brilliant? Exhausted from so much modelling (and others exhausted just from watching us) we all lay by the pond or lake or whatever you would call it and drank our last beers as the bats poured out from the tree and into the dusk colored sky above.
We packed under darkness, re-gaffa taping the esky to the back of my bike (how else was I going to get an esky there?). Chris and I had been completely spoilt with gifts and as we tried to fit them all on Chris had a pot plants hanging from his handlebars and I had a bonsai in my handbag. We made it as far as the park gates before giving up and hailing a taxi.
When discussing the picnic later with a friend she remarked that it was perfect because it really represented what Chris and I are as a couple, two people whose favourite thing to do is gather those that they love, and share food and wine with them. Well maybe she didn't say it quite like that and maybe I romanticized the quote a little, but the message was there. We love each other, we love our friends and we love an excess of food and wine. And all of this combined means happily ever after.
Aww, great post Mary!
ReplyDelete