Wednesday, November 26, 2014

A marrying.

C and I decided we would very much like to be married. Luckily for me, C wanted to do it with a minimum of fuss, too.

So, I had a ring made. C didn't want one, being the sort of chap for whom rings create an occupational hazard, so I gathered a few bits of gold I had stashed away and gave them to my market friend Clare, the wonderful and talented jeweller behind Small Green Leaf. The gold I had was a delicate too-small ring given to me by a dear friend, a too-large thin gold band (that, family legend has it, was discovered by my Dad in the 60s on the bottom of a pool in London where he was working as a lifeguard, having been employed purely because he said 'I'm Australian' when he inquired about the job) and a few little chunks that my Nana Mary had been keeping - remnants and offcuts from alterations she had had done to her jewellery over the years. Clare graciously allowed me to hover around her workshop while she chopped it all up and melted it down into the sweetest little ingot, and later presented me with a ring of undeterminable carat-age which beautifully fit my criteria of wanting it to look 'like something that had been dug up out of a field'.
The gold collection, Clare's crucible, Clare wielding fire, and the sweetest little ingot.
Next, we engaged the celebrant services of a jolly and champion bloke called Josh Withers, who was happy to come to our place and perform a brief ceremony that really just took care of the official bits as required by law. Easy.

The day arrived. The house was clean, Oliver kitten had been brushed. C ironed his good shirt while I got a haircut, and presently my Ma arrived with a van-full of flowers. She and my Fairy Godmother Helen had stopped at the Rocklea Flower Markets on their way up from the Gold Coast, buying masses of roses, jonquils, tuberoses, stock, delphiniums, lisianthus, and those wonderful waxy natives that I can never remember the name of.
Never one to wear white (or in fact any pale colour), I had found a lovely embroidered cream silk skirt from Zimmermann that I thought gave a nod to the idea of a wedding dress without actually being one. I wore it with a simple black jumper and a long string of beads.

So, with every vase full of flowers (and some buckets, too), our house smelled incredible and was completely bedecked! Helen tucked some tiny roses behind my ear, and we were ready.
C, me, and Oliver kitten.
Our nearest arrived, followed by Josh, and we stood around our kitchen table and said those simple, lovely, timeless words. There were smiles and laughter, and afterwards some champagne and cake. That evening we went to Mondo for dinner with the rest of our immediate families, and it really was the most uncomplicated, perfect day.
Me laughing about the transparency of my skirt, and me and C.
So now, we are married. We've had a road-tripping/camping Central Queensland honeymoon holiday, and I'm getting used to wearing my ring. Every now and then I look over at C and say 'You're my husband.' and he looks back at me, and says 'You're my wife.' and frankly, that delights me!