In comments on the last post (which was ages ago) Kim pointed out one of the flaws with my idea to give a replay of your wedding bouquet for Valentine’s Day.
After giving it some thought, I found another problem.
I remembered what my wedding bouquet was like.
We got married in 1984, before Martha Stewart took over the planning of all weddings in this hemisphere. I do not remember there being such a great emphasis on this being the ‘most perfect day of your life’ back then.
Mostly, I remember it as being a party that was meant to pay back all the other weddings we’d gone to, over the years. The motto was not so much “give the bride what she wants, and stand clear” as “Just give the guests what they want, and stop whining.” With a side order of “and do this as cheaply as possible.”
When my husband-to-be said, “And of course, the reception will have to be dry.” I laughed and said,
“You mean, like WITH NO ALCOHOL?”
And then, I laughed some more.
While his grandmother, the Methodist, might not be expecting cocktails, my family had not only drinkers, but bartenders. And there was one great aunt in particular who, if she had to pay for her booze, was known to sit in the lounge before the reception and complain loudly about people “Too cheap to have an open bar.”
So, there was no question that the liquor would be free, even if that meant cutting some corners elsewhere. And the flowers were as good a place as any.
When I went to the various florists in town, with my crazy/trendy/minimalist ideas about what I wanted to carry, I got what I considered irrationally expensive answers. ($30 for a bunch of baby’s breath, with NOTHING ELSE? It’s been 25 years, and that still irritates me. Pirates.)
So my mother suggested that I go to a friend of hers, who did silk arrangements, and have her do them all. And I thought that sounded like a good idea.
Considering some of the other ideas that my mother has had over the years, I am at a loss as to why I listened to her then. But for a reasonable price, I could get my flowers, a throwing bouquet, the table decorations, the boutonnieres, all floral bells and whistles.
What could possibly go wrong?
What went wrong, is that the florist had a cat. And she put all the flowers in an open topped box.
I bet you see where I’m going with this.
I was handing around the flowers, and one of my bridesmaids said, “The flowers smell like cat pee.”
In desperation, I sprayed some cologne on them. And then, they smelled like cat pee, and cheap perfume.
When I reminded my husband of this, he said “You notice, I didn’t get you that for Valentine’s Day.”
I said, “Thank you, honey.”
He said, “I’m not getting you that for your anniversary, either.”
“Keep up the good work.”