After the reception, everyone headed back to the house. After changing into my bonfire attire, we all congregated on the deck to watch some fireworks.
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| I'm ready for the bonfire; and, apparently, Caleb-son is too |
My Dad, quintessential firebug, must have been in hog heaven, shooting off fireworks to celebrate his daughter’s wedding. When there was nothing left to set off, Dad shot off a flare, which is hilarious, considering it typically means, “Help, my boat is sinking.”
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| Dad loves the prepackaged "finale cakes" - and bought a Suburban full |
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| Dad; or, "A boy and his cannon" :) |
With nothing left to explode, we started the bonfire. But this wasn’t just any bonfire; it was a designer fire. Why, you ask? The fire ring, recently built by some boys who helped during the “finish the house before the wedding” madness, is big enough that you have to actually get in it to tend the fire. The fire was a monumental teepee, perfectly engineered, and surrounded by red mulch. Yes, my father mulched the fire pit. It was a perfect fire to celebrate.
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| Fireworks + bonfire = legendary |
With the fire burning and music playing, we pulled chairs, deck furniture and hay bales around the circle, and enjoyed the beautiful night. The Milky Way was so bright and clear, it could have been straight out of a textbook. The temperature was nice and cool. And the beers, whiskey, margueritas, and other libations greased the wheels of good conversation.
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| Pinkelman pointing out the Milky Way; or, disco dancing; or, trying to figure out where the SOS flare came from... |
We had our friends and family around us, everyone animated and happy and glad to be together. I had wonderful moments with Sarah and Keith, Joe, Teresa, Chris (who was drunker than I’ve ever seen him!), and our college friends who helped close the night out with us. I reminisced about the parties Matt and I had thrown up to that point—our fantasy football buddies coming over to watch an entire Saturday of the NFL draft; our “no family allowed” second Thanksgiving for our friends; my thirtieth birthday—I realized that the wedding, the reception, the bonfire – these combined to be a singular, legendary night.
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| Cousins: Topher, Lesley, and Jack |
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| Bro & Sis |
Before bedtime, Sarah and Teresa and I pulled out the 1,287 bobby pins hidden in our hair. As things began to wind down, and people dispersed, Matt and I dragged ourselves to bed. We laughed and giggled and talked about how our day was exactly like we had always intended it to be.
The next morning, I woke up early to call Rainbow Shores, where we would go for brunch. Although they normally, stop serving brunch at 11am, I had spoken with the executive chef, and much like having the gocart track all to ourselves, I convinced the chef to keep cooking brunch until noon. We pulled together any stragglers who wanted food, and headed out.
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| View from brunch |
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| Rainbow Shores |
Brunch was wonderful, with tables outside and in the shade, right on Lake Ontario. The service was horribly slow, but the food and water and juice revived us all. With our bellies full, and our minds fairly awake, we headed back to the house to suit up for an afternoon at the beach…
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