Yesterday was a different matter. We set off to attend Callum and Bron's wedding rehearsal at Darlington Estate, a venue in the Perth Hills, at two-thirty for a four o'clock start. We began to experience slight anxiety as we watched the temperature plummet four degrees in half an hour, to nine degrees.
I understand that those who live in colder climes would blow raspberries at our concerns. However, Perth only has a handful of really cold days - under fifteen degrees - and our homes and particularly outdoor (!) settings are not geared to these kinds of temperatures.
Silly me. I had assumed that given the inclement weather, we would be holding the rehearsal undercover. With some shelter from the freezing gusts of wind. Wrong. We did have a gazebo roof that leaked periodically, such was the volume of rain, however, the sides were open to the elements. Apparently, Darlington Estate "allows" dropping of the cafe blinds in the event of horizontal rain and has an alternative closed small space in the case of a blizzard.
So, Michael dropped me off out of the warmth of Lily's interior at Darlington Estate. Fighting with the wind so my umbrella wouldn't blow inside out, I pushed my body down the sloping path to the spot where my darling son and adored almost daughter-in-law were waiting to commence their rehearsal.
We all scrambled for additional warmth of any sort. Callum lent me one of Bron's school jackets to cut the icy blast. The celebrant abandoned her smart jacket in favour of a padded parka. My exes (previous husband, mother-in-law, sister-in-law and brother-in-law) rolled up. All apart from Callum's dad, they had just flown in from Bundaberg in sunny Queensland and were used to minimums greater than our maximums...
The rehearsal was rather difficult. No microphones, so the celebrant had to shout and even then, was often drowned out by the rain. The roof was not entirely watertight. We had no protection from the galeforce winds. By a quarter to five, daylight was fading and a watery gloom descended on the gazebo. There were moments when I expected Callum's grandmother, aunt and uncle to abandon ship, yet either stoically or because they were frozen to the paving, they remained until the bitter (!) end.
The one saving grace was humour. We had to see the funny side. There was no choice. The rehearsal had to be endured, like Dimboola in Antarctica, so laughter kept us warm (ish). And Michael was nowhere in sight, as I had sent him to buy some dress wool trousers to wear on Saturday. There was no way he could have been in attendance without health consequences.
We are all hoping the weather on Saturday 4 August improves for the kids. The forecast isn't exactly tropical. And that those attending take note of the groom's impassioned pleas to dress warmly.
I have contingency plans in place for both Michael and me. We may not be able to move, but I guarantee we will be dressed appropriately for the simultaneous nuptials and polar expedition.
They only have eyes for each other...
even when they are in disguise!
The Proposal in Venice July 2017
Callum's best man is the geezer in the middle...
The weather yesterday was not nice...
but the kids took it in their stride.
Meanwhile, on the Swan River foreshore...
and on top of Bluff Knoll in the Stirling Ranges (Great Southern).
Possible temporary measure for the bride...
But nothing is going to spoil their day. Love and happiness, always, for Callum and Bronwyn.
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