admin On August - 18 - 2013

So a little caveat on the title of this post: it is not in any way meant to reflect the psychiatric health of her younger sister (aka: me).

Hardly a surprise that this is one of my favourite pics from the wedding!

Hardly a surprise that this is one of my favourite pics from the wedding!

But yes, my big little (shrimpy short) sister finally got hitched! And ‘twas a lovely day indeed! Although I, of course, could have beaten my sister to an inch of her life in the days preceding it, it ended up being exactly the kind of wedding anyone would want. She looked beautiful, he looked handsome, the weather in Vancouver was stunning, the ceremony took place overlooking the Pacific ocean, there was the most beautiful poetry reading (given by William B. Davis, no less!), a Sentes gal reunion, a long overdue visit from our English family members, delicious brunchie goodness, and cupcakes.

If I lived in vancouver, I'd have made the cupcakes too. She had to settle with me making the display.

If I lived in vancouver, I’d have made the cupcakes too. She had to settle with me making the display.

Seriously, William B. Davis's readings were just glorious.

Seriously, William B. Davis’s readings were just glorious.

And bonus points, I managed to integrate a wee bit of obscenity into the classy event! Being the crafty gal I am, I was commissioned with the task of creating a bouquet. Given their literary backgrounds, and our entire family’s obsession with books, I decided to make a paper bouquet out of an old book. But of course, also being me, I had left things a tad late. It was just a couple days until I was due to fly out and when I headed to the local Goodwill to pick up a book to destroy (such blasphemy), the only book that a) was in English (I live in the Frenchest part of the city), and b) had large enough and with pliable enough pages to work with, was a vintage copy of ye olde

Bracelet with my dad's signature I had made for her. Old Jeb was surely with us!

Bracelet with my dad’s signature I had made for her. Old Jeb was surely with us!

Encyclopedia of Sex (volume I, I went back for volume II, but alas it had been snapped up).

Teeheehee...erotic...

Teeheehee…erotic…

Now cutting out the petals and plying them onto stems is enough of a task in itself, but having to scour each page to omit the more obviously offensive words about doubled my time. Clearly, I steered well away from the chapters on bestiality and incest and set my scissors to those on the relationship between art, literature, and history first. But I ran out of ‘cleaner’ pages quite quickly. So inevitably more than a few choice words made their way into the bouquet. But at the end of the day, aren’t those the types of keepsakes one really wants from that special day? Right? Right? And at least I made the sure the smaller take-home table pieces were from a less explicit tome (at least I think it so—it was in French and there is always the possibility there’s a swear or two in la belle langue I don’t know yet).

From a distance, oh so classy!

From a distance, oh so classy!