Our wedding was held outdoors at a small ranch about 90 miles west of Houston. It was in 2007 so 7/7/07 was a popular date and the Wifeacita wanted it but I found it necessary to point out a few facts. It’s Texas, July, hello heat, outdoors, and her mother is in her 80’s. We quickly rescheduled for October. A note here, it rained every day for about two months SE Texas style but quit two days before the date and resumed 95 degrees plus humid so it would have been held in a hot mud fest.
The wedding had good weather and was quite a mix with my white guy family and friends, her Hispanic family and friends, after the ceremony one of her nephews told me in an exaggerated Spanish accent, “You’re one of us now!” So I got that going for me.
Our gracious hostess had a lot of her friends over and they built a bonfire.
The Wifeacita wanted sparklers so I bought a bunch of fireworks beforehand. By now the beer and wine was flowing and the locals descended on the fireworks.
The Wifeacita was happily wandering around the fire with her sparklers while the locals threw every firecracker, rocket, and whatever into the fire. I just got married and now she’s going to be killed by a stray missile so I whisked her away to safety.
I was later told that rednecks, beer, and fireworks are a bad mix.
It was an epic wedding and I wouldn’t change a thing.
Oh yeah, we had BBQ and it’s Texas so of course it was good.
