View from the Barnyard

Garth and Sarah/ Burning Love

Saturday, Oct. 13 was the day my nephew, Garth Swenson, joined his life with Sarah Mortenson (daughter of George and Susan Mortenson of Selby). Being superstitious I was relieved it wasn’t taking place on Friday the 13th.
During Sarah’s bridal shower I observed everyone groaning at the mention of shower games. I couldn’t resist my own version of the newlywed game. I forewarned Sarah they wouldn’t be like Catholic wedding instructions. For example I asked Garth if he was reincarnated as an animal what would he be? His answer – a monkey, ‘cuz no one shoots them. What is his biggest pet peeve?  People who make him eat food. Mama Gay and Mom Susan joined in to see if mothers do know best. Score: Sarah-3, Gay-1, Susan 0.
I dread the thought of smiling over and over for family pictures because I get that cheesy look plastered on my face. Sarah looks to be a natural smiler and also kept her sense of humor as the hours ticked by. When someone admired her gown she replied, “Oh, this old thing?” Misty informed me she caught a glimpse of red sequined shoes under the gown. Gay got her wish when Kent had to hold her hands in a picture. (Kent avoids public affection and every vacation Gay stops random couples holding hands as proof for Kent.)
What a surprise when Sarah’s attendants gifted her with a Tiffany bracelet. Sarah proclaimed “My first Tiffany!” I looked down at my wrist and thought of my 20th Shopko. Cole, as best man, was plotting his own surprise. He intended to slam the ring case on Garth’s hand just like Richard Gere did to Julia Roberts in “Pretty Woman.” (Darn it, he chickened out ‘cuz he didn’t know how Father Larry would react.) I would have fell off my pew laughing. I’m positive Father Larry would have laughed because he always eases wedding jitters with his sense of humor. His scripture included a verse, “A good woman is meat to a man’s bones.” He looked at skinny Garth and said, “I hope it works for you.” As they stood to face each other and say their vows I had to giggle because Sarah was positioning her feet like she was going up to bat in a baseball game.
Earlier when Sarah made her grand entrance, I had barely turned around and Sarah already had her dad, George, halfway up the aisle. I’m assuming Sarah must have been a track star. The photographer had to be on her toes. The married couple went down the isle to Elvis Presley’s tune, “Burning Love.” I wish it had been louder and every guest danced out the door.
The reception and dance were held in the Ramada Inn at Mitchell. The wedding party made their grand entrance with every couple doing their own freestyle. Kylie Forbes walked sedately beside Bob Smith, who was doing a jig any leprechaun would be proud of. Cole escorted Sarah’s sister Amanda and walked very reserved until the end and he let loose with some nuclear mojo much to the crowd’s amazement. Gary Beigh leaned over and said, “He gets it from his dad.” I replied, “If he dances on the bar next it comes from me!” Garth and Sarah made their entrance swinging their hands high and low like in victory. I would say that Sarah looked so radiant that Helen of Troy wouldn’t have held a candle to her. We were rewarded with  excellent kisses when the glasses were tinkled. The poor bartenders were swamped by us thirsty people. I walked right up and got a drink but Jim Grassel and Austin Olson commented, “Hey, we’ve been waiting 10 minutes.” I said, “I can’t help it if us old bartenders exude an aura about us.”
I watched the first dance then Georgia, Esther and I went out to catch the bouquet. Esther didn’t stand a chance against Georgia’s 5’11” height. Georgia gleefully caught the bouquet but may have knocked down a few competitors. Cole made me promise to stay awake until 11 p.m. or he couldn’t dance with me. He relented at 10:30 p.m. and I slunk of to my room. The next morning I regretted that I hadn’t mingled in the crowd more because I discovered Soop, Tim Sandness and others had gone to I-90 for breakfast and stayed up until 4 in the morning. That makes me so pathetic.
Congratulations,
Aunt Dee Baby

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