In spite of what we see in the movies and on television, the outdoor wedding isn’t always the lovely, fair-weather affair we imagine it to be. First, there are the usual outdoor hazards we deal with every time we spend time in the great outdoors. Things like allergies, annoying insects, sunburn, uncomfortable temperatures, capricious breezes or downright wicked winds and of course rain.
Most of these can be dealt with satisfactorily with a little advance planning and a bit of luck. Inviting only guests known to be “outdoor people” helps too, as they are more patient and understanding and aren’t so likely to blame you personally for the caprices of Mother Nature. Even if you plan to have the wedding and reception on the lawn amid the flowerbeds, you should provide for some emergency shelter just in case of rain, intolerably high winds, unseasonable chilly temperatures or a blistering heat wave that might drive your guests indoors. Clean out the garage if the expected crowd isn’t too large; or provide a tent or two to protect the wedding party, the food and the guests daring enough to dress in their Sunday best.
For a relatively short period in my life, I undertook the challenge of baking and decorating wedding cakes, mostly for family members and a few friends. This led, I soon learned, to helping with other aspects of the wedding preparations, including cooking and serving some or all of the food, decorating tables, even (in one instance) constructing the bride’s bouquet. And, as was bound to happen, one of those occasions turned out to be a large outdoor reception in a rural setting. This was in June, and as we all know, June can be a lovely time of year in Iowa… in between thunderstorms, hail and tornado threats.
The happy couple recruited lots of helpful friends to see to the preparations. There was a beer tent, furnished with ice, soft drinks, ample kegs of beer on tap and other forms of liquid refreshment. Another small, open tent protected a cooking crew manning a hog roaster and charcoal grills ready to cook hot dogs, brats, and spicy chicken drumsticks and wings. Inside a much larger tent, were tables laden with salads and other side dishes, kept hot or cold as needed, and in one corner, protected by a fine net cage to ward off the flies attracted by the cooking meat and other good smells, was the elaborate four-tier wedding cake I spent many hours baking and decorating with my best butter-cream icing. It was decorated with handmade sugar bells and bright pink frosting roses. In anticipation (and hopes) of mild weather, the tent was open to the fresh air on three sides, though canvas sides lay ready for quick attachment in the event of a shower. Helpers were putting finishing touches on the tables, set up in three long rows, and covered with bright pink tissue tablecloths. Crepe paper streamers in white and various shades of pink and rose festooned the ceiling above the tables where the guests would sit to eat. Condiments, extra paper napkins and pitchers of ice water were distributed down the centers of the tables. A check on the clock told us the ceremony was over and the wedding party and guests would be driving into the parking lot in minutes.
A cool breeze greeted me as I glanced past the driveway toward the road where the cars would soon be turning in. I noticed a bank of dark clouds rapidly approaching from the northwest. The ominous smell of ozone meant only one thing. Rain. Within mere minutes the canvas sides were tied in place around the sides of the tent. The wedding party and guests scrambled through the first splatters of rain to shelter in the tent. Several leaks in the canvas roof dribbled enough water onto the tissue tablecloths to turn them to mush, red, white and pink streamers were being trampled into the grass and mud was forming under the tables. The bride’s mother stood, holding an umbrella over the wedding cake already dripping melting pink frosting roses down the sides of the white layers. The bride smiled through it all. After all, it was her wedding day.
A former volunteer and substitute teacher in the Solon schools, Milli is an artist and a poet living near Morse creating unique greeting cards and handmade books.