Saturday, May 14, 2005

wedding fevre

I adore how in Quebec, all the stop signs say, "Arrete!"

My friend J.C. and are sharing a room in the most charming little inn overlooking a giant mountain lake. We just completed a stunning lunch of roated duck (her) and boeuf bourgouinnon (moi) and have to gird our loins, or perhaps girdle our loins, for dinner in another hour. God, all we've done is eat all day- three courses for breakfast, lunch and dinner (plus amuses)- and lounge about, and then groan and whine about how full we are before heading down for the next feeding.

The wedding is to take place in half an hour in the jardin, and unfortunately for the bride, it is freezing today and grey and who knows how long the rain will hold off. Well, she did choose a wedding in May, which is so very unpredictable. It's been gorgeous every other day. Apparently in winter here, the giant lake freezes over solid for six feet, and people ice fish and snow ski and iceskate and sled across it. I'd like to see it, except I'd be hiding inside by a fire with sixteen layers of wool and a bad attitude to cloak me from the cold.

Ooh, they're seating people. I don't want to go out yet, because I'll freeze to death in my Grace Kelly dress ten minutes into the ceremony. Blech.

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