It was a crazzzzy weekend, last weekend.
My BFF’s youngest daughter got married. She (the BFF) is originally from Norway. Oodles of Norveeejuns vas ober here for dis vedding, ya! OOf Dah!. The groom’s family is from Turkey. They came. They saw Americans. They’ll never be the same.
They combined many of the rituals and customs of both nationalities in this four-day-wedding-extravaganza! Evidently drinking and dancing are universally recognized as the way to start off a marriage. ( I happen to know it helps the rest of the time, too!)
On Thursday there was a ceremony for the women where henna is applied to one palm of each lady to assure luck. I got a big blob of it in my right hand. A piece of gauze was placed over that and tied in the back of my hand. I was told to leave it for 20 minutes then wash it off.
Platter of Turkish wedding henna and accoutrements
The bride has henna applied to both hands, then a lacy bag is tied over her hands while the henna does its dying magic, leaving the bride-to-be with stinky orange palms.
Bride-to-be before henna
Supposedly it signifies purification of some sort. All I know is it doesn’t come off for a couple of weeks and it kinda smells like sour cooked spinach.
Then there were the belly dancers who tried to teach us how to shake that groove thang.
I tried it. I think I am missing some extra hinge-y thing in my hips that lets her do this!
The next morning I woke up, went to the bathroom, did my business, wiped and then saw that brownish-orange blotch and thought I’d shit on my own hand! It took me a minute to realize that it was indeed the henna and not me being nasty. Well, we drank some the night before…
Friday evening was more dancing, more drinking. Then some more eating, drinking, and then more dancing. One lady snuck a grab of D’Bear’s ass while he was on the dance floor! It pretty much made his whole weekend! LOL
Saturday, Wedding Day, turned out sunny and beautiful. The bride was radiant, the groom marvelously handsome, the ceremony poignant and heartfelt. Then there was more dancing. LOTS of dancing! Drinking and dancing and dancing and drinking! A good time was had by all…. I think. I know I had fun!
Sunday I paid the piper (f*cking piper!). D’Bear and I mowed fields for six hours in the hot sun. It’s amazing what a few Excedrin, a pot of strong coffee, and a tractor rumbling under you can do!
Not a DAMNED THING! I still felt like hell!