Although we'd been home for a week, there was still so much to prepare for that it didn't quite feel like we were back in the 'real world' yet. I had a nervous pms-induced moment where I worried that my wedding dress wouldn't fit. It actually kept me up one night. Despite Kev's assurances that I hadn't gained weight, I snuck upstairs to try the dress on with Nicole during the pamper party my gran threw for me the night before our reception. To my immense relief, it zipped up easily.
The next day, it actually struggled to stay up during our photo shoot at casablanca manor, a victorian-style venue decorated with towering columns, curtains of chiffon, and glittering fairy lights. Eventually, we had to resort to double-sided tape to hold it up. Kev looked sexy as ever, though, in his fitted pinstripe suit that was decorated with a white rose corsage, which matched the beautiful bouquet Suna had made for me.
During our speech, instead of tossing it to all the single ladies (a silly tradition anyway), I presented my flowers to my grandmother as a very small token of appreciation for EVERYTHING she's done for us. My grandad later told me that he'd been impressed by how Kev and I presented our speech together, making it possible for us both to thank our immediate family without becoming repetitive. By sticking to our script, I managed to hold myself together, but Kev eventually broke down when he decided to suprise me by detailing his love for me in front of everyone. Considering that he's normally against public displays of affection and generally not prone to emotional displays, I was incredibly moved by his speech. I still am when I think about it, actually.
After a delicious meal (with something vegetarian prepared especially for me, since Kev insisted on meat for everyone else), we opened the dance floor with a foxtrot to Nat King Cole's L.O.V.E - actually, it was more of a fox slide thanks to the very slippery floor. It didn't help that the dance area had been decorated with dry leaves scattered into a heart shape. While it looked lovely, it made it very difficult to get a sure foot. Hopefully, we managed to pull it off, though, especially because we'd been working on our routine since the beginning of this year.
Cutting the cake was a lot less difficult. Considering it was our third, though, we already had plenty of practice. From when we'd arrived earlier that day, everything turned out better than we'd expected. The candlelit hall looked prettier than we thought it would, the food was better than we expected, and the cake had been decorated exactly the way we wanted it. Thick white icing covered in little hearts and edged off with ribbon was blanketed over three tiers of chocolate, carrot, and amarula fudge cake, with hearts shooting from the top of the cake and fresh red roses spilling over the sides.
The best part of the evening, though, was when everyone took to the dance floor. While many of the older folk decided to say their goodbyes and call it a night at this point, I was surprised to see my gran, her sister Eve, and their friends boogying away. While Kev's Afrikaans cousins sokkied around the floor, their children tried their hand at an amusing version of the langarm, which basically meant marching around with one arm rigidly extended. Kev's parents waltzed a bit when the music slowed, and my grandad took my gran for a twirl as well. Even Sophie, who has been working for our family since I was born, got down alongside Jemina, Piet, and Johnston. The show was stolen by my cousin Dawson, though, who had just done a fabulous job as MC. Empty champagne bottle in hand, he became the life of the party as he played up to the camera with attention-demanding dance moves and antics.
Eventually and inevitably, it all had to come to an end. Kev and I retired to the honeymoon suit, which had been beautifully decorated with rose petals and candles. We collapsed into bed, ignoring the outdoor jacuzzi bath set with two glasses and a bottle of champagne, exhausted but completely thrilled by how well the evening had turned out.
And, just like that, it was all over. After enjoying the breakfast spread the staff had laid out for us in the morning sun, we packed up the remnants of our celebration and headed back to Pretoria. Well, it was almost over... There were still all those presents to unwrap!
