So this is all about the wedding of Jessica Kearney and James Jackson.
Jess is Dee’s bestie — they met in pre-school — and James got introduced to Jess through another bestie — Jess Jardine (who I will refer to as “JJ” from now on for obvious reasons — even though Jess is also now a “JJ”. Shit)
Anyway, the event was held in Kenilworth which is about 2 hours drive north of Brisbane at the original Kenilworth Farm House which dates back over 100 years.
Dee and JJ (and the rest of the Wedding Dream Team) had moved up there on Thursday to help with the massive amount of prep. There was a truckload of antique furniture, an arbor, a few kilometres of fairy-lights, booze, a fuck-tonne of flowers and other miscellany.
Of course back at home in Brisbane I assumed they were just up there partying and talking about boys and looking up youtube clips to dance to.
I woke up Saturday morning with the intention of knocking out a ride up Nebo with Scott, but I woke up at 4am and couldn’t get back to sleep so that idea was poo-poo’d. But when I eventually rose I couldn’t find my “good shoes” (even after a thorough search of the shed downstairs) and spent an epoch fumbling around trying to iron my shirt. Both the shoes issue and the shirt issue were eventually resolved and the car was loaded up and after a quick trip to the neighbours to ask them to feed the cat — I set off. And then I was forced to stop awkwardly to check my bags to make sure I had brought my belt. (I had).
Then I stopped again at Aspley to fill the car up with petrol and I checked again that I had in fact included my belt. (I had.) But also to clean the windscreen and fill the tyres up with air. I put some sweet tunes on and hit the highway. But then, within seconds, BANG! The traffic was suddenly frozen. About 30 minutes of travelling forward the car’s speedometre couldn’t even detect (and much fretting that I might get in all sorts of trouble for being late) I made it past the obstruction (some very bland-looking car accident) and I was on my way.
At Kenilworth I obliviously went straight past the venue and ended up in town and I had no phone reception. That morning I had raked the invitation off the fridge (so I knew where to go) but then I had forgotten to actually pack it. So after driving around a bit looking for something that looked like a “wedding” I gave up and parked in the main street and went to the tourist information booth and said to the collection of old-timers there, “Um…Hi! I’m here for a wedding. You guys wouldn’t happen to know where that was?”
And they said, “At the Homestead?”
And I lied, “Yes, at, um, ‘the homestead.'” (My logic was at least I would be at A wedding, but perhaps not THE wedding — right?)
Luckily it was at the Homestead and I was safely there with plenty of time to get ready.
ASIDE “THE PACKAGE”
Backtracking a bit — on Thursday I was at YARN and got quite a bit loose. And I wasn’t feeling all the best on Friday morning when Dee rang me and said I needed to pick up a package from Jess’ work that was crucial for the wedding. Ok. I said. But then Dee was like, it’s on the 28th floor. And anyone that knows me, knows I get a bit sick in elevators — like motion sick. And so the prospect of travelling 28 floors up and down an elevator wasn’t very appealing in my hideous state. But I got through it — like the trooper I am. Yeah, I know – “cool story, not”. OK. Back to the wedding:
This very, very cute girl was practicing her ballet in front of the ceremony area and I was so excited about it I grabbed the official photographers and said, “Dude — this would be an amazing shot!” Yeah, in retrospect — I am “that guy” telling photographers their job. Ugh. Soz.
Jess looked stunning, and I thought the dress was fucking AMAZING! I liked the sleeves (I’m a big fan of sleeves) and the hair-down thing was inspired. Gingers have the best hair so just exploit that shit.
THE BIRD and the BLUBBERING
In the shot below you may notice a magpie at top right. It sat there just above the ceremony for ages which I thought was pretty poetic — until another magpie came along and attacked it and the two flew off.
Just before that Dee gave her speech and just bawled her eyes out 2 sentences in and I instinctively got a bit teary and it was lucky I was wearing sunglasses — just saying.
Jess Jardine — “JJ”. Dee and JJ are going to do a blog about “Not Being Bridesmaids” very soon! Can’t wait.
This is Zac. He has conjunctivitis so that is why he is looking so party’d out so early.
JJ and Andy (above) and Ben (left).
Awesome light approaching and also fading fast.
This is Paul (celebrant and Kill The Music dude) and KC’s daughter — Lucca
Trying to look “country”
When you are trying to be arty, ensure to keep a camera on a tripod in shot. That’s just how I roll.
For some reason I became in charge of THE bouquet. Naturally I decided to abuse my newfound responsibilities by photographing all the kids with it.
But then DISASTER! Lucca was not impressed.
“DO NOT WANT!”
So then the party retreated indoors for food and speeches etc. Dee and Jess Jardine delivered an AMAZING performance. I was so proud. Full of amazing gags and genuine performance.
The awesome Steve and his daughter! I wish I got a shot of Judy (mother of the bride) who is also such good value, and went above and beyond the call for the wedding. HAI GUYS!
After the speeches I introduced the kids to the antique tricycle. Which I got in trouble for later. But at least the kids had a fantastic time. My mum took a very similar photo of me carrying my sister on my trike back when I was 4.
Oh yeah — we actually need to sign stuff to that “getting married” shiz.
Hey Lloyd — I’m ready to be heartbroken. (And Jen on right). And here’s Jen an hour or two later:
After I got a bit too excited epic-dancing to “California” by Phantom Planet I decided to have a nap. Then JJ woke me up and I was ready to resume my duties which involved the FIRE! It’s no secret I love fire and I put my shorts on over my pyjamas (just for some semblance of dignity) and headed off. But then I managed to be a big, fat loser.
In the photo below you will see the pizza box there in the corner. And I was like, “Throw it on the fire.” But of course it was full of pizza warming up on top of the coals. So pizza went everywhere and everyone secretly went, “Ugh — who invited this guy to the party?” and the box didn’t even make that much impact on the fire.
I officially went to bed after that.
Or so I thought. Our room had 4 beds and I was on the top bunk and soon enough we had these massive chats sorting out everyone’s deepest darkest stuff and it was just like school camp all over again. (Except we weren’t allowed to have girls in our rooms back in those days).
Good, good times. I thoroughly enjoyed this weekend and was almost responsible with my boozing! Maybe. Just saying, unlike Dee, I was in a state of being perfectly capable of helping with the cleanup and packing!
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