Then there was the wedding

Friday, 4th November and my brother and his wife got married for the second time!!  ON A FRIDAY!!!  Silly sap kept telling me (turned out it was 'us') it was on a Saturday.  Makes no difference but I don't know how Mrs. M. puts up with him, he's hopeless with times/directions and, er, days.

Started the day with a nervous bride, told her most brides are nervous and it's not natural to NOT cry on your wedding day.  Think she believed me because she laughed and seemed calmer.

Had make up done, nails done (sigh, they're chipped now and it's brutal.  Had gotten used to pretty nails).  Thing is, with 'night time' make up it looks fairly full on in full sunshine.  Seeing as how we were in Brazil  . . . yeah, FULL sunshine.  When I got back to the house the lads kind've looked at me and I simply stated "I'll look fantastic once it's dark".  Yup!  I really said that.  I said I'd look better in the dark.  Big frickin' doh!!!!!!  Thing is, I did look much better as the light faded, it was night time dramatic make up and looked stunning.  I think.  

I gave the bro' away and the lovely mother of the bride gave her daughter away.  I'd been handed a handkerchief by the second-best man as I was tearing up but the mammy of the bride looked in more need (she had dramatic night time make up on too and that stuff doesn't take kindly to tears).  So I passed her the hankie behind the bride's bum.  But then 'I love NYE' was played and I started sniffing again (one of my favourite songs you see).  Damn.

Back down the aisle with the m-o-t-b (work it out) and we were followed by the second best man and one of the bridesmaids.  We were then handed rose petals by the wedding dictator and, well, I guess we'd all been intending to throw them gently over the heads of the happily married (again) couple but. . well, er, three out of eight of us fired the petals at them like snowballs.  Happy days.

Then there was drinking and eating and laughing and shots and a bit of dancing a bit of (sssh) smoking.  The bride and groom had their life laid out for them in a slide show but none of the sodding photos I spent hours working on were used.  Not enough time.  Arse.

More drinking and lots of lovely people to talk to and . . . yeah, it was a great wedding.  Thoroughly enjoyed myself, loved the people I met.  Not a very good matchmaker (I introduced Mr. R to a, gulp, 15 year old - she said she was SEVENTEEN!!).  Mr. R. did quite fine by himself BTW.  Poor minx left her shoes behind the next morning so she had to come back the following night for them.  Uh-hmm!!

Brazilian weddings are pretty much like Irish ones, only difference is, I think, you have a better chance of sunshine.

A long and happy life to the pair of them.

Mr. R., Second-best Man, Bro' and Mr. B.

 The Bro' and me.

 Mrs. M. and the lovely mammy of the bride.

 The wonderful Ring bearer and his gorgeous mammy.

 Sisters, everyone needs them.

 Happily married again

 The gorgeous Ms. G and her mental mother.

 Mr. B (a desperate snorer!!) and Ms. S.

 In retrospect Mr. R. . . she looks 15.

 AGAIN!!!!  Shots.

NOT AGAIN!!  PLEASE, NEVER AGAIN.