The Par-tay

Where were we?

 Ah yes. We were in a bridal chariot . . .

. . . On the way to the beach . . .

. . . with the lovelies . . .

. . . and the loveliness.

We are *so* lucky to have this goofball . . .

. . . and this goofball, too. Happy Birthday, Jelly Roll!

It was the most beautiful day of the year; it has not been as nice since. It was a perfectly miraculous gem of a day.

After a wedding on the beach, though? You've got to pack it on up and haul it all away . . . .

. . . and bring it on down to the Captain Scott's.

Cheer up, Jess.

The best wedding-wine-keeper in all the land . . .

And then?

Lobstah Rolls . . .

. . . and fries . . .

. . . and a million other gorgeous things to eat, all courtesy of Howie and Marcie . . .

I went up the window to help bring it all on back to the tables. When questioned, I said to the girl, "I'm Howie" and I meant it.

Later there were cups of cake . . .

And glorious flowers . . .

And lovely friends . . .

And this kid . . .

. . . and all these kids . . .

. . . and all the everybodies.

It was one for the ages, and Howie and Marcie were the King and Queen of the Festivities . . .

. . . well, as was our girl . . .

. . . well, as were our girls.