Today is our wedding anniversary. Our tenth. Apparently the traditional gift is aluminum/tin. So perhaps my husband and I will buy each other a can of Coke.
We’re not into gifts. We didn’t buy each other wedding gifts; we don’t buy each other anniversary presents. Last weekend, though, we went out for dinner without kids. And we had plenty to talk about. This is, perhaps, the best of gifts.
We don’t like ceremony.
Our symbols are in a drawer
Photo courtesy of Baldur (cc) Flickr
I insisted on not having an engagement ring. I don’t like the ownership implications and I despise wearing rings (neither of us wears our wedding bands). When I searched for a wedding dress, my foremost instruction to the bridal people was that the dress “fall flat on the ground when I drop it.” Don’t ask.
And I love not standing on ceremony. Our wedding was fun. It was one big farm party under a big white tent with kids and adults and a jumpy castle.
I tossed my bouquet from our combine.
We had eleven varieties of mosquito repellent. We had identical twin pastors doing the hula hoop. We had cousins Ukranian dancing. We had aunts and uncles fox-trotting. We had giveaways from our round-the-world travels. We had the small town liquor store on after-hours-stand-by. We had RVs. We had outhouses. We had people celebrating when the sun came up.
When a cracker of a thunder storm dumped monsoon-style rain on us, my dad said, “Don’t worry. We’re all staying. We have enough tractors to pull every car out when the party’s over.”
And, the party ain’t over yet.
Leanne Shirtliffe is the mother of seven-year-old twins, Thing 1 and Thing 2. She lived in Asia for eight years, which turned out to be a build-your-own-family adventure. Leanne writes for Nickelodeon and pens a humour column for The Calgary Herald. She is represented by Jill Marr of the Sandra Dijkstra Literary Agency in California. 
Oh I love your wedding! My husband’s grandparents anniversary is today too, they’ve been married 66 years (its a good time for marriages I think). Our anniversary is tomorrow (5 years). Happy day to you!
Happy Anniversary to you! Sounds like an awesome wedding. We gave bug repellant out as our gift to the guests at our wedding. Nothing says love and thanks like prevention of nasty, itchy welts, I say. Enjoy the day and the good memories.
Also, identical twin pastors? That could be a movie.
That sounds like a great wedding! Happy anniversary!
That is so lovely! You sounds so right for each other.
So, I’m trying to plan a wedding. I’m not into this pomp and ceremony stuff either. I probably wouldn’t get married except that I really like this guy and well, there is that bit about my Catholic family nagging about our out of wedlock child.
But anyway, I suggested to my Mother in Law taht we have cookie cake and she about died. I mean, why not? I thought everyone loved cookie cake…
I think a cookie cake sounds perfect. I just had a no-tiered carrot cake. We nearly forgot about it. Cutting-the-cake pictures generally look ridiculous, anyways.
See, I want to be the type who doesn’t care about gifts and didn’t want an engagement ring. People would suspect it of me. But I love diamonds. (I know, so Madonna.) Who said “A thing of beauty is a joy forever”? Gerard Manley Hopkins, I think. And I agree, and so I like diamonds. I’m actually less interested in gifts now that kids are in the picture. I’m content with a nice bottle of wine or a dinner out. (And I’m really happy that I’m content with that.)
Glad I found your blog, Ironic Mom!
Wow, very impressed with GMH quote. I like diamonds, too, but if you had fingers like me, you’d forgo the rings. Thankfully, I’m Canadian, which means I can walk around in mittens for half of the year. Thanks for stopping by!
You see that sounds exactly like the sort of wedding I would love to attend, just about perfect, surrounded by the people that matter and doing it your way. Happy belated anniversary!
Pingback: The Challenge of Raising Strong Girls | Ironic Mom
Pingback: I Am the DH: Being Married to Ironic Mom (Part I) | Leanne Shirtliffe ~ Ironic Mom