This weekend we celebrated Marc’s parents’ fortieth wedding anniversary. We in this case was Marc, his sisters, me, and about nine thousand other cousins, aunts, uncles and various other hangers on. And as this is France, the celebration centered around a meal—a six hour long meal, and that’s not counting the apéro beforehand, because nibbles and champagne hardly count as food, right?
I won’t bore you with the details of how wonderful my children were, or with who said and did what, or even with what we ate because I’m honestly too tired (and a bit stuffed, even 24 hours after the fact) to feel up to the task. All I will say is I’m glad Marc’s cousin has hooked up with a professional photographer. Why? Look below.
Teaching her the right way to drink, early on. This is the mutual admiration society. The king is served. Later, feeling crappy.
(He spent the rest of the weekend feeling very poorly, poor critter.) Seven months, the third time around.
Really sweet photos-some memories saved. I haven't been to a 6 hour dinner yet, just 3 hour which is plenty long enough.