Day 4 – The Wedding

 Today was all about the marriage of Jordan Priest, daughter of the infamous Kev & Maz, to Angus McAlpine of Eureka Stud, Cambooya, located about 20km outside Toowoomba. Although we had originally planned to avail ourselves of the thoughtfully provided buses that were made available to guests travelling from Toowoomba, last night we decided to chance our arm and drive there instead. As we were carrying the precious cargo of Gail, Maz’s sister and Aunt of the Bride, Gaz and I took a lovely country drive in the morning as a ‘reccy’ to make sure we didn’t get lost. There had been tales of GPS mayhem and inconsistencies between ‘Maps’ and ‘Google Maps’ so we were determined to leave nothing to chance.

In the end it was easy to find. I should say at this point that we had been there before, maybe twice even, but this was some years ago and, well, as I said, we were leaving nothing to chance! I can report, however, that Google Maps confidently stated “Arrived!” when we were a good couple of km short of the gate, but this did not phase us and we weren’t fooled by a system clearly designed for crows flying, not Nissan Qashqais battling down dirt roads. Anyway, we detoured via Cambooya township on the way back and that was a lovely drive.

At 2pm sharp Gail, Gaz and I set off for Eureka Horse Stud, arrived 30 minutes later, parked the car in an orderly line in a paddock recently slashed for the purpose, and settled on some haybales thoughtfully positioned for us oldies to witness the nuptials at 3pm. Everything was lovely. The Bride, Groom and all attendants, including flower girl and ring bearer cameos by Kev & Maz’s grandkids, all looked sensational. The rain had held off, the breeze, while a bit fresh, only mainly affected the Bride’s veil which did do a pretty good impression of a sail and I was worried there could be an incident a la The Flying Nun.

Drinks in the beautiful Eureka gardens followed the ceremony and we were able to catch up with the crowd from last night in a more conducive setting for conversation. General merriment was on offer via Moet and Coronas and the time slid by until it was time at 5:30pm to move into the sensationally decorated marquee set up nearby. Can I say at this point, that Jordan’s now sister-in-law, Angus’ brother’s wife, was the event planner and did a fantastic job. Every little thing had been thought out and covered beautifully. At our places we found lovely jars of homemade mint jelly, cooked by the Mother of the Groom, and, we learned later, stickered and labelled by the Aunt and Mother of the Bride.

I can’t share with you at this point too much in the way of photos as there is an embargo on social media posts until after the couple post. As I am not ‘friends’ with either the Bride or Groom, this may pose a small problem, but I feel confident that some scenery shots should be OK.

It was a fabulous event. The meal was fabulous, the wine and bubbles free flowing, the band lively and fun, but the show was stolen, in my humble opinion by Kev’s ‘Father of the Bride’ speech. Don’t get me wrong, Maz also made a speech which was excellent, heartfelt and brought a tear to the eye … but Kev’s speech, how can I even describe it? I should mention up front that the brief was to speak for 4 minutes each, and Maz kept to this timetable almost to the second. Kev, on the other hand was the nightmare that Jane, the event planner had been dreading in the lead up. Look, I didn’t time it, but I’m gonna say it went overtime … by about 26 minutes. I won’t try to replicate the speech itself; suffice it to say that it was themed as a Fairy Tale with a Princess, a King and Queen of the Southern Kingdom and a Prince of the Northern Kingdom. I went through multiple tissues wiping my eyes that streamed because of laughter, nay hilarity. It went over extremely well, and the guests all rose to their feet as one with a chant of “Kev! Kev! Kev!” as he took his seat. The poor Father of the Groom had to follow and managed to do admirably in the face of such a showstopper.

There was dancing, conversation, fun, tramping through calf high grass to access the loos, lots of alcohol and generally everything you would expect at a country wedding. I had a great time on the dance floor. Gaz did not join me there as, (now wait for it), his belt buckle broke, (the one purchased three days ago in Tamworth), and he was worried his pants would fall down if he danced. Now, that is definitely the most inventive of the many excuses he has come up with in 41 years of marriage, so I salute him for that. Apparently, he discarded the belt somewhere down in the paddock so I can only hope that it wasn’t mistaken for a snake sometime later in the night. An uneventful trip down the now very familiar backroads of Cambooya saw us home and in bed soon after midnight having thoroughly enjoyed the entire experience.