My brother David is getting (re-)married today in Fortaleza, Brazil. He and his wife planned this as a beach wedding, although the weather right now isn't looking that auspicious: where they are, it's spring, and 85 degrees Fahrenheit, with a 40% chance of rain-- the sub-equatorial equivalent of May showers before the arrival of summer. I'm hoping the wedding will pass unmolested under the noses of les dieux ouraniens. David's promised me pictures, which I'll proudly slap up on the blog as any big bro would.
So why am I not down in Brazil? you ask. Because (1) I was the sole witness at David and Patricia's tiny riverside park wedding in March, which was performed with a "celebrant"-- a generic public official whose big book of sacred texts included wisdom from many of the world's cultures (she cited some Native American wisdom during the ceremony)-- so I didn't feel a pressing need to witness a second wedding; and (2) as you've guessed from all my budgetary bellyaching on this blog, I couldn't afford to go way, way south of the border-- not on my puny budget. Since David and Patricia are planning a third ceremony here in the States next year (madness!), I'll be attending that.
In the meantime, I wish my brother and his blushing bride the best as they publicly affirm their life-commitment before a loving community of friends and relatives, and before Mother Nature and all the divinities. May their marriage be a green and ever-growing thing, may they tend it well, and may it always bear succulent fruit.