It was a fine fall day, downright balmy you might say,
when H and T and I set off for Silverwood.
While Auntie Ireney was out of town,
H had taken a rare Saturday off
Seizing the chance to amble out to
Tasha’s favorite oasis in the city. . .
. . . little did we know. . .
. . . we might willfully wander into. . .
. . . some shifty-eyed park patrons. . .
. . . but. . .
. . . also some celebratory activities and such. . .
. . . Historically, this was Wedding Crash #1 for H and T,
but, gloriously, it was already Numero Deux for moi – Salut !
And hopefully this time my practice camera settings
would shed a little more light on the situation. .
Before the ceremony, H bumped into
a literary hybrid of Oscar Wilde and Fabio,
otherwise known as Mister High-Water Pants . . .
In any case, according to H,
Oscar-Fabio was rude to the cafe’s waitstaff,
and his insufferable haughty demeanor
offended the scrupulously well-mannered H. . .
One of the principal photographers
attired in autumnal camo. . .
While the Lifetime moment unfolded before us,
T was distracted by every living thing
that walked or talked, barked or yapped,
buzzed or tooted, shifted or shimmied,
dazzled or twinkled. . .
The relieved, ecstatic couple in a private moment . . .
Well, maybe not so private
The couple gives praise and nominal thanks to Zoom Lens inventor
While our young man appears a bit hesitant to press the flesh with Mr. Fabio,
we did notice Mr. F wisely decided to untether his previously trussed-up trousers
Guest apparel varied. . .
Between H’s khakis, my army fatigues,
and, of course, T’s appearance in her skivvies
we were definitely what some might call “under-dressed” . . .
While T exhibited relatively proper decorum
during the ceremonial festivities . . . .
such was not necessarily the case
as we were leaving the park. . .
In a nutshell, T scared the bejeebus out of little Hannah,
by racing up to her as though she was going to attack
Stay tuned for the dramatic conclusion!