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So Jeremy and I got married on Thursday. (This is the Marriage is Serious Business picture.) We tried to keep it as low-key as possible, because a) we’re not big ceremony people, and b) I’m not really in the greatest of health presently, so it was in our best interest to keep it simple.

I think I overdid it a little.

It started with getting my hair done.

I went with a little back combing, because, hey, I was doing a bit of 60s inspired sort of thing. The last thing I needed was hairpins. At my sister’s wedding I had about 500 in my hair, and my over-riding memory of the experience was how much my head hurt.

Then we went into Toronto to meet Jeremy’s mother and stepfather for lunch. On the way in on the train, I noticed that my ankles and wrists were swollen. That’s a symptom of hypothyroidism, but not one I’d noticed before; but then, I hadn’t put tights on, and I hadn’t really thought much about my wrists. They were aching slightly. We went to our favourite brew pub on Front street and I had a cask pint. After that I didn’t have a care in the world. I walked about three or four blocks in my beautiful green fluevogs; I felt great!

After lunch we did a brief stopover at St. Lawrence market to pick up a few items for dinner, which was to be made by Jeremy’s stepfather, who happens to be a professional chef. He picked up: foie gras, demi-glace, and mushrooms. After a quick costume change at the hotel, we met my family at city hall.

The whole clan was there. Jason and Yuka were our witnesses; they really feel that a woman should witness for a woman, though I felt that Yuka should have witnessed for Jeremy (pandas need to stick together) and Jason for me. But tradition won out, awkwardly.

The ceremony itself was short, pretty, and sincere. I was anxious, about me, about Jeremy, about…I don’t know what. It was a kindly fellow who did the job was very supportive and made it painless and stress-free. Max acted as ring-bearer. He did a stellar job.

Little Leo had been diagnosed with pneumonia the day before, but had gotten a puffer to help him breathe and finally got a good night’s sleep at night. So was a pleasant little trooper, and I even got a smile out of him afterwards.

After the ceremony we went to Jason’s and Jeremy’s stepfather (with help from Yuka and Jason) made us a fantastic dinner. We just lounged and chatted and ate, his folks, my folks, us, Jason and Yuka. Low-key.

We were home before 9:30pm. My shoes are divinely comfortable, but I think I pushed it a little too hard too fast; my knees and hips were aching and felt horribly weak. Jeremy told me I looked like I’d been punched in the face, that my eyes looked all sunken and blackened. I said it was probably just my makeup finally smudging off; I tried to wash it off, and then he took a washcloth to my face and tried too.

“I think you’re just tired,” he said.

When we set this date, we were both pretty sure I’d be chipper and mended and full of vim and vigour by now. The wedding was never meant to be a defining moment in our lives, not, say, the day of reckoning, the princess moment, but I had hoped to be a bit more up for it than I actually was. The blessing in it, really, is that for the moment part, the wallop of the consequences mostly hit me after the fact. Rest and relaxation is in order now.

We had a genuine time.