The SPICE of LOVE

Our niece and her groom had some unusual, but delightful guests at their wedding last week.

A baker and his wife.

Two alley cats.

A couple of Red Sox players.

Two Cardinals.

A couple of heifers.

Mr. and Mrs. Pug.

Two pig skins.

Granny Smith and the Apple of her Eye.

Mr. and Mrs. Sundae

Two peas in a pod.

And others.  They all came in pairs.  It was like Noah's Ark.   

Every table at the reception hosted one of these special couples.   When it was announced that someone at each table would be gifted with a ceramic pair, people began to scheme and trade.

My brother-in-law stuffed Mr. and Mrs. Helmet Terp in his jacket pockets as soon as he spotted another guest eying the two.

One guy offered me money for Ms. Bossie and her bottle.  

I tucked them in my bra to keep them close to me.  

Things got rather ugly.  Before we left, a fracas broke out over the Red Sox players.  Tragically, Mr. and Mrs. Pug were injured in the fray and had to be disposed of.    Very sad.

Ok, I'm exaggerating a bit.  But not much.  Next to the bride and groom, these couples were the most sought after.

These creative shakers had meaning because our niece is a Baker, and she married a Saltmarsh.   Cooking and baking and seasoning and spices.  And everything nice-s.  Very poetic.

I hope Granny Smith got home OK.