Day 8--Out of the Closet

The plans of mice and brides are soon scuttled by arachnids. Isn't that how the adage goes?

My chef d'jour was recently bitten by a spider ON his recent ankle incision. So much for being sure-footed. While he continues to procure the meat and spices, a new team of cooks has stepped up to the plate. Namely, the grill-meisters will be from my fiance's office: the captain and sargent of Region 4. How fortunate can a girl get?!

In other news...while I am in no way inferring that any of my family resemble spiders or their mythological attributes, I do find it a bit intriguing that 12 days before the wedding I am apprised of a family expectation: I must have an escort down the aisle.

For years now, I have always believed that I would not have an escort on my wedding day. On the practical side, my father has been gone for nearly 30 years, no grandfathers exist, and I am not close to any of uncles, many of whom have married off their own daughters. On the "wedding traditions through the ages" side, I am not a piece of property being exchanged between two men. I have spoken for and supported myself since I was 18.I didn't plan on changing that because I got an ivory dress.

What might surprise the dear reader is that in fact, this notice was given by women. I was surprised. It was these very women that gave me models of independence, exercising potential, and earning a living. So what is a bride to do?

On the one hand, it's my decision. I have the full support of my fiance, my pastor and many people who know me. I am who I am. On the other hand, it's a mere 60 seconds of my life in the middle of a ceremony. Is it worth ruffling feathers if it means something dear to someone else?

Readers,I await your response.