Although we have a bit of Irish in us, St. Patrick's Day isn't a holiday my family normally gets together to celebrate.
This year, however, it was.
You see, March 17 was my cousin Patrick's wedding day. It was a date he and his then-fiance Natalie decided on, despite any probability of a St. Patty's Day snowstorm.
Like any prospective couple planning to tie the knot in March in the U.P., they made arrangements accordingly and held everything indoors.
On the stage of the Calumet Theatre is where they said their vows.
And just as their "Exclusive Royal Yooper After Party," invite requested, "feasting," "imbibing," and "Tomfoolery" (a silly expression for music and dancing) followed in the upstairs ballroom.
I had to laugh when the mailman dropped off the invites. My mom, unfamiliar with the expression, confused Tomfoolery with a singer.
"Wait, you mean Dan Fogelberg?" she asked me.
I had instant flashbacks of a time we were in the fast food drive through and she managed to jumble the name of a meal deal with a store downtown.
"Yeah, I'd like one of your true value hardware meals," she said into the intercom.
I really need to start jotting these sorts of things down.
Getting back to that Saturday, I can say snow drifts and snowbanks were far from everyone's mind. Myself, I left the house in a pair of shorts and a tank top, heading into Houghton for our 11 a.m. hair appointments at Regis.
With the windows up tight and the air conditioning on, I headed back toward Calumet to meet the other bridesmaids and maid of honor. Cruising up Quincy Hill, there was Patrick rumbling down on his Harley Davidson in a T-shirt. His best man, Nick, was on a bike beside him.
After we put the finishing touches to our faces and slipped into our floor-length clover-colored dresses, we hopped back in the car and made our way to the theatre. The temperature gauge read a toasty 87 degrees.
It wasn't that long ago we were joking about snapping pictures with our dresses and winter boots.
When I think about it now, Sorels would have been more comfy compared to the 6-inch sparkly spikes I wore that day.
Just to be on the safe side, I gave my heels a test run during rehearsal the Friday before. Walking alongside my Uncle Danny, I made sure he knew I may need back-up. And if I did, I told him it had to look graceful.
"You've got my back right?" I teased.
With Slave to Gravity performing into the night, it's a good thing Natalie set us up with matching jeweled flip flops. Of course all the shoes - and gloves - came off in time for the bouquet toss, which I nabbed.
All in all, everything came together smoothly, from the decorations, which everyone pitched in to help with, and the un-decorating.
I'd say my cousin Patrick couldn't have picked a more special girl, who couldn't have picked a better weekend to celebrate such a special day.
Kelly Fosness can be reached at kfosness@ mininggazette.com.