Even though we all moved through time together, toward the summer solstice and all that was planned for that day, it is impossible to tell this story in a linear fashion. It had a beginning and it did come to an end but the parts in between were an unpredictable journey, and the pace was erratic but unceasing. For those who know the masterminds behind the co-loveration festivities, this comes as no surprise. The rest of us just got on board and kept our knees bent as we followed the currents and spun around in the eddies.
I actually don't know the whole story because it was impossible to be in every place but everyone was having a similar experience. We all knew the end goal -- to have an event that would engage everyone, would allow everyone to feel that they had contributed, and that we would end up feeling like we had been present at a gathering that could be described as a wedding. We were making memories together for days and days.
Stephen and Julia, individually and also together, had a lot of ideas about what might be worth building or creating or doing. In the end, Stephen said they managed to accomplish about 10% of what he was imagining.
They chose the longest day of the year for spiritual reasons and practical ones too. There was a lot to fit in. And the days leading up to the solstice were also long days, which helped to make things possible. In addition, all the resources of the farm were much more available on the weekdays than they would have been on a weekend day. I admit, I encouraged them to choose that day. It was inconvenient for people with regular jobs but it was good for the rest of us.
They invited friends from around the world to join them for a few weeks of co-loveration and preparation. This meant that there was a group of millenials living and working and eating and talking and singing together for many days. Things naturally got untidy, systems were created to make the camp function smoothly. There were leaders who made charts and organized the meals and activities. People slept in the rustic spaces that were available. There was lots of cooking and cleaning. They had anticipated many of the issues and had assembled an outdoor kitchen. It rained more than normal so there was a lot more puddle and waterfall excitement than they were expecting.
And every day there was work to be done on the various projects. There was the dome that would be built out of long pieces of bamboo. The dome was ambitious in every way -- it needed to encircle the 200 people attending the ceremony. It needed to be erected and stay up. It needed to create a sense of sacred space. Stephen's two uncles (one Newcomb, one Snyder) with engineering skills spent long hours making the joints that would hold together all the poles that had unique diameters. They brought materials with them from Denver. Stephen's best friend from college spent hours with the groom, cutting and measuring the bamboo (that was growing along the Middleton border of the Vienna stand parking lot, planted in 2000). There were late nights as they assembled the dome in the clearing, and one night there was a mutiny after midnight when people just needed to go to bed.
The dance floor needed to be designed and built. Stephen's father and his side of the family spent a long weekend creating a dance floor that will be used again and again, and stored in a neat stack in the meantime.
The wedding clothes for the bride and groom were designed and sewn by his talented aunt who worked through the night on her creations. Because designs are fluid and the couple had lots of opinions, in the end, the groom's pants were never finished and he wore a sarong on his bottom half. But the bride's outfit was beautiful and complete. She looked like a stunning version of something from Aladdin. So did he.
The headdresses were designed and constructed by our neighbors who grow flowers. The crowns were wild and so lyrical, with purple grasses and spent sunflower heads and flowers and grapevines.
Because they have so many friends with so many talents, the possibilities were well beyond most people's imaginations. Two friends came down from New England to teach about and perform the task of killing four lambs (who were raised by a friend of ours), in a respectful and calm and not scary way. They led a workshop on tanning the hides and butchering the lambs.
Another friend left his farm to come and roast those lambs, building a structure for the fire and watching over the cooking for a long, hot day. He also cooked a few vegetarian dishes on the side.
Stephen's mother took responsibility for assembling all the normal infrastructure that is needed at a wedding: chairs, tables, dishes, tent, pitchers, linens, the works. She and her husband also cooked the rehearsal dinner meal which was supposed to be for 70 guests but ended up feeding 100.
Our household took the task of making all the dishes that would complement the roasted lamb at the wedding dinner -- Julia asked for Middle Eastern salads and got some recipes from a hip young chef they have befriended. I organized a vegetable chopping party in the Common House and we diced and sliced pounds and pounds of beets and kohlrabi and cucumbers and cantaloupe.. Jon made hundreds of pieces of falafel. Even he was impressed at how unstressful it was to cook for 200 people when you have a chopping party with 10 happy people.
Alissa baked pies and cakes for the dinners and lunches, using fruit from our freezers and blueberries from the bushes.
The wedding cake was made with organic whole wheat flour grown by Heinz and it was baked by one of Julia's talented friends. Five tiers, frosting was almost purple, they did the traditional last-minute construction in the cooler and carried the 60 pound cake to the table before it melted.
Jim's family had the job of setting up all the tables and making everything look nice under the tent. We hired six cheerful and hard-working PVF employees to keep the dishes moving -- there were lots of dishes to wash late into the night, two nights in a row.
One of Julia's friends took the job of sound man incredibly seriously and researched and purchased all the sound equipment, installed it and managed it. The next day, in the pouring rain, he was out in his full rain suit rolling up all the wires and repacking everything into boxes while everyone else was having brunch.
Miraculously, when it was time to have the rehearsal dinner, everyone was ready. We actually had a rehearsal so that the participants would know where to stand and what to expect. The rehearsal was conducted by another one of Julia's incredibly talented friends -- she knew how to manage everyone with grace and a big voice. It rained hard just as we were assembling under the huge tent, so we had to pause to see whether the lightning was going to move on past.
The best part of the dinner, other than just being together, was the "offerings" after the meal. Some people had been asked to prepare a song or a speech. One of Julia's dear friends from forever had written a song about learning that Julia had met her soulmate, and how she learned about Stephen through Julia's stories, It was a song that we could all listen to again and again if we ever get the chance. So sweet and so well told. The chorus was, "he braided my hair...he took a bunch from here, a bunch from there, and another bunch from over there." It is impossible to describe how our hearts melted.
I didn't attend all the festivities on the solstice but they had a dawn service at 5:45, a special meal, yoga, activities that would add to the decorations of the ceremony space, a big lunch in two locations. Everything went beautifully.
While they were doing that, our family was finishing up putting the dinner together. I drove into DC to pick up the fancy hummus and tahini and sauces from the basement production area that the hip chef uses. Jon and Becca made dressings and put the salads together. Alissa made pies in sheet pans. Becca came with me to the restaurant to buy the Persian rice -- even that was an adventure -- and together we decided that we needed to buy 50% more than we had originally ordered. It is so hard to tell how much food you really need, and we all have a fear of running out.
At 4:48, about 12 minutes before people were supposed to assemble and sit quietly, Benjamin and his crew were still putting the finishing touches on the pulley system in the dome. At that same moment, Charles and I were taking the top off the septic tank to figure out why the toilet in the barn was clogged. There were two bakers huddled in the cooler working on frosting the cake.
But at 5:30 we were all in our seats, dressed in clean clothes, listening to the three musicians who were making quiet music with a saw, some spinning hoses and I don't know what else. There were benches for everyone (constructed out of materials on the farm), there were fanciful bird sculptures hanging overhead, and a complicated array of bamboo rings and bouquets dangled from fishing line stretched above. We were mesmerized.
In the end, the ceremony was not nearly as wild and impenetrable as we had been allowed to imagine. There were songs and poems. I had been invited to make a case for marriage to start off the proceedings, and I had found time to write it out at dawn that day, and so I made the case. Even though it was never discussed, I did say a Shechechyanu at the end of my remarks. It seemed entirely appropriate, especially as we seemed to be cherry picking from any number of traditions.
Julia and Stephen spoke about why they had decided to marry each other and about their fears that they would lose that feeling of surprise and unfamiliarity. They greeted each other's families with long and loving messages. They gave each other bamboo rings to link together and hang from the structure and eventually there was a completely magical moment when the 200 rings with little flower bouquets were lowered at once and we each took a ring and linked it to another, demonstrating our connection and our commitment to that grand connection.
The meal was fabulous. The lamb was incredible. The salads were colorful and unusual and delicious. There was twice as much food as we needed, even though once again there were about 40 more people than expected. Some of us sat on picnic blankets and visited while we ate. One guest said she felt so relaxed, not having place cards and needing to make conversation with people she didn't know. But everyone knew someone, it was a huge reunion of families and farm workers and lifelong friends, with lots and lots of toddlers and babies being handed around.
As it got dark and the fireflies exploded in the fields surrounding us, the Denver uncles introduced one more event -- lighting candles and heating up small biodegradable hot air balloons (about the size of a trash bag), and sending them aloft. It was one more unexpected moment of magic, watching 120 glowing lanterns carrying wishes float into the sky.
More speeches, cake, There was dancing into the night.
And the next day it rained from the beginning to the end of the day. Somehow, the weather gods knew that it would be best to take a break from raining for just one day, the longest day of the year.
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