Early
Sunday evening, and I would love to lay down and take a nap; but it is too late
for that. I got back to the house about 3.30 pm—which would
have been an excellent time to have a kip.
Especially since “The Maverick” is working this evening. Instead, I check my e-mail, played card games
on my computer and checked the TV guide listing for tonight.
Inside my mind waged this little battle of
laziness verses determination to write a blog post. Hmmmm…to give into my sleepiness and satisfy
my lethargy, or live with the guilt and disappointment from a lack of disciple
and nothing to show for my afternoon?
Which option do I prefer.
The “I
shall persevere” won.
Today
is Sunday, 26th January.
Eleven years and eight days ago
The Maverick and I exchanged wedding vows at Indianapolis Christian Fellowship
on a snowy Saturday afternoon. The
morning started out bitterly cold, clear skies and sharp, biting wind. Carrying a cup of coffee and a breakfast
sandwich from McDonalds, I trudged through the re-frozen snow of the church
parking lot to the building. I was the
first one there—arriving about 9.30 am.
By 2.30
pm that afternoon, the temperature had dropped a bit, the winds had brought
grey, snow-laden clouds. I stood at the
back of the church, next to the coat racks, listening to the Twila Paris song, “He
is Exalted” playing over the loud speaker, and watched my bridesmaids proceed
into the sanctuary.
The
back doors closed, and I walked to my place, on the arm of my friend’s
arm. The music swelled and the doors
opened. I looked at “The Maverick” and “Major
Will” (who was officiating the ceremony.)
“Major Will” had and ear-to-ear grin on his face. “The Maverick” had dropped his jaw, and I
could see his eyes fill with tears of joy.
During
the ceremony there were moments of quiet reflection, moments of laughter and
moments of rejoicing music. I don’t
remember all the finer points throughout, but I do know that at the end of the
ceremony we were husband and wife.
Last
Saturday, 18th January, “The Maverick” asked me if I wanted to
invite anyone to join us for a meal out—to celebrate our special day. We asked “Ms. Celia” to join us. “Ms. Celia” was kind and provided a lift to
the restaurant to which we went—Le Bettola--http://www.labettola.com/
I
worked at Worldspan Inc. in Hayes, Middlesex from 2004 to 2007. I commuted to Hayes on the 81 bus daily,
which drives by Le Bettola every day. “The
Maverick” rides his bike past the restaurant on his way to work at the airport.
We wanted to find someplace other than the regular eating places we have
eaten at before. This was a celebratory
meal. When he asked me if I wanted to go
there, I was delighted. I’d wanted to
eat there for years.
Only
one other family was in the restaurant when we walked in, which seemed curious;
that is until I realised it was early, only about 6.30 pm. The 7.30 pm, the place was busy.
Le Bettola
is a traditional family-run establishment, with bed and breakfast rooms
available upstairs. The atmosphere is
an interesting balance of rustic yet contemporary. The back part of the restaurant is a banquet
room that can be reserved. But for this
evening, it was open. It is actually a
conservatory with a grape vine growing along the ceiling rafters. In the summer the vines actually have grapes
which are used for a house wine.
Seeing
as how I am tea-total, I ordered lemon aid.
“The Maverick” and “Ms. Celia” shared a bottle of house wine. The drinks came with bread, butter and a dish
of olives with chilli. Although I
usually don’t like olives, for the sake of the evening, I ate two—which were
flavoured with garlic as well as chillies.
The bread was warm, the crust crunchy.
