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.