Daisy in the Fringe

Dear Diary,

Well, I’m home now.

Riding into town was awful strange.  After the places we been, everything seemed a little smaller and a lot closer together than I remembered.  And our house looked awfully run down – it needs a coat of paint bad, and the garden could use a whole bunch of weeding.  I can see there’s a lot to do to make things look nice before the wedding.

Momma looked real good at first – she was up and out of bed with good color in her cheeks and everything.  But the excitement of seeing us again must have been tough on her nerves, because it weren’t long after she saw us that she started putting her hand to her head and having one of her spells.

That didn’t keep her from fighting with Dusty, though.  I sure do wish them two could get along.  They both have such good hearts, but you’d never think it to hear them having at each other.  I weren’t even sure what-all they was arguing about, cept it seems that Momma is having trouble making ends meet again.

Poor Momma sure do have her troubles.  There must have been some big bills that she didn’t expect, because she ran right through the money I left behind and had to sell Dusty’s and my stuff.  We don’t have anything here except what we brought with us – no dresses or toys or nothing.  Momma had to sell them all just to eat.  That makes me awfully sad – I was looking forward to seeing what Geoffry would think of my spring fest dress – but I reckon if I had managed to leave Momma enough to get by on, she wouldn’t have had to do it.  I guess I gotta feel sorry for her – I can’t imagine what it must feel like, having to sell your daughters’ stuff.  I don’t think I could ever bring myself to do something like that – it must make Momma feel awfully low, being brought to that.

Momma’s so funny sometimes, it sure can get a bit embarrassing.  I mean, I introduced her to Geoffry and her first question was whether I was pregnant!  Then she said she understood that I’d do what I could to catch a doctor – she came out with that right in front of Geoffry and Doc and Hank and everyone, and didn’t even use hand talk to say it neither!  Oh well, she just wants the best for me, so I reckon that I can survive the blushes I’m gonna get around her.  I do hope she don’t say anything like that when she meets his folks, though.

But I really am worried about Dusty.  Her ears are getting awfully red, like they do when she’s upset at things.  She just went off to get Momma some rosewater though, so she can’t be too angry.  I’m gonna go see if I can help her now – she’s been gone a while and must have forgot where Momma keeps the glasses or something.

Dear Diary,

It’s early morning now and I’m on watch.  I like this time of day.  The sky’s brightening but the sun’s not up yet, and Dusty and me are the only ones awake.  There’s enough light that keeping watch ain’t hard – we can see everything for miles around, and ain’t nothing going to sneak up on us.  The only sound coming from anyone is a snore – even Hank ain’t talking.

Dusty and me had a nice talk last night.  We was recollecting all the things we miss at home, and talking about how much fun it will be to see our friends.  Dusty’s got Sophie, of course, who she’d always run off and get in trouble with, and Slim and Silas and the other fellers who hang around the Bronc – she always liked going down there with Daddy when he was out drinking, and I guess she never did get out of the habit after he passed.

As for me, I’m looking forward to seeing Laurie and finding out if she and Aunt Eller found any decent hands to help around their spread.  And I can’t wait to find out who Annie is dating now – she’s gone out with half the fellers in Hawkinsville.  That girl just can’t never say no!  I miss them two – they was just about my best friends back home.

Course, there was plenty of girls I didn’t care about much.  That Cummins girl was always so snooty, her with that horsey laugh.  And Augustina Hawkins thinks she owns everybody just because her daddy owns everything – she was really mean when I was working for her momma.  They always used to make fun of how I couldn’t talk.  I wonder what them girls will think to see me with such a good catch as my Geoffry – a doctor and a healer and a cool hand with a shotgun too!

But most of all, I’m looking forward to seeing Momma.  It sure will be nice to be with her again.  I do hope she likes my Geoffry, but really, I ain’t too worried on that front.  I mean, what’s not to like?

Dear Diary,

There ain’t much to say about Menelaida.  Same town, same shops – Dusty and me took Dorothy out shopping for clothes so she’d have more than just the dress she was in when we met her.  Then we picked up the horses and hit the trail.

When we was out about a day, we came across a couple of fellers bushwhacked on the trail.  It was an ugly scene – two dead men, two dead horses.  Only a vulture could be happy about that, and plenty was.

For some reason, Hank and Dutch decided we was gonna try to track the bushwhackers.  That didn’t make no sense to me – it ain’t like we’re lawmen or nothing, and out here on the Fringe nobody’s gonna start crying for justice over another couple of dead bodies.  But maybe that’s just the last two months on the trail speaking.  I seen so much – murdered villages, crazy thugs who’d rather kill themselves than get caught, soldiers who’ll drop everyone in sight if there’s so much as a hint of a problem – that maybe death is losing all meaning.  I’m gonna have to think on that: I don’t want to end up with a hard shell.  Next thing you know I’ll be like Hank: he’s a sweet feller, once you get past all the things he says, but he’d just as soon kill a stranger as soon as look at him, and that ain’t the kind of person I want to become.

We did run into some other fellers at one point, ranchers out looking for lost pigs.  There was a tense moment when I was afraid it was gonna come down to killing, but we all just rode on our own ways, which was just as well.

(Afterwards, Dusty said she had peeked into them fellers heads and that they was happier than me that it didn’t come to shooting.  I guess that’s not much surprise: we had them on numbers and we do travel with a fancy collection of shooting irons on display.  If I was riding the range and met up with us, I know I’d be happy to get away alive!)

After that, we decided to give up on tracking the bushwhackers.  We’re heading for Hawkinsville now – should get there tomorrow.  Tonight’s gonna be my last night sleeping in a tent for a while.  It sure will be nice being back in my own room.  There’s so much stuff there that I miss – just waking up in the morning and having a hard time deciding what to wear from my closet is gonna be a real treat.  For the last two months, I’ve been lucky if I had two outfits to choose from.  And I weren’t lucky all that often!

Dear Diary,

Domina Moratus has a little more to say, all about proper invitations and thank you notes and the kinds of flowers you should have and all.  But I reckon I don’t need to copy all that out – it’s enough to know I have it at hand when I need it.

I been putting together a list from all the things she said, though.  There’s a lot to remember about the wedding, and I reckon I need to have it all in one place.  Here’s what I got:

• Betrothal
  • Dinner with families and close friends.
  • Uncle Bill announces dowry.
  • Geoffry and Uncle Bill shake hands.
  • Geoffry and me exchange gifts
  • Geoffry and me hold hands and kiss.
• Bridal shower
  • Held by my friends.
  • Fun party with friends and family members.
  • Women only!
• Bachelors’ party
  • I don’t want to know nothing about that!
• Prenuptial feast
  • Hosted by my family.
  • Lots of stories by our folks of when we was kids.
• Sacrifices to Artemis
  • I sacrifice childhood toys and stuff to thank Artemis.
• Wedding morning
  • Augur reads auspices.
  • My ceremonial bath, with attendants bringing water in special pitchers.
  • I make sacrifices to Aphrodite.
  • I get dressed in wedding dress and veil with hair done up special.
• Wedding
  • Geoffry arrives with his family and friends and demands entrance.
  • Uncle Bill lets Geoffry in and goes and fetches me.
  • Uncle Bill brings me to Geoffry and gives him my arm.
  • Priest speaks.
  • Vows is exchanged.
  • Wedding contract is signed by pretty near everyone.
  • Geoffry removes my veil.
  • Geoffry and me sacrifice pig to Isis and Serapis.
• Wedding dinner.
  • Hosted by Geoffry.
  • Guests can sign wedding contract as witnesses during dinner.
  • Toasts made by Hank and Dusty.
  • Sesame cakes served.
• Procession.
  • Geoffry drags me away from Momma.
  • I’m led by three boys, two hold my hands, one carries a torch.
  • Crowd shouts “Talassio, Talassio,” calls out dirty jokes and songs, and throws walnuts at me and Geoffry.
  • Dusty carries spindle and distaff.
• At Geoffry’s house
  • I wraps doorposts with wool and smears oil and fat on the door.
  • I’m carried over the threshold.
  • Model of marriage bed is in the atrium.
  • Momma and Uncle Bill go home.
  • I touch fire and water.
  • I light the hearth with the wedding torch.
  • I pray to Isis and Aphrodite.
  • Dusty leads me to the bridal chamber while I’m carrying an apple.  She helps me get dressed for bed.
  • Dusty makes a sacrifice and fetches Geoffry.
  • Hank brings in Geoffry.
  • Hank and Dusty leave and join the party in the other room.
  • Geoffry unties the Knot of Hercules from around my waist.
  • Geoffry does it to me while guests party.
• Next day
  • Geoffry’s folks hold a dinner.
  • Everybody brings us presents.
  • Big entertainments, with dancing, fighting, and whatever else is going on.  (I reckon this is when Dusty and Hank will fight.)

Wow, that’s a pretty big list.  There’s a lot to get through for a wedding.  I hope it all goes well!

Dear Diary,

That was a whole lot of worry for a little bit of nothing.

We got to Geoffry’s house after a nice walk.  I liked his neighborhood – there’s a pretty little park nearby  and a bunch of nice houses made of brick all scrunched up next to each other.  It sure would be fun growing up in a place like that – you’d never run out of people to play with.  Why, there’s more families right on Geoffry’s block than live in all of Hawkinsville.

Geoffry told me what it was like living in the city: riding the swings in that park, getting strawberry ice at the little shop on the corner, playing gladiators with all his buddies in the empty lot down the way.  I could just about see what it would be like, growing up in a city, and I wondered whether I’d want to raise our kids like that.

As we kept getting closer to his house, my heart started beating harder and harder.  The thought of meeting his momma was making me awfully nervous.  Finally, when we turned a corner and he said we was on his block, I started getting a bit of tunnel vision I was so worried.

We came up to a big red brick row house with a little iron gate in front.  We went up to the front door and knocked.  After a couple minutes, a friendly looking fat lady wearing a little gray cap came to the door.  She gave a big smile when she saw Geoffry and said, “Master Geoffry!  What a pleasure to see you!  But I’m afraid your parents are away – your father had a conference at Nuovo Alexandria and he and your mother may not be back for days.”

That was a disappointment, but a bit of a relief too.  We went inside anyway and Geoffry showed me around a bit.  It was a nice house, and there was pictures of family all over.  I saw bunches of pictures of Geoffry (he sure was cute when he was a little kid), and pictures of two others that he said was his older brother and his little sister.  They was fine looking people and fairly serious when they wasn’t horsing around (which they was doing in some of them pictures).

Seeing that house made me feel a little nervous, though.  Geoffry’s family sure is rich – they even got indoor plumbing, and Geoffry had his own bedroom growing up and everything.  They even got electric lights, and an icebox that don’t even need real ice to keep cool.  Even the Hawkins house back home ain’t got all that stuff.  I can’t imagine why a family that rich would ever let their son marry me!

After Geoffry had the servant bring us drinks (imagine having a servant!  I been a servant, but we never had one), he said that there was no telling when his folks would be home, so there weren’t much point in us waiting around.  So he left a note saying he’d like to come by sometime and talk to them about something important, and then we went back to the Iron Falcon where we had left our things.  We met up with everyone else (Dusty said they’d been busy rescuing slaves for Artemis while we was gone), got our stuff, and hopped on the train back to Menelaida.  (That’s too bad too: I was hoping that Geoffry could take me out dancing in one of them fancy dancing halls that they say cities got.)  I’m on the train now, writing this.  I’m gonna spend some of the trip going over Domina Moratus again, then we’ll be off to home.

It sure will be nice to be home again.  It ain’t much compared to Geoffry’s: I hope he won’t be surprised when he sees how little we got compared to his folks.  But whatever he thinks, I’ll be glad to be back: whether it’s a little or a lot, it’s all the home I got.

Dear Diary,

We’re on our way back to Antioch.  Turns out that’s Geoffry’s hometown and his momma and daddy live there, something he never mentioned before.  He said he’d like to bring me by his house to introduce me to his whole family.  I said that was fine, but the closer we get, the more nervous I’m feeling.

I mean, what if they don’t like me?  What if I do something that makes me look bad, or they reckon I’m not good enough for him, or they got their hearts set on him marrying some rich heiress who they known since she was little and whose momma is best friends with his, or they find out I’m not all that smart or don’t think I’m pretty or worthy or am a gold-digger and only out to snag a doctor?  What if one of the millions of things that could go wrong do go wrong?

I always figured I’d be meeting his folks sometime.  I just never reckoned on it being this soon!

It’ll probably be all right.  I faced gunmen and monsters and soldiers and managed.  How bad can Geoffry’s momma be?

Yeah, I know.

But anyways, it’ll be over quick.  Captain Olo just said to buckle in, we’re gonna be landing soon.  So wish me luck, dear diary.  I ain’t been this nervous since I left home.  But I’ll just do my best.  Ain’t nothing more I can do, after all.  I’ll put on my white dress with the blue flowers and make sure my fingernails is clean and do all them things Domina Moratus writes about.  And if they don’t like me, if they don’t want him to marry me, if they talk him out of it, I’ll just… well, I’ll just…

I’ll just cry my eyes out.  That’s just what I’ll do.

I reckon we’re getting near the end of the ceremony now…

Finally the procession comes to an end as your groom welcomes you to your new home. As your first act at your husband’s house, you wind the doorposts with bands of wool, representing your new domestic responsibilities, and anoint the door with oil and fat, signifying prosperity.  Domina Moratus regrets that this can be a messy procedure and suggests that you take great care to avoid blemishing your gown, which many old-fashioned observers would see as a comment on your virtue.

As it would be a terrible omen for a new bride to trip over the threshold upon first entering her new home, you will be carried.  If your husband is a doughty sort, he may decide to lift you himself.  More likely, he will select his strongest slave or close friend to do the honors.

Inside you find the house decorated with garlands and branches draped with wool, and food and drink are served to the remaining guests.  You also find a lavishly decorated model of a marriage bed wherein your spirits will reside surrounded by your friends during the night’s festivities.  It is now that your mother and father bid you farewell to return to their own home, for you have now joined your husband’s family.

Your groom leads you into the atrium where he presents you with fire and water.  Domina Moratus assures you that, if your hand is quick enough, you will not be burned as you touch the fire and water, thus accepting your new responsibilities as mistress of the hearth and the well.  In accordance with this role, you now light the hearth with the torch carried in your procession, then extinguish the torch and toss it to the guests as a symbol of good luck.  Finally, you say a brief prayer to Isis and Aphrodite, asking that they help make you a good wife.

Carrying an apple for Aphrodite to make you more alluring, you are led to the bridal chamber by your pronuba, who will help you to prepare.  Traditionally, this involved removing your jewelry and letting down your hair, leaving you in wedding shift and woolen sash.  In a modern era marked by elaborate wedding gowns fastened to bedevil the capabilities of a clumsy groom, your pronuba will  help you remove the gown as well, replacing it with the garment selected for this special occasion.  This should be a nightgown, white like your wedding shift, typically diaphanous and of a revealing cut meant to inspire your groom’s passions.  Over this gown you wear the  woolen sash still tied with the Knot of Hercules.

Once she has settled you beneath a sheet on the wedding couch, the pronuba offers a small sacrifice before departing to fetch the groom.  Both she and the best man escort him to the bed chamber, whence they quickly retreat, leaving you with alone for the first time with your husband.

From the chamber outside you hear the guests celebrating, singing songs and sharing jokes as you and your groom perform the ultimate act of this, your wedding day. Your groom begins by removing the sheet that covers you, pausing to admire the beauty that he is about to claim.  Next he reaches for your waist and the Knot of Hercules that binds it, the seal that protects your maidenhood.

The importance of the knot is now revealed, for a too-easy knot would suggest that you are a little too easy yourself, while a complicated tangle can result in a groom who must spend the night wrestling with a skein of wool instead of with his delightful new bride.  To avoid such frustration, Domina Moratus is told that it is common for the best man to slip a knife to his friend, thus allowing the eager groom to treat the Knot of Hercules as Alexander treated the knot of Gord.  While this is not objectionable, happening out of sight of any but the two most involved, Domina Moratus hopes for your sake that this rough symbolic deflowering is not an indication of your husband’s behavior when the symbolic becomes actual.

Now the moment has arrived that your groom has been eagerly anticipating since well before the betrothal.  It is time for the two of you to consummate your marriage, for your husband to take you as his own, and for you to take your final step into womanhood.  And leaving you with this happy image, it is time for Domina Moratus to close this chapter.

Wow.  I knew I’d be feeling a mite skittish when the time comes, but having Geoffry coming at me with a knife while all them people are outside singing and partying and carrying on ain’t likely to do much to settle my nerves none.  I hope what they’re singing ain’t too rough, and that Geoffry’s door is thick enough to keep out the noise.

Geoffry’s door…. hmmm….

Dear Domina Moratus,  I met my finance while we two were at school.  As such, he and I come from different towns.  How exactly do we manage the wedding procession?  I.

Dear I, Many of the wedding rituals were established in a simpler time, when young couples invariably lived local to each other.  Domina Moratus is fully aware that in these latter days other circumstances arise.  Happily, there are two solutions for the problem of distance between the couple’s homes.

One possibility is for the groom to take a temporary residence in his bride’s hometown.  This home away from home serves as his domicile in all matters ceremonial.  The details do not matter: it can be a borrowed house or hotel.  In some larger cities, there are hotels that cater specifically to this need, having facilities that come complete with an atrium in which guests can congregate and an attached bedchamber in which the couple can perform the climactic act of the ceremony.

Many a groom wishes instead to have a traditional wedding night in his own home.  To accommodate this, the wedding procession becomes an extended affair that includes travel from the bride’s hometown to that of the groom.  This has the disadvantage of introducing a delay, possibly significant, between the first part of the wedding ceremony and its culmination – something that makes this option much less popular with most grooms – but it does have the advantage of allowing local friends of bride and groom to each celebrate a part of the wedding without either having to travel.

I suppose that’s gonna take a mite of planning.  We sure don’t have no hotel like that back home, though I reckon someone will offer up their house to use if we want.  Course, Geoffry might want to go back to his home as well, though that could take days of traveling.  I wonder how you keep the torch lit that long!

• I gotta talk to you about something when things get quiet.
• Dusty does tend to take over a bit.
• I’d like some of our friends from the Minerva there, though, if that’s okay with you.
• I’m gonna try really hard to be a good wife for you and make you happy.
• I got some stuff I got to tell you.
• You okay?
• You should help her out – she knows what she’s talking about.
• Anything I can do to help?
• I’ll do whatever I can to help.
• You remember when we was on the Minerva before?
• I did some stuff I shouldn’t have done back then.
• I went on a date with one of them soldier fellers, and we made this bet.  We went down to the shooting range and bet on a shooting contest.
• He bet a gun, and I bet that he’d get to do what he might want if I lost.
• I shouldn’t have done it.  It wasn’t right at all.  It wasn’t really mine – I knew I shouldn’t bet it, that it would be my husband’s privilege, but… I reckon I don’t know why I made the bet.
• Anyway, I won the bet, but I’m awfully ashamed I made it at all.
• I thought I’d win.  I sure did want to win.  But I guess I couldn’t know for sure.
• Dusty said she was sure I’d win.
• I’m awfully sorry about it.  I won’t never do nothing like that again.
• It wasn’t really mine to bet.  It’s something you’re entitled to.
• I wanted you to know, in case it made you change your mind about anything.
• I don’t think that’s all you want.  But it’s something you deserve anyway.
• You’re so good!
• Please just hold me.
• Dusty says that it’s real important that when we get to Nihon, you follow the instructions of the maid of the Daughter of Heaven.
• I’ll do whatever you want.  I hope I’ll be your wife then, so will have to do what you want.
• You’re so good.  I’m gonna work extra hard to do whatever it takes to be a good wife for you.
• Do you want us to visit your folks when we are in Antioch?
• We can ask him.
• We could stay the night in the city before we leave.
• You’d have to say that to everyone.
• There was also another feller I dated up on the Minerva.  He was a medical feller too, but not as good as you.
• I let him kiss me once, but he didn’t kiss me like you did.
• I’m sure he didn’t.  He didn’t even come see me the next day.
• You’re being so sweet about all this!
• I won’t never give you any reason to be jealous again, I promise.  I just wanted you to know all this.
• I had me a talk with Aphrodite on the Minerva, the girl not the goddess.  She told me some things that fellers like.  Some of them sounded kind of strange, but once we’re hitched, I’ll try any of them if you want.
• I just want you to be so happy with me.
• I guess we can learn together.
• Do you think your folks will like me?
• Where did you play as a kid?
• What was it like growing up in a city?
• There any place to dance in this city?  We had square dances some, but I heard of the fancy dancing places in cities.
• I bet all the girls wanted to dance with you!
• Dusty did more dancing with me.  I was too shy.
• I bet we could dance real good together.

Dear Diary,

I was just finishing reading up on the procession when Geoffry got back from meeting with Tacita.  He looked upset, like I felt after looking at Aphrodite’s book.  When I asked him if he was okay he shook his head like a dog shaking off water and said he was awfully glad to be back with me.  And then he looked me in the eye and said that there might be some special challenges for him, once we got to Nihon, and he might be needing my help.  Of course I said I’d do whatever I could, and he seemed awfully happy and gave my hand an extra tight squeeze.

That was awfully nice.  But people was still banging in and out and I had something important to tell him.  So I asked if he’d like to go walking, and when he said yes I took him to that garden where Posca and me went that time.

The garden hadn’t changed much.  Some different flowers were blooming and the air smelled a little sweeter.  But there was still the same low glowing lights, and there was the same quiet clacking as the homculi tended the plants

We found a bench aways from the doors and I started in on writing notes.  It’s kind of awkward, having to write down things that is painful to say, but I had to do it seeing as Geoffry still don’t know any hand-talk.  See, there’s something I never did tell Geoffry, things I’m reminded on back here on the Minerva, and I owe him the truth before he commits himself to me completely.  Anyways, I felt awfully guilty about them things, and I wanted him to know.

I’m talking about what happened with Phoebus, of course.  I mean, nothing happened with him, not really.  But it could have.  I made that dumb bet with him, and even though I won it, I never should have bet.  The way I figure it now, I was betting something that wasn’t really mine.  I mean, Geoffry is entitled to be my first, seeing as he’s gonna marry me and all, and so it was really really wrong of me to do anything that might have deprived him of that.  And even though I didn’t know that Geoffry was gonna be the one, I knew that I wanted to get married some day and that losing that bet would cheat my future husband of what was rightfully his.

Anyway, I wrote all of that out for Geoffry, and about how sorry I was, and how I thought he should know and could back out and I’d be sad but I’d understand.  But he, well, he was just so nice.  I’m welling up with tears right now just thinking of how sweet he was about it all.  He said I must have known I’d win or I never would have made a bet like that, though I told him I thought I would but wasn’t sure.  And then he said that it was all right, that he knew he could trust me completely, and that he knew I’d never do anything like that again.  He was so kind and forgiving that I started crying and asked him to hold me.  He took me in his arms, and I just crawled right up in his lap and let him comfort and kiss me.

Oh diary, my Geoffry is such a good man, a kind, sweet, devoted man who gives so much of himself to help others.  He deserves all the happiness the world can bring him.  And all the happiness that I can bring him too.  I’m gonna work so hard to be a good wife for him, and if that means doing them things from Aphrodite’s book then I guess I can get used to it.  I mean, there weren’t nothing in there all that terrible, and if some of it seemed  a mite distasteful, well, I’ll get over it for my Geoffry.  That’s what he deserves of his wife, and I swear that I won’t disappoint.

Dear Diary,

Here I was, turning to Domina Moratus hoping for some relief from all that bedroom talk, only it seems as the wedding goes on, things start getting a little more blue.  About the only part of a wedding I really remember is the procession and watching Dusty fling walnuts at the bride.  Seems like I wasn’t noticing everything that was going on, though.  Here’s what Domina Moratus has to say about it.

When the meal is over and dusk approaches, it is time for the wedding procession to your new home.  This starts with the reenactment of an important moment in the Empire’s history: the Rape of the Sabines.  Like the maidens in that story, when the groom announces that it is time to go, you cling to your mother’s arms.  But your new husband grabs you by the wrists and drags you away, leading you out of doors to the gathering procession.

The procession may be by foot, by cart or chariot, or by sedan chair, with you or your pronuba carrying a spindle and distaff representing your domestic role. You are escorted on your journey by three boys whose parents are still living.  Two hold your hands, ensuring that you do not flee, while the third bears a torch to light the way.  Others too may join the procession, the destination of which is your new husband’s home.

For many a young bride, the procession is one of the more difficult and embarrassing parts of the wedding, as a certain degree of vulgarity is a common feature of this march.  While the shouts of “Talassio, Talassio,” commonly heard from the observers, are unobjectionable, that cannot be said of every behavior practiced by a mob releasing their inhibitions under a cloak of tradition.  Alas, in this case Domina Moratus must admit that such ill-mannered behavior is traditional, and thus etiquette has no defense against that boorish contingent who appreciate being offered this ceremonial excuse to indulge their poor breeding.

Domina Moratus can only advise that a bride lend a deaf ear to the coarse jokes, the crass advice, and the vulgar songs that she is likely to hear while processing, and to ignore the ribald speculations of how she will be spending the night and of the pleasures soon to be sampled by the groom.  And to not take it amiss should your new husband join in the merriment, as this too is part of the tradition.

One final word: while it is not required for you to remain veiled during the procession, it is often advisable to do so, for another procession tradition is the pelting of the bride and groom with walnuts.  Ostensibly symbolizing fertility, the throwing of the walnuts tends to bring out the worst in any young boys who happen to be present, and to demonstrate that “young boy” is often a state of mind and not of age.  But being thus targeted is not always as bad as it sounds: if you are in luck, the supplier of walnuts will have had the good sense to first remove them from the shell.

I never knew that any part of the wedding could be as bad as that.  Why, just imagine it: having folks spewing vulgarities all the while you gotta dodge projectiles sent your way by a bunch of grubby little fellers.

On second thought, that ain’t no different than what I already been doing these past months.  Maybe riding the open trail with a bunch of hired guns is better training for marriage than I realized.