Getting ready for getting married

Today was very busy; we had to meet lots of people in charge of different parts of the wedding today, and ensure everything was in place. In the morning we began this task by going and eating lunch at a Sri Chinoy vegetarian restaurant, and then I spent half an hour trying on hats at a Banana Republic in a nearby mall.

However, by the afternoon we'd shifted into a higher gear. First we met the justice of the peace who would be officiating the ceremony, inside a Tim Horton's. That sounds like a low-rent assignation between spies working for two minor countries, but at least they serve doughnuts there. Our J.P. was incredibly Canadian: he kept saying 'eh' at the end (and in the middle) of every sentence, and had one of those strange accents that sounds a bit Canadian, and a bit Irish, and a bit Scottish, and a bit like the West Country, so that the more you listened to it, the more you began to suspect he was a Canadian impersonator and not the real deal after all.

And like staring at a fractal, every time you thought you'd noticed something odd, he'd say something odder, like mentioning the previous week when the happy couple almost came to blows, because the bride was offended by the question "do you know of any lawful reason why these two can't get married?" or the member of the family who'd congratulated his work as a justice of the peace because "he didn't insult anyone". I'm beginning to wonder about the structure of Canadian marriage services.

After that, we drove down to the waterfront and went to inspect the boat, which is large and has lots of water around it, but no water inside. This is a Good Thing. After spending ten minutes trying to count tables to figure out if we had enough space for everyone, we wandered back to the quayside and then I went to get my hair cut.

Usually this happens every few months when I'm brave/stupid/hairy enough to let a little old man with a razor blade and no English skills have at my scalp, so it was interesting to have a young Canadian woman with a razor blade have a go instead. Certainly it was rather more civilised to have her chop at my hair and ask about my most recent holiday, rather than bring over two friends to laugh at my head, and it seems to look a bit nicer than the last couple of haircuts I received in a back alley somewhere.

After that, and after my fiancee having her hair done, which took an hour and was then obliterated so I get a surprise when we're married, we drove over to see the Cake Lady, who is busily constructing our cake within the basement of her house (or the 'cake cave' as she calls it). We spent half an hour discussing the finer points of cake design, surprised her when she discovered one part of the wedding cake is a replica of my novel, and then, as we prepared to leave, I asked if we could try some sample cake. It had been six hours since the overly-vegetarian food, and I hadn't had a bite in the meantime. Happily sample cake was quickly proffered in large amounts, and that made me happy as it was very fine cake indeed, quite good enough to make me feel happy that we'd be eating properly on the boat.

Exhausted and a bit poorer, we drove back home and rested for a few hours. Tomorrow is another big day, as my parents arrive in Halifax - their first time crossing the Atlantic. It will be a gradual change for them, as many English institutions like McDonalds and Starbucks are also present here, but after a week I think they should be brave enough to ask for a bag of 13 Timbits at a Tim Hortons drive through. Now I should get some sleep so I have the mental fortitude to cope with them for the next few days.