We attended the best wedding on Saturday.
The ceremony was held at Old St. Pat's, a Catholic church built in the 1850s before the Chicago fire, and one of the few structures that lived to tell about it.
The church was restored with massive amounts of Celtic artwork handpainted from altar to balcony. The art and stained glass are sights to behold.
I'm thinking it's entirely likely that my husband's ancestors, the Meaghers, worshipped here (100 years before some would become Methodist, that is).
There was even a bagpiper to lead the wedding party recessional. (Being Presbyterian, this was familiar music to me.)
Poor man, dressed in wool and blowing pipes in a city baking at 95 degrees. But, blow he did, and tirelessly, on the steps of Old St. Pat's.
Baby Hannah, rocking a pink and purple fascinator and a backpack au même temps, was particularly entranced by the music of the pipes.
Later at the reception, we saw her bopping to the Irish dancers and the live band.
We did a little bopping, too.
Much happiness to the bride and groom and their families.
Thank you for a grand and memorable evening.