Auntie Mae’s Various Ramblings on Life in a Small Town

Ida Mae Nowes  
Nubbins Special Correspondent 

When love is not madness, it is not love,” an old poet once said, and I’m just crazy enough to agree.

Last month I told how the invitation to my wedding to Merl Demonbreun at 4 o’clock on March 25th was accidentally printed in the Nubbins Gazette, opening up the event to the entire town. The fallout from that mistake not only annihilated the carefully thought-out wedding plans, it threatened the marriage itself. When I finally had the nerve to tell Merl about it, he wanted to simply print a retraction in the paper. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

“You haven’t lived in Nubbins your whole life like I have, Merl,” I whined at him over the phone. “Half the people in this town think of me as their auntie. It was bad enough that I was planning to limit the original guest list to 60, but to open it up to the community and then change my mind – even if it was a mistake – that would seem like an incredible snub. I’d never live it down.”

“Aren’t you the one who said the wedding was not about pleasing other people?” Merl asked sarcastically. “Even if we were to go through with this, how could we possibly feed all these people?” Things were definitely not looking good. 

“What about bagging the whole thing and eloping?” Merl asked.

“I can’t imagine getting married without my close friends by my side,” I sulked. 

“And my mother would kill us,” Merl sighed.

In the end, we decided to sleep on it before making a decision, but our goodbyes that night were a bit frosty. 

The next day, my young friend Johnny Mac stopped by with Mae the dog. 

“I’m sorry, Johnny Mac, I don’t have time to chat right now,” I said, distracted, as I stood at the kitchen door. But Mae began nuzzling my hand, so I took a moment to pet her. 

“That’s okay,” Johnny Mac said. “My mom just wanted me to give you this dish you left at the church potluck supper on Wednesday.” He handed me my glass casserole dish, then added, “Pretty cool you having that big party for your wedding. I was hoping Mae might be in it, but that’ll be fun, too. Will there be balloons?”

I stopped for a moment and stared at him.

“Johnny Mac, you’re a genius!” I said.

“What is it?” he asked.

“You’ve given me an idea …”

You never know what kind of weather March will bring, but March 25th this year dawned about as perfectly as a spring day can – blue skies, birds singing, and a promise of temperatures in the low 70s. In the open lot next to my house was a big white tent, with bunches of yellow and white balloons tied to its poles. Beneath the tent were the tables and chairs we had borrowed from the church. 

At 4:00, Merl and I smiled broadly as we calmly greeted our many guests, each one bearing a potluck dish.

“Great idea you had about putting that ‘correction’ in the newspaper reminding everyone to bring a potluck dish,” my friend Roberta said to me as she carried a carafe of coffee out to the tent. “I’m sure that cut out about half your guests,” she added with a snicker.

The string quartet played softly in the corner of the yard, with plans to ramp up the tempo in an hour or so. People were laughing and sharing conversations, and I must say I looked fabulous in the lemon yellow dress my friend Myrtle helped me pick out. About 4:20 I got the question I knew people would eventually start asking.

“Ida Mae, hon, when is the wedding ceremony going to start?” Martha Crabtree asked.

“Oh, I thought everyone had heard,” I responded with a very sweet smile. “The invitation in the paper was actually for the reception. The ceremony was this afternoon at 2:00.”

“What? Oh, my goodness,” Martha stammered. “I’m so sorry I missed it. Was it just lovely?”

“Yes, it was,” responded Merl, who had just walked up and taken my hand. “Especially the part when Johnny Mac and Mae came in carrying the wedding rings.”

“You mean that dog with the bow around her neck?” asked Martha, looking over at Mae, who was sniffing under a table looking for fallen crumbs. “Oh, I wish I had been here,” she moaned. “Am I the only one who missed it?”

“Unfortunately, there were a few others who didn’t make it, but don’t worry,” I assured her. “This is the fun part. There will be dancing soon, you know.

”Martha’s face perked up and she headed back to the food table. I saw her talking to others and hoped she was spreading the word to everyone who might be expecting a wedding ceremony – the one that was held two hours earlier with just our closest friends and family. Merl whispered in my ear, “Ida Mae, you’re a little bit crazy.”

“I know,” I whispered back. “That’s why you married me.

”Mae barked in agreement.