Rosie's Wedding

Off we gaily on we go,
Heel for heel and toe for toe,
Arm in arm and row on row,
All for Rosie's wedding.

A week ago today Rosie was married at St.Mary's Anglican church in Glen Eira Rd., Caulfield. It was a conventional wedding. The day was warm. My tie was tight. The photography session that followed in the church gardens seemed to go on forever. The official photographer was a lady. I would guess she was of Italian extraction, with a booming voice. She organized the throng into various group photos with the command of a drill sergeant. Another pro, a man with an impressive movie camera, roamed among the gathered friends and relatives taking "best wishes Matt and Rosie" type comments for posterity.

The church, opposite Shelford Girls Grammar School, was built in 1871 according to the date stone above the front entrance. A feature of the garden is a magnificent cork oak, Quercus suber, of almost perfect spreading form. I found a church official who told me the tree was older than the church - there's a painting somewhere, he said, of the site before construction of the church which showed the then young tree already there.

We'd booked a two bedroom apartment at the Carnegie Motor Inn, where we had a little ziz before the reception, which was 'The Gables', in Finch St. East Malvern, commencing 6.00pm. 'The Gables' was built in 1902 as a private residence and was occupied thus till 1938 when it was first used for receptions. When a private residence, it was a well known hang out for underworld figures including 'Sqizzy Taylor'. An upstairs room was for gambling and a concealed shute was used for the crims to jump into and escape to the garden if police arrived. So said the Maitre d' who was in the garden for a smoke when I went outside with Lib, who needed 'some air' for the same reason. It crossed my mind that there is no concern about gambling and speakeasies now, the casino is open 24/7 and the grog flows all night in Melbourne.

By coincidence, Elvie and Lyle's wedding reception also was at 'The Gables', on 4 Dec 1948. Elvie Lived in nearby Ashburton and Lyle in Hartwell. Elvie's father Edgar paid for the reception. There were 90 guests, 75% of them from Lyle's side. Nanna Myrt, Lyle's mum, approached Edgar saying they wanted more of their people to attend, and that they would stand the extra cost. Edgar turned them down, saying it was his daughter's wedding, he was paying, the guest list was final, or there'd be no reception. Good on him. It must have been a huge cost for a humble, hardworking grocer, way back in the post war years.

Elvie said it was 104 degreesF on her wedding day. They were married at the Gardiner Church of Christ where Lyle played for the football team in the Eastern suburbs churches comp. This was another point of contention for Lyle's family, they wanted the wedding held at the Brethren Gospel Hall a few doors up. Elvie's mum Annie had a migraine attack on the day. It's a pity Lyle is no longer with us, to have seen Rosie and Matt marry. Rosie was his shining star.

Rosie's day had no hitches. The newly weds are honeymooning in Port Douglas and Dunk Island. The was a suggestion in the invitation that a wedding present of cash could be made to a travel agent so the guests contributed to honeymoon cost I suppose. We didn't like the idea of an anonymous gift via a travel agent so we gave Rosie and Matt cash, in person. She bought a camera with it, and took a group photo of us and her with it before she left the reception. We took another wrapped gift to the reception, a plate handpainted by Jennie Smith in 1982. (Keith and Jenny Smith are friends of mine from Gembrook and run the Camellia Range wholesale nursery) We wrote on the back in marker pen. 'To Matt and Rosie, from Libby, Carey, Gordon and Robbie, 26 Sep 2008'.

Jod didn't come to the wedding. He wasn't comfortable about the distance to travel and losing a day's work, it being a Friday. He looked after the farm and did what he could for Foxy's Sunday order. When I saw him on the Monday after, he spoke fondly of Rosie saying, "She didn't turn out too bad in the end." His eyes softened and a grin came to his face as he went on. "Isn't it strange? 26 September is the same day Daniel Boone died. In 1820. One hundred and eighty-eight years ago." Jod has a book about Daniel Boone and knows everything about him.

It never would have crossed my mind, Daniel Boone that is. But I clearly remember Rosie's birthday, June 20 1981. Meredith and Reg didn't make into the hospital. Rosie was born on the seat of the cabin of the Toyota one ton tray truck, in the hospital carpark, ten days after Lib and I moved to Gembrook from Wangaratta, 27 years ago.

Off we gaily on we go,
Heel for heel and toe for toe,
Arm in arm and row for row,
All for Rosie's wedding.