Friday, March 31, 2006

Divine Retribution

I felt that God summoned me somehow through friends, etc. I've had 2 friends from the Old Country e-mail me - one with an urgent request to pray for his teenage son who was having brain surgery, the other was a request for a business to be good and plenty - they both wanted prayers at the Western Wall. I hadn't had a chance to ask anyone to pray for them, and figured, well - I'd better do this myself. It's probably because I'm asking God for some financial wedding help and He's saying - look kid - there's no free lunch. I need you to do something for me. So I did. I hadn't prayed at the Western Wall for years in fact. It actually felt wonderful when I did. I came in jeans but covered my head at the entrance. I recited several Psalms and continued and continued - I was probably there an hour. I felt a connection and that the prayers were heard.

But when I got home, all hell broke loose with my family - I wondered why I just didn't stay at the Western Wall overnight. I thought - could this be divine retribution for voting Labor? Hubby was sitting on the couch, like a stone, not a rolling stone - but a tough, unmoveable one - very sullen and morose. The Good Daughter came downstairs around 11:00 pm -

"How are you?"

"Leave me alone!" was her response.

The Complainer hadn't been home for days.

"I haven't seen you in three days! How are you."

"Shut up"

Fuck you too - kid.

But my teenage werewolve son was the worse of them all. He tormented me all evening.
He also played hookey from school yesterday. He was to be tested for learning disabilities at a specialist this morning.

"Buy me two slices of pizza. If you don't listen to me, I'm not going tomorrow." This sort of stuff went on for hours.

I told him if he doesn't go, I'll still have to pay for the testing which I will do from his bar mitzvah money and he'll just have $100 left.

My son, the bully. Not a Jewish mother's pride and joy. I closed the door and sobbed to a friend about my ungrateful, horrible family and said if this behavior continues, they can shop for the Sabbath and week by themselves and make the 10 course Sabbath meal they love to complain about, themselves as well. I'll hit the few late night coffee shops that are open on Friday night with a friend. That'll teach them to mess with mom.

Thursday, March 30, 2006

More election stickers


Most did vote for the guy who is dangerous for the Jews. Time will tell if this is indeed the case.

I was reading about the guy who got electrocuted while climbing an electrical pole to put up a Labor poster while taking down a likud poster and wondered if this was a Divine Act against Labor voters. Then I'm up shit's creek, ain't I. Posted by Picasa

election day


Just a couple of snaps about the elections I found about town in Jerusalem. This one hit it right on. Posted by Picasa


It's always fun going to my dentist. Especially mine who makes me feel like I'm a freak of nature.

"Your sinuses are really low."

"Excuse me?"

He showed me my x-rays and pointed to a thin white line over my teeth. My tooth had been bothering me and he suspects allergies because it is olive-blooming season and with it, the pollen.

"When we went to classes for implants, they showed us a photo of someone with low sinuses that should be way up over the teeth - the sinus membrane would probably have to be lifted for the implant to take place. I thought 'I've never come across anyone with that problem' - until you came along."

Love you too, doc.

I had taken off a half-day sick to hear this and this made me feel even sicker.

Nonetheless, the next day was election day and all offices/banks/post offices were closed. My children in the waitressing industry all had to work though. Hubby went to finish up a job as well. It seems I am the matriarch of voting in my home. I have 3 children of voting age. Two didn't vote because they were working until all hours - but the Good Daughter was off work and wanted to vote with me for the first time.

"Who are you voting for?" she asked.

"Labor. It's the lesser of the 3 evils." I actually wanted to vote for the Pensioner Party or the Green Leaf party but didn't think voting for small parties would make a difference.

"Fine. I'll vote for labor too." Simple as that. Influence your non-thinking family. Hubby also opted for Labor because I said so. I wish fund-raising for my daughter's wedding should be so easy.

On to the polling station, teenage campaigners of different parties thrust papers in our faces.

"No, No, NO!" we told them and shook our heads at them as if we were famous and they were pestering us for autographs.

Voting was painless and provincial. Back to the non-computer age. You give your ID card to about 5 people sitting at a table who mark you off their list. They give you an official envelope and you go to your voting booth and stick a square piece of paper with the letters of the party you're voting for inside the envelope. Labor's letters, funnily enough were "Aleph, Mem, Tet - Emet" which means "truth". I hope so, but am pretty cynical of any political party standing for "truth".

Back home, my Good Daughter told me her new boyfriend voted for Jewish right-wing extremist Baruch Marzel.

"WHAT!!!!???" shrieked I.

"Don't worry mom. I'll change him." said she.

Saturday, March 25, 2006

Saturday at the movies

A friend and I meet monthly on Saturdays to go see movies at the Smadar Theater in Jerusalem. Brokeback Mountain was playing - she wasn't crazy about seeing this movie, but I really wanted to see this and nothing else piqued my interest so we ended up seeing it today. We both really enjoyed this flick and pondered about it for hours afterwards at the Scottish Coffee shop.

"Could you imagine how many people must go through what these guys in the film went through?" I said to my friend, thinking of all the gay Moslems and Orthodox Jews who have to hide their secret from their communities and families.

Then we went through our dating history thinking about those boyfriends who could have been gay. Like the Irish/Italian dude I dated in the early 1980s who abhored homosexuals. I was working in the music industry and one of my colleagues was Elton John's former boyfriend. He had an assortment of very colorful friends. It pained me to see this boyfriend being such an asshole around my gay friends. So it got me wondering if he wasn't just suppressing his "feelings" by being so homophobic.

Then my friend told me she thought her ex-husband could have been gay. He had a magnetic attraction with men and when she wrote in her diary stuff about him that she detested, which he read like - "you're a shmuck, an asshole, an idiiot, you look like Frankenstein, you're a goy...etc." nothing bugged him except the "you're a goy" bit, because he thought she wrote "you're a gay." And he flipped out over that one - totally.

We laughed so hard over that story that the walls of the old Scottish Coffee Shop shook and thought - oh shit - these nice and quiet European hotel guests staying there had probably never witnessed American/Canadian Jewish females letting loose. I thought for sure, they're gonna come over and throw us out.

Then Tamer called. Poor Tamer. I had to tell him I'm putting all peace activities on hold until after the wedding. I simply have no time. I just have time for chaos and peace will have to wait. He seemed not to have heard me. He blabbered on.

"Can we meet on Sunday? Next Saturday I'm bringing all my friends to your house. Do you think you or your husband can get me a work permit? Do you think you can find me a wife? I think the person you tried to set me up with had many lovers...yada yada yada"

My head was spinning and I politely told him I had to go. To go and get him some ritalin.

And I knew I should not have eaten that Scottish Scone. How will I ever fit into nice mother of the bride clothing in 3 month's time?

Monday, March 20, 2006

Gypsy daughters

"Our daughter could be getting married as early as June" I told Hubby as he drove us home.

"Are you getting all stressed out about it?" he asked.

Not at all. In fact, I should be totally stressed. We have $200 saved up for this wedding, which should cost us a total of about $10,000. And we have 3 months to find this moolah. I should be screaming for HELP. I should be tearing my hair out. I should be telling my daughter to elope and forget about a real wedding because in reality, unless I win a lottery, we could only save $2,000 by then. But I feel strangely calm about all this. I don't know why. Perhaps it's my meatless diet or my macrobiotic diet. I know everything will fall into place. It always does somehow.

I did cry yesterday as I tossed out my leftover chicken, though. None of my kids were ready to eat chicken even though the health ministry has been telling everyone as long as you cook the chicken, even if the bird is infected with avian flu, the heat will kill the bacteria. But not trusting our government, believing that the chicken industry is probably too valuable for them to destroy or to compensate, we decided they were lying and we weren't going to eat chicken for a while. I guess I could have been also brought to tears because I had to cook yesterday's dinner instead of eating the leftovers, as is our custom on Sundays. It's too traumatic for me to begin my work week on Sunday AND have to cook dinner all on the same day. So it shouldn't be a total loss, we tossed the chickens to the street cats out in the back. There were 2 days worth of human dinners out near the garbage and the cats took to it gracefully.

Then my daughters came home last night early enough to grace me with a conversation. The Good Daughter broke up with her Romanian boyfriend of 4 years - she broke his heart but she wanted to "date" because she had never had that experience. He was her first boyfriend. She found some Persian guy she liked over the many others that have been calling her lately, who she favors over them all.

The Complainer broke up with her Persian boyfriend of 1 1/2 years because he cheated on her. He calls her all the time and pops over still. He is heartbroken too. She immediately fell into the arms of some other poor soul, whose family on his mother's side is in the Israeli Mafia. Wow. Now, we have connections. Hubby doesn't know this yet, but I'm sure he won't be so pleased. He'll blame it all on me going to my friend's messianic synagogue for Purim where I laughed at the Godfather parody during the reading of the Megillah. But the Complainer, in one of her wiser moments, told me - "We're not a perfect family either. Dad's brother is gay, does that mean we're all gay?"

Certainly not. I'm miserable. Just kidding. She did give me alot of pleasure though with that bright retort.

Sunday, March 19, 2006

chicken little

With the bird flu in low swing in the Negev, my kid called me up frantic.

"No more chicken for me!" she claimed. Ah, another victory for the animal rights movement. Plus it will conveniently lower the costs of our hefty food bills.

What will I do with all the leftovers? Apparently it's ok to eat cooked chicken, not that I've ever served uncooked chicken.

Not to mention Hubby was totally antsy over the weekend.

"I had turkey all WEEK!!" he yelled at me - as if celebrating Purim by eating turkey was going to kill us all and, ironically, fulfill the wish of the evil Persian Haman.

He didn't even blast me for going to my friend's messianic congregation to hear the Megillah. I went out of sheer curiosity and thought, well, hell - how much can they figure Jesus into Purim? So I cringed a bit through some of the songs they sang before the Megillah reading which mentioned Yeshua the Messiah (as all traditional Jews do because it's, well, traditional to cringe) and sang along with them the Psalms and other stuff that stuck to the original text. They didn't read from a real parchment scroll but from xeroxed papers and it was more of a comedy show, which I really enjoyed rather than the more somber, traditional readings. The "3 Stooges" on stage who read this put on different hats to enact the various characters and everyone especially loved the Persian King Ahashverosh, who did a sephardic Marlon Brando-as-Godfather thing. Then they had a pot luck and I didn't eat much. I told my friend "I don't eat milk and meat together" (at least not in the same meal), because there was one dish with shredded cheese that I took.

Overhearing us was this Christian woman who immediately butted in "OH! That was a mistake. I'll take that cheese dish off right away.!"

She was truly upset at this mishap of the traditional Jewish way of not mixing meat and dairy dishes together. And I was touched by her sincerity.

The Genie

A woman rubbed a bottle and out popped a genie. The amazed woman asked if she got three wishes.

The genie said, "Nope, sorry, three-wish genies are a storybook
myth. I'm a one-wish genie. So...what'll it be?"

The woman did not hesitate. She said, "I want peace in the Middle East. See this map? I want these countries to stop fighting with each other and I want all the Arabs to love the Jews and Americans and vice-versa. It will bring about world peace and harmony."

The genie looked at the map and exclaimed, "Lady, be reasonable. These countries have been at war for thousands of years. I'm out of shape after being in a bottle for five hundred years... I'm good but not THAT good! I don't think it can be done. Make another wish and please be reasonable! "

The woman thought for a minute and said, "Well, I've never been able to find the right man. You know - one that's considerate and fun, likes to cook and help with the house cleaning, is great in bed, and gets along with my family, doesn't watch sports all the time, and is faithful. That is what I wish for...a good man."

The genie let out a sigh and said, "Let me see that fucking map again."

Saturday, March 18, 2006

Would you believe

Who would have ever thought that in Israel, yes - with all its shysters - I would have gotten a call telling me that my husband is paying too much on his cellphone bill. Perhaps he would like to come in and switch to another program which would enable him to get a much lower rate per minute - cut by 75%!!! Well I'll be. I coralled Hubby one night just to get him over to the office to get it done. The cellphone company we're talking about is Orange. God bless Orange. Of course we waited at the wrong office - which was the sales office - not the service office, for 1 1/2 hours before we were told to go to the other office 2 minutes before closing time. Nothing here is absolutely perfect.

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

Purim Festivities

We're celebrating the holiday of Purim - maybe I'll get some nice photos to describe this holiday. Maybe not. Purim was celebrated by the rest of the world yesterday, but in Jerusalem, it is celebrated today.

In any case, I tried to have an interfaith gathering at my home yesterday which totally flopped. For one, Tamer from a West Bank village tried unsuccessfully to get a permit to get into Jerusalem. During the holidays, though, there is a total closure on the West Bank so that even people with permits do not get in. He complained to me that in general they won't give him a work permit because he isn't married, then asked me to find him a wife. Any single Moslem women out there? He doesn't even mind married an "International" - i.e. a non-Moslem. Somehow, I think he'd even prefer that over a local woman. But his calls are coming in to me daily, and he seems to be getting desperate to get some kind of work permit. They did give him one, finally, but only for 3 days after the holiday. Not much work you can find for just 3 days.

But the others did not come either - it is difficult to go outside Jerusalem - so it ended up being one person (Jewish) from the interfaith group and the rest from my neighborhood. I managed to buy and cook a turkey for the occasion, but I see that most Israelis do not. The bird just barely fit into my Israeli-made oven and it was only 7 kilo (15 lbs).

Our guests talked about the new meaning of Purim for us - that this holiday resulted because of a Persian anti-semite who wanted to destroy the Jews, but miraculously the Jewish queen Esther saved the day. Haman, the Hitler of that day, descended from the tribe of Amalek, and there is a biblical commandment to stamp out Amalek. Unfortunately today, we each think the Other is Amalek and attempt do everything that can be done to "stamp" the Other out (Although I do think the current Iranian nuctcase president is a close relative to this tribe of Amalek). But we are told to "blot out the memory of Amalek" - because if none of us really check ourselves, we can become this "amalek-type" being and just wish for the Other's annihilation. Now that we are in Israel, and relatively safe in our land (which we share with the Other), it would be good to really blot out the memory of Amalek so we could live peacefully with one another.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

good people of jerusalem

After getting a new cellphone yesterday, I spotted a new Yemenite restaurant in the premises of what used to be a really good Chinese restaurant in the industrial section of Talpiot on the corner of the Rav Chen mall. The Hong Kong lady went back to China after 10 years of business here. I didn't have much money on me,and hell - it was my 23rd anniversary - which I did not celebrate with Hubby who is acting like someone you do not want to celebrate a wedding anniversary with. I had $4 on me (the shekel equivalent, anyways - who carries US $ around here?). I ordered melawach (a fried puff-pastry pancake like thing) and yemenite tea from the owner. He insisted his melawach is not what I get in the stores - his is bigger and hand made. He served it to me with crushed tomatoes and a bright green hot paste. I wanted to know what level "hot" it was - if a Yemenite tells you it's a little hot, watch out. It's extremely hot. If he tells you it's not hot at all, it's probably a bit spicy.

"This isn't spicy at all."


I slabbed it on my melawach and it was just spicy enough to get my nose running.

He noticed me looking at my change - I had just enough for the meal.

"You don't have to pay me now. You can come in next week if you want to."

Huh? How many restaurant owners give you that choice.

"You're a new business. How do you expect to make a living here, if you're going to trust that everyone will come in a week later and pay you?" I asked him.

He rolled his eyes upward and pointed to heaven. "It's all up to God" he told me.

I left him a small tip, which he handed back to me and told me not to waste my money. Wow.

Sunday, March 12, 2006

Meet the Fockers

Well it seemed like we were in that movie anyways - two families, same religion, but totally different cultures. My daughter first thought that just the mother of the groom-to-be would be coming to meet us on Saturday night. That's all I invited. But then she informed me that his two sisters with their husbands are coming too. HELP! I had 1 1/2 hours to get it all together - tuna salads and egg salads with garnishes (I am proud of my garnishes), as well as sparkling wine, fruit salad, apple pie and cheese cake and assorted Moroccan pastries. The table looked lovely, and I was so nervous.

Moments before they came my Good Daughter and Son were having a go on my nerves.

"MOM! He just farted by the cheesecake!"

Ahhh true Osborne-like behavior. Let them get it out of their system now before the guests come, rather than during their visit.

Then they walked in. With bouquets of flowers so big that if the spies from the time of Moses would have seen those, they surely would have reported those mothers back to him - never mind those man-size grapes. They also brought a huge gift basket, and a bottle of Chivas. Wow. What's up with all that?? It's normal for people coming from Arab countries (even Jews) to be extremely generous when it comes to celebrating. Not like us cheap Westerners.

Most understood English except for my daughter's future mom-in-law. Hubby could only relate in English and we talked in both languages and everyone seemed friendly. The men in the family were staunch right-wingers and asked me who I was voting for. Well I won't tell them - Labor party. That might ruin the engagement. I opted for the middle. "Kadima of course".


There. Vote Shas - the Sephardic ultra-orthodox party - and enter heaven. But it was a friendly yell. I really didn't think, by the end of the night, they really gave a shit who I vote for.

Hubby was telling them about his favorite synagogue which is 1 hour away. We were thinking - is he going to tell them about our favorite Reform synagogue. Now? Can't he wait until AFTER the kids are married to irritate the Orthodox in-laws? But he never elaborated further. I wondered if they noticed my book on Islam on prominent display on my bookshelf?

Saturday, March 11, 2006

The Wedding Planner

Eldest Daughter and her future Hubby have not yet set a date - but are doing so within the next few days. She doesn't want something in Jerusalem, but wants a nice place outside the city.

Sure. Why not inconvenience all your guests who have to get car rides for this event.

"She's young. She wants a fairy-tail wedding" said my friend from work. Trouble is, she doesn't have a fairy godmother.

The internet wasn't working at home this entire week and frustrated, she told me to look for wedding places on the internet for her.

"I can choose them for you?"

That could be dangerous. Our tastes are similar, yet different. She doesn't like hippie-type, weddings-in-nature, weddings-in-antiquities-sites places. I do. But knowing she doesn't, I didn't bother printing those. There were a ton of places in the Tel Aviv/Herzlyia area which looked like high-tech wedding halls, with Japanese Chupahs (wedding canopies used in Jewish weddings). Ugh. Too high tech, very non-romantic. The places by the ocean looked lovely. I printed out those for her.

Then there were these pastoral places with streams and rivers running through them. I printed those out but imagined the mosquitos would be having more of a feast than the wedding guests in the summer.

There were a couple of beautiful places near Jerusalem, overlooking the mountains. I hope she picks one of those. It'll be far less humid and there'll be fewer mosquitos.

And these types of things to take note of are pretty much what I'm good at, not to mention for selfish and practical reasons, I'd prefer it to be close to Jerusalem.

Pass that Sperm please

One of the funniest things I read in the papers yesterday morning, that made me spit out my de-caf coffee laughing away, was that murdered prime minister killer, Yigal Amir, was caught smuggling sperm to his wife in jail.

You wonder - how did they catch him?

How did they try and smuggle it. orally? with his dinner? in a cup? spoon? a handshake?

Wonder what the conversation like between the guards who caught him and his wife.

This is true fodder for Jay Leno.

Guard: Can I see that?

Amir: See what?

Guard: What you just passed to your wife.

Amir: It's just phlegm. I got this awful cough, see?

Guard: You're passing phlegm to your wife?

Amir: She's into holistic shit and all that. She'll test it and see what I have.

Guard: Test it! That's what we're afraid of. No one's testing that. Gimme that!

He grabs ahold of the cup/spoon or whatever. Larissa tries to take it back - screaming "My baby! My baby!" It goes all over the guard's face. The guard is like - fuck! That shit tastes awful!

But they won't print that scenario in the papers.

Sunday, March 05, 2006

Visitors from the Old Country

I spent the morning telling everyone at work that my daughter was "Arusa" which means "engaged" in Hebrew, being careful not say that my daughter was "Harusa", which means "destroyed" - although that could be interchangeable once they marry, non?

Last night, though, we were invited to dinner with friends from Canada who were here on a visit. I ran over to them, and was happily met with

"Wow! Did you get a face lift or something. Have you been sleeping with other men?"


Walking to the restaurant, the elated tourists from the Great White North, looked at me seriously.

"What happened to you."

"Whaddya mean?"

"We hear you're into this Peace Now stuff. How COULD you!! You used to be so right wing!!"

Always at a loss for how to start off conversations like these, I said whatever words flew into my head at that moment.

"Look, I'm just tired of all the hate and violence. I want to live in a place where there isn't any of that. So I get together as often as possible with a group of people that have that vision too."

"Don't you know you can't trust any of them?"

"I thought just like that too. Remember."

"Well, we don't live here and don't know everything going on."

"Exactly. There's no simple solution to all the problems. But having little faith in either government, I have alot of faith in people. We'll get it going somehow."

My friends still seemed horrified. They are thoroughly for transferring the entire Arab population in Israel to other Arab countries.

"How can you do that to people who have been here hundreds of years who have roots here?" I said, equally as horrified.

She refused to believe Arabs have roots here. Same story. Many Arabs also refuse to believe WE have roots here. But we have to realize both our people do and respect each other for it. Whatever.

We sat down to eat and drink and be merry. This is the Jewish month of merriment, after all. And I had countless drinks of Japanese sake.

"You heard Wolfgang Droege got shot last year?" asked our friend. Wolfgang was a notorious White Supremist in the 1980s in Toronto. Hubby's gay brother befriended the rather lonely racist and Wolfgang eventually tried to get out of his evil ways, finding it difficult to find legitimacy - because it's hard when you're marked as a racist for people to grasp that sometimes even THEY can change.

"Well, why do you think he got out of being a white supremist? Don't you think the friendship between his new Jewish friend and himself was a bit of a factor there?"

In that restaurant not only was there an abundance of food to stuff ourselves with, but also an abundance of food for thought.

Saturday, March 04, 2006

Fishing for Diamonds

I woke up on my day off on Friday at 6:00 am ready to do the morning's shopping at 7:00 am when the store opens, to avoid the mad pre-Sabbath rush. My Eldest daughter had just gotten home from work, but told me she was going fishing with her Tunisian boyfriend in Herzliya.

"Fishing for diamonds?" I asked jokingly because they had been discussing getting married.

She didn't answer, but made the guy wait 1/2 hour while she got ready.

"You're already dressed, what is it you have to prepare for - you're going fishing - for god's sake."

Hubby had his ciggie outside with the boyfriend. After they left Hubby walked back in the house.

"He showed me the ring."

"What ring?"

"A diamond ring he bought for her. It's a pretty nice size too"

Oh Shit. I just asked her if she was gonna go fishing for diamonds. She'll probably tell him I said that and it'll ruin the morning!"

We assumed either the guy will stick the diamond in with the shrimp bait or inside the fish's mouth and have her fish the ring out.

I spent the morning with a friend I hadn't seen in years, to get caught up on old gossip from my high tech job. On the way there, I was thinking about the ring and if he was indeed going to give it to her today. I was smiling to myself on the bus, and didn't give a shit if people thought I was insane or not.

Funny thing was - my friend and I are both in our 50's and had more than one senior moment.

"Do you remember what's his/her name, that sat next to you?"
"What was the name of the red head there"
"There was a guy on the plane I met who married someone from there. They worked together."

We laughed over our chocolate mint teas, because after 15 minutes or so, the names eventually came to us.

Hubby picked me up at noon to go shopping. I got a call while in the store.

"Hi Mommy"

"Hi sweetie. Catch any big fish today?"

"Yeah, two!"

"Wow! Great. When are you coming home?"

"I'm already home and want to show you the ring I got!"

"what ring?"

"A diamond one."

"You mean it's official? I can go around telling all my friends, and everyone at work? It's been so difficult keeping this all secret you know!"

"Please make it home fast, because we want to go to his mother's house now before the Sabbath."

Well, folks, one never saw me rush through the store as quickly as I did that day. I pulled things off the shelves so fast, everything I touched went flying all over the place - chips, paper plates, cups - I don't even remember if I bothered to pick anything up from the floor. I whizzed through that place like a tornado and couldn't deal with shopping carts in my way.

I truly believe Hubby was more pleased at me running through the store in record breaking speed than he was at our daughter's engagement.

I called my brother while I was waiting on line.

"My daughter's got a ring!"

"What kind of ring. A nose ring?"


"Wow. Far out (he still uses 60's lingo)"

"Is he a kippa wearer?"

"He is actually. He's Shabbat observant and wants her to do the same, but isn't asking anything else from her."

Bro' was absolutely thrilled about that, and I think his being a "kippa wearer" even brought us all a notch up in his book. I had to laugh because it wasn't

"Is he nice? Does he treat her with respect? Does he make a decent living?"

But to my family wearing a kippah, is above all, a first pre-requisite. I always used to argue about this with my folks 30 years ago when I'd see criminals in the newspaper, dressed in Hassidic garb, going to jail for fraud, etc.

"Bet you'd haved like me to marry one of those, eh? Kippah wearers and all."

At the house, I did my ooohing and ahhing over her ring and kissed the future bride and groom, taking the first photos of the couple together.

When they left Hubby asked "Do you think he's the right guy for her?"

"Look, he's met our family quite a few times and he STILL wants to marry her. Of course, he's right for her."