Italian wedding.

When the bride threw her bouquet behind her, to a crowd of girls, it was caught by the tall one in the green dress. Good luck to her, she will be married soon.....
Inside the ancient church, all was bare, rough stonework, except for a large fresco which had been mutilated to accomodate a window, sometime during history.
The whole setting was beautiful, each detail of the gardens reflecting an eye for timeless beauty....and the view of Bracciano lake to set it off.
The guests were all very smartly dressed, except for one who refused to wear a proper suit and tie because.....not naming anyone though.
For the occasion, I forced myself into serious clothing given to me by my SIL and shoes with lowish heels. My feet and posture reflected how unaccustomed I felt.

There were signs in two languages to explain that guests were not allowed to remove their shoes. The lawns were so lush and green that, had it not been for the notice, I would have relieved my aching feet, as would most of the other guests.
The food was great and so was the music. In the church there was a harp and what I thought was an oboe, although I couldn't see it from where I was standing. That set me off thinking about our Titch and made me feel very sad which is not ok for a joyful event such as a wedding.
The bride and groom were clearly and touchingly in love. 
In the afternoon a band played in the garden. There was a lot of dancing, especially by the happy couple who know what they are doing.
My SIL wasn't able to attend on account of health issues.
Not my family, not my style but still very enjoyable. 
Baldrick was glad to see us return home and so was I. We were home in time to see the second set of Jannik Sinner's first match after a three months stop.
No dinner tonight, just a glass of water and bed.