Figaro, our 5-year-old white peacock, is no longer a bachelor.
I have been in search of a mate for him since last October when his gal, Jewel, disappeared after having been here for 4 years. I combed the state of Vermont through my connections with the Vermont Bird Fanciers, through my past peafowl connections, putting out the want-ad a dozen different ways through media of all sorts.
In the past week, through the United Peafowl Association, I was finally successful in finding a mail-order bride for my guy.
A beautiful farm in E. Bridgewater, Massachusetts, a mere 3-hour, 45-minute drive away, had not one, but two white peahens. Because a peacock would naturally entertain a harem, we decided that since it’d been such a search to find a suitable bride to begin with, two brides were better than one. True to our farm’s namesake, this was an 11th hour decision.
It’s my reputation in our household that as far as movie genre goes, mom likes “anything that ends in a wedding.” It didn’t take much prompting to announce, on Friday, a general public invite to a shotgun wedding. At the crack of dawn on Saturday morning, I drove to fetch the brides.
Short back story: stayed up WAY too late on Friday night making banners and floral corsages for the attendants & musicians, hurried WAY too early Saturday morning to prepare wedding favors & flower girl baskets before departing, then pulled over to blue lights not even 15 minutes into my journey. Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. Mr. Officer didn’t flinch when I told him why I was in such a hurry-up hurry to get out-of-town, and then get back, and let me go on my way with a “Good luck with the wedding! Drive safely!”
Eight hours later, I arrived back in Shaftsbury, Vermont with two beautiful, white peahens from Rhineland Acres, gussied up their crate with some flowers and then left the brides to Jim to act as “father-of”, while I escorted Figaro to his position at the altar.
Friends scrambled to support, fully embracing this event as though it were William & Kate’s nuptials. The dress-code was “Farmyard Flamboyant” and 40 friends & 4 dogs arranged themselves under blue skies in our barn chapel.
My musician consorts provided the string strains of “The Marriage of Figaro” to accompany the brides in their wheel-barrow carriage. Ellen & Melanie also played the recessional music to conclude the ceremony during the bird-seed toss and champagne toast.
Dear friend Megan , also a Justice of the Peace, officiated and read vows in the brides’ & groom’s honor. My only request was that we have the dramatic “If there are any objections…” line, for effect. The pause drew a quick breath from a few parties, fingers crossing that no one would utter a word, and after carefully surveying the crowd, Megan continued to the pronouncement of man and wives. Here is where I emphasize that I could not imagine a more appropriate JOP for this event.
At that point, I allowed Fig to freely walk where he would, unsure if he would notice the two peahens within 3 feet of him or not. Figaro was a proper gentleman/groom for the vows, but he determined to recess during the dreamy strumming and crooning of “At Last” by Kerry & Peter.
Some thought that Fig’s departure was akin to getting the hell out of Dodge.
I prefer to think, rather, that Figaro was in the same trance that we all were in, and at that point in the afternoon, he flew off to pinch himself awake.
He & his lovely brides, (O’) Susannah-1 & (O’) Susannah-2, are spending their honeymoon in Stall No. 1 in the beautiful Wing and a Prayer Farm barn. They dined on a wedding gift of freshly picked watercress & chickpeas(do you get it?) for their first meal together.
From the hand-drawn cards, e-books and banners that our young friends lovingly designed, to the helping hands, the artistic talents, delicious, beautiful treats and generosity from our supportive community, we are grateful to all. Char & Jim, thanks for having my back, always.
“Hope is the thing with feathers…” L’Chaiim!
