Ah, family weddings. My niece got married yesterday, at a farm-venue, and there were doves released from the dovecote when they were pronounced legally bonded. Beyond the rose garden, a meadow with deer — deer within a fence, and children were picking apples from the beautifully espaliered apple trees and throwing them to the deer, until one of my nieces (she's 12) shouted: "You shouldn't be picking those apples!" And everyone was ooing and ahhhing over these lovely, lovely delicate creatures, the fawns very Bambiesque, some with tiny sharp prongs of baby-antlers beginning to emerge. When they startled, they'd do that upward leap-thing, all very elegant. And I recalled that my sister said that this was a working farm, not just a wedding venue, and, well, all I could think of was venison. These weren't deer, they were venison.
So much for the cute factor.
But here's my little sis and moi, with a backdrop of empty Rainier Beer cans.