Newlyweds share tips for memorable wedding day

For many newlyweds that moment of saying I do was preceded by countless dizzy spells and stumbling steps, bouts with butterflies and clashing color schemes, as well as panic attacks over changing checklists and growing guest-lists.
Casey Baum, who married the love of her life, Jeb Baum, at Owen Farm in Ashland City recently took time to reflect on her experience.
"My biggest concern at our wedding was to make sure everyone had a good time," Casey said. "We kept our ceremony as short as possible so that we could spend the majority of the time with our friends and family celebrating the wonderful moment. We also made sure there were plenty of food, drinks and dancing so that everyone would have a memorable time as we became husband and wife."
Casey said she and Jeb wanted everybody to be involved in their wedding as much as possible, but noted that they were fortunate to have family and friends that wanted to just be there and to help out if needed.
"The wedding is for the bride and groom — not anyone else," she said. "So overall, the feeling of the bride and groom need to be considered over everything else."
For Casey and Jeb, the wedding location was a critical consideration, reflecting something moving and personal about the couple.
"We chose Owen Farm because it overlooks the river that we very first met on," she said. "My husband and I have a love of boating, canoeing, fishing and anything else outdoors. The water and the county atmosphere of the beautiful Owen Farms was a reflection of who we are."
Casey believes that personal touches are vital to a moving, memorable wedding ceremony that makes it unique.
"Every single thing we did was personalized," she said. "Our ceremony referenced our love for the water, outdoors and loyalty to one another for the rest of our lives. We displayed black and white photos of our parents at each of their weddings, had my mother's wedding dress as a decorative accent, and had a collage made of baby pictures of Jeb and me."
Sticking to tradition, Casey wanted to ensure that Jeb would not see her in her wedding dress until the ceremony was underway.
"The look on his face when he first saw me in my dress is something I will never forget," she said. "It meant more for me to see that expression at our ceremony with all of our friends and family."
Casey offered several additional pieces of advice for planning a wedding.
"My main tip is to not stress," she said. "At the end of that day, no matter what happens, you will be husband and wife and that is all that should matter."
She also added the importance of not being afraid to ask for help.
When it comes to the bridesmaids and the groomsmen, choose people you hope to have in your life for many years to come.
"To me, the most overlooked part of the wedding is the pictures," she said. "At the end of the day, the decorations get taken down, the cake is eaten, the music is gone, and all you are left with are the pictures that were taken. Our wedding photos mean so much to us because they capture such a wonderful time in our lives."
Also, it's not so much the budget as those helping hands from the heart that will serve to make a memorable wedding event.
"As long as you are smart about what you spend it on, money should not be an issue for your wedding," she said. "This is the biggest day of your life. It is the beginning of your life as husband and wife."

It rained on my wedding day – and I wouldn’t have spent £100,000 to stop it

Phew. Everything’s sorted. All lists ticked off. Done. So you follow the advice and you have an early night and just before you go to bed you check the weather forecast, and you sigh and then you scream as you realise all the planning has been for nought. Because it’s going to rain. Of course it’s going to rain. And the rain will ruin everything. But then your parents call with good news: they have remortgaged their house and spent £100,000 to stop it raining. Everything’s fine. Better than that: everything’s perfect.
There’s no doubt that Oliver’s Travels, the company boasting of an Ariel-like ability to control the weather, is offering a product that some will want. The problem is it’s also reinforcing the idea of the “perfect wedding”. And I of all people should know such an idea is nonsense: my wedding was great, even though my bride’s wedding dress caught fire (didn’t think of that, did you, Alanis?).
Actually, it was great precisely because my bride’s wedding dress caught fire. And because the church hall that housed our reception was a little shabby (albeit lovingly decorated by terrific friends) and because I exposed the price tag on the sole of my new pair of shoes as I knelt before the priest, and because my face was still bleeding from the almost literally cut-throat shave I’d had that morning. And because, yes, it rained.
Of all the things we do, getting married is among the most real. The wording of the Anglican service is unsparing: for every better there’s a worse, for every richer there’s a poorer, for every health there’s a sickness; joy is soon followed by sorrow, love by death. It’s not the stuff of soapy romance. And yet, your wedding day is invariably sold as flawless, bright, shiny and perfect. Utterly unreal and unlike the life on which you’re about to embark. Yes, there will be fun and excitement, but your boiler will break down, your chimney will need repointing, your cavity wall insulation will need replacing. No wonder divorce rates are risingif marriage is marketed as a fairytale.
Besides, there’s enough scope for nuptial control-freakery as it is without bringing the weather into it. It might be preferable if couples actually had fewer options, fewer details, less to customise, less to get tone-perfect. Then they’d be able to focus on the only things that matter, which are a) that they both turn up, b) that someone turns up to officiate, and c) that some people turn up to watch. (If you have £100,000 to spare, don’t spend it on meteorological manipulation like you think you’re Jesus. Spend it on food and drink for everyone. That’s pretty much all your guests will want, and frankly, they deserve it.)
If you’re lucky, your wedding won’t go according to plan. If you’re lucky, it won’t be the day you’ve always dreamed of. If you’re lucky, it’ll look nothing like it does in the brochures, nothing like it does in any film you’ve seen or any book you’ve read, nothing like any fairytale (although a wedding that looked like Rumpelstiltskin would be quite something). Flawed masterpieces are the best sort: give me the Beatles’ White Album over the Beatles’ blue album any day.
My wife’s wedding dress, once pristine and brilliant, hangs singed and sooted (blame the cake). It was beautiful, and it’s now even more beautiful, but it’s only a dress. All that really mattered was that my wife was unharmed: the swift actions of a friend saved us from having to spend our wedding night in our local burns unit. So may your wedding day be gloriously imperfect. May the sun shine, yes. But may it rain, too.