It was warm under the kurta, waiting by the road under a tree for the groom to arrive at the temple. Many people - most looking similarly unaccustomed to their colourful Indian dress - lingered with me.

Then, with a percussive racket and a beautiful voice the dholi began drumming and the throb of the MG roadster's 1960s engine joined the air. Alex, saddled with his nephew beside him, rolled into the temple carpark accompanied by dancing and cheering.

After disembarking, more dancing, cheering and clapping continued in spurts as the westerners struggled to identify the natural stopping point for this ritual known as a baraat. The dholi, his round face dripping with sweat behind his tinted shades, offered little guidance for us. Every time things felt like they were wrapping up, another blast echoed from the double-sided drum and his lilting voice spurred another round of leaping and clapping.

I wore the right shoes this time, and proceeded to immediately remove them so I could enter the temple.

The Pink Canopy
There is no altar in the temple for the couple to stand at. Unlike a western wedding, the ceremony takes place on a small stage featuring two seats as well as the other items required to form the union.

Where western and Indian weddings deviate, based on my one experience, is that a lot more of the ceremony is obscured by a pink curtain. Whether this is because western weddings are more showy, or Hindu ceremonies are intended to be more intimate for the bride and groom, I don't know.

Fortunately, as a scarf-adorned member of the groom's family, I had a prime seat in the front row. So I could see most of it.

An auspicious everything
The celebrant spoke us through some of the stages of the ceremony, between words and chants in Hindi.

The word "auspicious" was used a lot, and I liked the way he said it.

Hands were placed into hands symbolically. Water was used to bless various parties. Oh yes, and early during all of this the bride came in through the front doors.

I knew that red is the traditional bridal colour in a Hindu ceremony, so it was not unexpected to see the bride arrive in red, but it was certainly a visually jarring sight and the dress and red, silk canopy held above her head.

Seven Rings Around The Fire Spirit
As the ceremony progressed, there came a point where they needed to walk around the fire pit seven times, in the ritual of Saptapadi. This was not a symbolic fire, but an actual fire burning in something I would describe somewhere between a "brazier" and an aluminium foil tray.

There were a few glances at the ceiling to check for smoke alarms, which around the seventh circuit of the flame, began to beep with perfect, comedic timing.

The smoke alarm apparently means the fire spirit is happy. They opened a door to let the smoke out and the ceremony continued.

Vanessa gets involved
As the brother of the groom, I did not get to be involved in the ceremony beyond waving a hand and clapping enthusiastically during the baraat. Vanessa, however, as the closest thing Alex has to a sister got to be involved several times, including tying the scarves together to help seal the bond.

More Food
With the formalities complete, the most important part of the weekend was technically complete. And it was now time for more food. There were samosas, onion bhaji, green chili cornbread (it probably has a Hindi name and might have been made with chickpea flour) and several delicious sweets. I didn't take photos because I didn't want to look like I was gawping at a long and historied culture, but they looked like yellow, plastic hot dogs like Nash squeaks around, except with a little bit of heavy, sweet fluid inside them and obviously not made of plastic. I had a few of those.

40 Minute Nap
Due to Alex's good planning, the ceremony and reception were perfectly positioned on either side of my house. Based on my calculations this meant I could have a forty minute nap in bed before re-donning the Kurta and joining in the evening festivities.

It was a good nap.

Arriving at the venue
Okay, so maybe my calculations were a bit generous towards napping as when we arrived at the reception I found most people already arrived, a long line for the bar and a long line for the food. Fortunately, the Bride and Groom and the Dholi hadn't arrived yet. So I was able to load up my plate with chicken and pastries, find my table, and then witness the newlyweds entrance to more drumming.

The arrival of the newly weds was lively, as they walked down the centre of two long rows of tables packed with well wishers. The Dholi commanded various groups of family members onto the dance floor to keep the arrival going. I was up there for a minute, stomach full of chicken and yellow hot dog things rumbling under the kurta.

Eventually things settled down and there were some speeches, including a PowerPoint.
It was during this part of the evening that I learned what I'd just eaten wasn't dinner, but just the entrée.

The Bollywood dance
There was a secret dance planned for the wedding that I was going to be a part of. It was a medley of six or seven pieces mainly performed by the bride and bridesmaids, with a little number done by the Mother and Father of the Bride, before a final group dance featuring many close friends and family. I was up the back, left corner and made it there just in time to start my moves.

The girls had more dances to remember than I had steps.

We'd had two formal practice sessions plus some living room dancing to get ready for this, and - until video disproves it - I believe I hit all the steps. This was particularly impressive due to my lack of coordination and the tight embrace of my kurta. (The Indian tailors did not believe the measurements they were given, and I couldn't lift my arms above my head).

Dinner
I was relieved to nail my part in the dance and escape from the pyrotechnics that were positioned behind me without catching fire and dying an ironic death from fireworks, tonight.

From this point the DJs took over and the dance floor really revved up. The beats were pounding and the dance floor filled quickly. I used this time to sit and talk to friends and family, try to help with the bar staff, and generally soak it all in.

Dinner was then served, and I realised I probably could fit in a bunch of butter chicken, lentils, naan and a couple more sweet pastry balls for the road.

Surprisingly, after dinner the dancing and music did not continue late into the night. It seemed everyone was feeling that tonight was part three of a much longer weekend. With dinner done, and a few rounds of farewells and photos, it was back home and to bed for a very pleasant sleep.

The wedding weekend rest day began with a walk around West Lakes with Nash, and breakfast overlooking the lake under a tree.

Nash went for several paddles, and then got a bath on the way back.

We did some food shopping, then in the evening Steve came over for a BBQ and I spent a couple of hours child proofing his child's laptop.

It was a mistake to add 65,000 lines to the hosts file and then flush the DNS, and that wasted an hour of my life.

Eventually I set up some new DNS Server IPs for his home WIFI, while on my WIFI, and hopefully that will keep my nephew from being turned away from heaven.

Also, my passionfruit bruise preventor finally worked once.

Nash enjoyed having humans at home on Saturday night, and she enjoyed her Sunday stroll and traditional sausage roll through North Adelaide as well.

This is why I am completely open and non-judgemental of all cultures and customs. Every Sunday I take my dog to a bakery for a pastry.

I am NOT comparing this to a wedding. Although I do think Nash would enjoy sweet pastry balls.

After the walk there was even some time for a new version of Fireworks Tonight with time based Seasonal Theming, which was necessary because the Lunar New Year theme was still in place. I added some dates to themes and now they apply and disappear automatically, and I even set up the Christmas theme for December so I don't have to make any changes between now and then if I don't want to.

After that there was even time for a workout and some deadlifts, to ideally build some hunger for more food in the evening. Following salad for lunch I dressed in my suit, with vest along with the tartan tie and initial cufflinks that Alex had gifted me.

Tartan Fam

The Hills
It was a nice, sunny afternoon for the drive into the hills, past Mount Barker and along the country roads to Lot 100. Alex had given me a role to coordinate the starting of the music with the readiness of the bridesmaids. While everyone waited at the altar under an extremely long sunset.

Eventually the bridesmaids had their path to the aisle defined and I got the music started. Then I had a seat up the front for what was a beautiful ceremony, with heartfelt vows exchanged in front of a warmly lit backdrop of green hills and trees. Alex's vows were particular heartfelt and well spoken. Then there were kisses, a showering of petals from the crowd, applause and drinks.

The gap between the ceremony and the reception was spent by everyone trying to take a good photo in the evening light. It was quite strong still, but many good family shots were captured along with Mismatch beers.

Reception
Steve and I had MC duties, but no microphone, so we sorted that out and after everyone was seated and sampling their Antipasti we stood up and got through the housekeeping, the introduction (with more drums and boogieing) and brotherly speeches by both me and the bride's brother.

The audio situation was a little challenging, with a lot of low end and not great audio. Alex said he enjoyed my speech, which was good. Dad said he couldn't hear it. For future reference it is in the Keep note "Alex Wedding Speech".

Dinner followed, with generous servings of lamb, chicken, and barramundi served out across the long tables. This long stretch of night was very pleasant, talking to family and Alex's friends and enjoying the vibe of love, happiness and supper.

Before dessert there were more speeches from the bridal party. After the bridesmaids, all of Alex's five groomsmen delivered a summary of their favourite Alex memory and it was a privilege to be party to these insights into what a nice young man he has become. From always being there for his friend going through a newborn during covid, to holding his friend by the back of his belt so he could take a leak off the rear of a moving golfcart.

This time the loud music and dancing came after the speeches, and a solid dance floor for a Sunday night took place. Punjabi MC and Gasolina got a reprise. I did get low once, and otherwise had a good time. Shirt now untucked, sleeves rolled up, the boogie went on for a while. Then, around 11:05, we all lined up on either side of a path out the door with long sparklers and created a tunnel to send the married couple on their way for a second time.

After that it was just a long drive home down the freeway, through some tunnel construction work, to arrive just a minute after midnight. Only one more wedding to come.

Nash took us for a walk around the neighbourhood, then we settled down for some oat flour and banana waffle bowls for breakfast.

I had to work in the morning, and made a surprising amount of progress on some automation development - partly powered by a taken home cupcake from the evening before. Then it was time for the final wedding of the weekend. Jarrad - who I hadn't even seen for two years (Fringe, 2022). Jarrad and his fiancé are both living lives of music and art as they approach their forties, so I expected that their wedding was not going to be traditional. That said I did not wear my Kurta.

Around 3:30pm we took the tram into town and walked in The Garden of Unearthly Delights, which was very sunny and empty, which made it easy to identify the other wedding goers. Everyone was mingling in front of the red Spiegeltent, and like the ceremony on Friday there was a lot of colourful outfits but at least one more sailor costume.

Like a Fringe show, the doors opened and we were ushered in to find a seat. Like a Fringe show, the chairs were not super comfortable. Unlike a Fringe show I was handed a glass of champagne, and had the option of some free pickles.

The ceremony was scheduled for 4:30pm. As that time came and went the suspense started to build, but eventually to loud cheers from the surrounding crowd we got our first glimpse of Jarrad and then an even more theatrical entrance from the bride.

It was a real wedding, however, so there was the standard playbook of ceremonial events although with a little more crowd interaction and whooping. And during this were the contrasting yet equally beautiful vows as compared to yesterday.

After the ceremony I tried my first "Pickleback" (whiskey shot with pickle juice chaser). That explains the large pickle platters from before the ceremony. Then we hung out in the artists bar for a while, ate some tacos and a pork bao, before eventually returning to inside the tent which was now sans-uncomfortable chairs and more of a dancefloor.

There were a few short speeches from the family, but then in place of bridesmaid and groomsmen speeches like Sunday we instead got a live show. Satan's Cheerleaders played a couple of songs, earning them their second mention on this website. Shaolin Afronauts then followed up with a longer groove session of afrobeat and dancing. Jarrad moved from the drums to the bongos.

After the music, the bride's side put on a collection of cabaret bits. Starting with a small girl in big heels singing absolutely beautiful opera while simultaneously performing puppetry with paper butterflies and a big folding fan that she used to keep them fluttering above her.

Then things took a darker turn, and a lady walked out to play with fire, eat it, and then breath it with the help of a very muscular man wearing a leather vest over his tanned upper body.

I have written these long entries about this wedding weekend because I wanted to remember the things I saw and how I felt. Already I feel like the chaos of Frantic February is fading into the ether. By the end of this five day weekend of weddings I felt inspired by the back to back exhibitions of beauty. I've witnessed so much love, in all sorts of ways. Romance, family, friendship. Listened to touching speeches. I've been enveloped in so much colour and happiness. It really was a human experience, leaving me quite exhausted but also very happy to have been there. Even Nash has enjoyed the weekend. Every night alone has been balanced out by a long morning walk along the river, or a lake, or up the hill to Prospect. She too will be content that it's over.

That all said, the last thing I saw on Monday night I will not describe because I do not think I will ever forget it. And if I do, I will just search for the number one single by "Hot Butter" from 1969 and I am confident everything will come flooding back.

I left the tent shortly after that. More music was starting up, but the time had come to call it a day and prepare for another week of software delivery, rehab, shaving, dentist appointments and dog walks. As that continues indefinitely, these entries will hopefully help engrave in my brain some of the happiness that came from the last month.

It was a pleasant, sunny morning on February 29th and I told my wife that I love Autumn weather. And then that night at the Haldi, while we were sitting outside, it got pretty chilly and as we got in the car to drive home I told my wife that I hate Autumn weather. This is the kind of quality japing that goes on as you NEAR FORTY as well as twelve years of marriage.

Anyway, March has been around longer than that and it's been a minute since we had a nice go fuck yourself heatwave and what better time to endure one than over the long weekend.

Friday was hot too. I had to interview someone for work and after turning up in shorts and offering a very professional, "How's it going, bud?" I got through that at an outdoor table thanks to an iced latte.

A visit to Gluttony with old work people for beers and a stand up show was good while in the shade.

At least in March there is a looming equinox and due to the quirks of daylight saving the sun doesn't even rise until after 7am. So it's possible to get out and about while the temperatures are still only in the mid to high 20's.

On Saturday morning that meant making it about halfway to the central markets on our bikes before the heatstroke kicked in.

Fortunately the central markets has a lot of food in it, and is therefore kept at refrigerator temperatures. We loaded up with salads and fruits and rode home in the shade.

The rest of the day was spent as indoors as possible, preferably on the lower level of the house. There was an unexpected, very welcome burst of rain around 5pm. Just like the cold taps in my house, it was warm water coming from the sky.

After dinner we went to the beach where it was much cooler and much prettier. There was a double rainbow for twenty minutes while the sun set. Then it got warmer again on the way home.

I took quite a few photos of the double rainbow.

On Sunday morning we got up even earlier to try and get a walk to the bakery done with Nash before the heat hit.

This went very well, and we were home again by about 8:30 with no ill effects from the heat. Or so I thought, until the milk I poured into my smoothie jug came out with the consistency of unstirred gravy.

I scooped that sludge out with a spoon and then finished off the ingredients, adding four of the hundred passionfruits that have dropped off the vine over the past weeks.

There was nothing to it but waiting until the evening and returning to the beach for more swimming, and then driving back home for more sweating.

By Monday I was exhausted just from the effort of staying cool, and constantly trying to extract heat from the upstairs through the use of the bathroom extractor fans.

It was too hot to even bother going to the beach again. We just walked in the morning and the evening around the neighbourhood, and waited for Tuesday to return to the office and its industrial strength air conditioning.

I did keep myself cool developing a tag adding and tag filtering component to my latest Sveltekit project.

This morning I woke up early and rode my bike to town for work. It was still hot.

My night time routine is pretty solid these years. Stretches, clean my teeth with Sensodyne, toilet the dog, and then climb into bed while arranging all the pillows between my knees and other joints before adjusting the mattress firmness for my back.

I've contemplated adding some private journaling into that routine. A few minutes to capture the inputs and outputs of my day without any pressure to make jokes or Lightroom my photos. It would be a great way to solidify lessons learned, as well as inscribe some memories of days I hope to one day look back on fondly.

What prevents me from ever doing this is knowing that nearly every night I will be describing pain. Like, if today was an example, it would have gone: woke up, knee was sore. Walked the dog, then making breakfast fucked off my wrist. That's been giving me sharp pain all day, except for when I sit too long and the ache in my hamstring sometimes takes precedence. I spent most of the day writing abstract RAML type definitions and then implementing them in a second library so that they could be imported into consumer API specifications in an extendible way. After work it was cool enough to go outside without melting so I mowed the lawn and like clockwork my dog was dropping a turd on it by the time the grass catcher was back in the shed.

I accepted many years ago that I was never going to get back to a pain free baseline, and until I implant my consciousness into a shitty claw machine attached to a hoverboard that I am going to be living with pain, not tucking my shirt in, and I may never sit on a sofa again.

But there is living with pain, and there is LIVING, with pain. I am choosing the latter and while it is not June, 2008 the principle does bring me some mental stability. Which, in part, comes from physical stability. Rehab and mobility exercises would also be on my daily journals, 2-3 times a day. They don't make me invincible, but I hope that by doing them I make little tweaks like today hopefully just little. They make the bad days okay, and the really bad days just bad. I think this helps me do more living than pain.

I guess it does help knowing that if I ever get truly over it I can sell everything and go hang out in Paris for a while. I might be living with pain, but I will be LIVING. And by that I mean, spending time under trees not moving.

Today was almost a quintessential South Australian day. Here's an itinerary so you can relive it.

Get In - We're Going for a Trip

The morning started with a free ride on Adelaide's tram. Destination: a stroll along the magnificent boulevard of North Terrace (for about 50 metres) and then a visit to the Adelaide Central Market. There I bumped into people I knew, and enjoyed a large, strong coffee before loading up a backpack with fresh, cheap fruit and vegetables.

After another free tram ride and some Foodland yoghurt and locally grown passionfruit for morning tea, it was time to get stuck in South Road traffic. Then there was lunch at one of Adelaide's iconic Vietnamese takeaway restaurants for a Bún Bowl.

After lunch and some more weekend traffic it was time for another Fringe show as part of the fabric of the end of summertime festivities. I've been to a few shows this year, today's was the Sleep's Hill tunnel, an audio visual display of colour and mushrooms in an old, disused railway tunnel south of the city.

Me in a tunnel.

Following the Fringe, and more South Road traffic, it was time to take a road trip down to the south coast. There, after even more South Road traffic I enjoyed a dinner spread by one of Adelaide's spectacular beaches. The day ended with a sunset walk overlooking the cliffs of Aldinga, before dealing with road works on the expressway on the drive home, and then more South Road traffic.

Not pictured - traffic.

It was also good to see two lots of extended family, two lots of old friends and families, and two dogs.

My lips are cracking already. Tonight's sunset was exactly 12 hours after sunrise. Luckily my heated gloves just arrived. I am ready to try winter again.

In the final week of Spring I was putting the finishing touches into the musical playlist that I intended to embed memories of the past months in. Spring 2023 had been pleasant, as best as I can recall it now. The fading glow of Giunio 23 had carried me through Winter. My work/life balance was correcting itself. My body parts were coming together with enough cohesion that I was even able to complete a mini, late-30s equivalent of Bulktember. A more age appropriate approach. Rehab repetitions prioritised over moving weight. Balancing pain signals with progression. I suffered only moderate lower back pain.

By the end of November, despite a recurrence of my dodgy, left shoulder I was moving well, energised by technology and the future. There was bacon in the Barossa, panini on lunch breaks, lamb roasts in the slow cooker, burgers before basketball games. Lots of coffee. Flowers were blooming, the outdoors was calling, and by mid November my index finger had some blood back in it.

Life was not perfect, but I was enjoying it. It felt like, as spring turned to summer around me that in my life too would bloom into sunshine and blue skies and a semblance of control.

Alas, storm clouds approached, as spring will do. Literally, initially, as late November rain pummelled the house and got into the gym literally hours before we were to set off on a cross country road trip.

December from start to finish was problematic. The road trip that was supposed to be a break was plagued by injury, weather, snakes (actually those were cool) and actual plague. Driving long distances in the rain just to isolate in cheap motel rooms was not fun. It was becoming apparent that my wrist injury was not minor, and the Napoleon movie totally lacked historical accuracy and nuance. In fact, I was craving a return to home life and work routine by the end, knowing fate would choose that moment to at least clear out my sinuses. We returned to a mouldy, ruined gym, more rain, a sad puppy and a whole train of minor inconveniences. The final two work weeks of the year did bring some sense of normality back, and then I got covid and missed out on Christmas. By the time it was 2024 I was exhausted. And I'd felt comfortable enough with where my feelings were to share my Spring playlist that just served to remind me of happier times.

Time never stops though. And through all of this, and the continued wrist pain, insurance drama, back pain, life stress, and shoulder pain it did feel like I've done this all before. It did feel that all I had to do was keep getting through work days, keep doing rehab morning, lunchtime and night, keep going to the beach at the end of hot days, keep making phone calls, keep taking the dog for a walk and mowing the lawn after limbering up that things wouldn't necessarily get better, but they might average out. I listened to the Spring playlist a lot, and of course new music and so I added to it already aware that I was now making a Spring/Summer double album playlist. In some ways it made sense, under the influence of the narrative fallacy: Spring was a rise and fall, summer would be a fall and rise. The perfect sine wave. With gym repairs scheduled and two weddings at the end of February to look forward to it seemed appropriate that by the end of summer I'd feel balanced and I'd have a second collection of songs.

Well, it worked to an extent. My wrist still hurts most days but not that much. I have no idea if the next storm will flood some part of my house. Jobs still cause stress. But I have a Spring/Summer playlist. And I know that I will listen to it for years to come sometimes when things are going bad and sometimes when things are going well and sometimes when some things are bad and other things are good. This is life. I am accepting it. Because I can't change it. Seasons will continue to come one by one and I'll relish posting a mixtape for each one for as long as I can.

Memories of:
Driving down South Road in sunshine. Lifting light weights in the gym. Driving to a bonfire. Books about Mars, and Nipples. Taking coffee breaks in the backyard on WFH mornings. Being in the groove in front of VS Studio while looking out over the Adelaide hills. More hours on my back on the rubber mats on the floor. Long stretches of country roads. FLOWERS BLOOMING. Feeling sad. Being in the groove in front of CS Studio with the air conditioner on and the curtains drawn. The same walks around Croydon. Memories of Paris. Passionfruit. Trying to hold a plank.