When the Brits put on their royal wedding in late April, I don't imagine they had to worry about where to pick up an arbor, or pergola, or how, once purchased, it might be transported to the church. They didn't have to worry about whether to purchase the Cinderella dress with cash, or put it on a credit card, and pay installments til death do us part. They have people.
Well, royals, we in America have people too. They all want to help in some small way with 9-10-11. As the time comes closer, we will need that help to arrange the bagpipe band, the National Guard jet flyover, the fireworks, the parade complete with elephants, camels and Shriners driving mini-mini Coopers and whatever else our imaginations can muster.
The first step, though, is to find an arbor to use as a centerpiece. The arbor has to be big enough for the Rev. Delbert to stand in as he performs the ceremony. We had one purchased from a major department store, loaded in the car and driven home to the beach condo only to discover considerable damage to the frame. So we turned around, drove back to town and delivered the arbor back to the store and got our money back.
Then the search resumed. One day, driving home from work on a route I don't normally take, I spotted one in a horse farm's yard. It was just the arbor I was looking for. I was going to knock on the door and ask where it was from but two border collies thought I was going to steal the paint off the side of the house and chased me away. A couple of days later, as I went to a store I normally don't visit to get some grass killer, there was the arbor, only they were calling it a pergola. Teri and I will check it out. It may be "the one." We just have to make sure the Rev. Delbert won't be doing the service from his knees and saying, in pain, "I bloody pronounce you husband and wife."