Roxanne and I were married on Saturday in a tiny ceremony in our backyard, with our immediate families and two formally dressed cats. The third cat slept through it.

The skies parted, the sun came out for a miraculous two-hour window and we were able to tie the knot beneath the now-mature chocolate vines of the arbor Roxanne erected five years ago. You might think we planned it this way.

Then the bride proceeded to her grilling station, as one does.