It was a cold, wintry day in Mifflintown (Mifflintown? Who knew?) in a beautiful, rustic barn. Morghan was dressed in her pressed, white dress, which was designed by herself and made by her father. Ben was eagerly waiting to wed his beautiful and vibrant bride in a ceremony which was officiated by her father. Yep, her dad made her dress. Yep, her dad walked her down the aisle. Yep, her dad officiated the ceremony of his eldest daughter. It was a sincere and tender ceremony. The reception was perfect down to every detail. Handmade bouquets of newspaper flowers. Centerpieces of tall, slender branches adorned with paper ornaments. Antique china dinnerware laying on each table. Bread bowls that had been stacked neatly in old suitcases, waiting patiently to be filled with delicious homemade soups. And the crowd was no snooze. The dancing was non-stop. I saw moves on those barn-wood beams that I don't think I've ever seen before. It was fun. I hope these images have done it justice. Congrats Morghan and Ben. Cheers to the rest of your lives together!
