If music be the food of love, play on. [Twelfth Night]

Music, food, and love. Last night delivered everything I'd hoped for and more.
I couldn't be happier with how the party turned out.
The punch, champagne, and wine were delicious and free flowing. The prime rib was garlicky, crisp on the outside and medium-rare on the inside, and gone -- all nine pounds of it! -- by the end of the evening. Guitars and singers and even a stockpot turned steel drum made an appearance later in the night. Most importantly, there was a very hearty helping of laughter sprinkled over everything.
I want to do the night justice -- our families, and how much help we had, and how festive and fantastic everyone looked -- so I'll have to write up something when I'm not nodding off on the couch in sweatpants after eating french fries and leftover spice cake for dinner (I know).
Full-disclosure: I ate four different kinds of cheese for lunch. Leftovers are seriously hazardous to your health.
Flowery posting will return tomorrow. With bells on.