I've copied and pasted it below:
Dancing the rain awayBy Larry Bingham, The Oregonian
September 22, 2009, 4:10PM
On the Saturday of Maria and Greg Dempsey's oldest daughter's wedding -- planned months in advance for the family's Damascus backyard -- the mother and father of the bride awoke to rain. Lots of rain. Drumming rain. The kind of rain that floods gutters.
The ceremony wasn't scheduled until 4 p.m., but the forecast didn't look good.
A wedding in the big yard in the country was daughter Molly's idea. She has fond memories of growing up in the log cabin and playing outdoors -- her dad towing her and her sister on a sled during winter snows, her friends camping out, decorating high school parade floats, romping in a cousin's fort and picking pumpkins from their very own patch.
After Molly, 28 now, moved to Boulder, Colo., for college, and met Chris Lane, 32, and after the relationship grew serious, the couple decided to get married where she grew up. Chris, an attorney in Boulder where they live, had been blown away by its beauty when he visited. Molly, who works in marketing for an eco-friendly purse maker, was proud to show off her home state to 130 guests, 80 percent of whom would be seeing Oregon for the first time.
So plans were made for the Labor Day weekend and invitations sent -- with an Internet RSVP so they'd use less paper. Greg planted wildflower seed and sunflowers as a backdrop for the ceremony and spruced up an already idyllic yard. Molly's aunt made gift jars of jam for guests -- in three-ounce jars so airplane travelers could carry them on -- using blackberries harvested from the yard.
The Dempseys even factored rain into the plan -- this is Oregon, after all. Maria bought umbrellas for the wedding party and rented tents so everyone could dine outdoors on the sports court. She set up smaller tents over the bar and dessert trays on the deck.
But the morning of the wedding, the tents sagged with rain.
By 2 p.m., the sky started to clear. Whether the rain would return was anybody's guess.
At 3:45, a decision had to be made. The couple's dogs were set to play their part as flower girls. The attendants were dressed and ready. Molly and Chris were eager to exchange vows, indoors or out.
Let's do it outside, they decided.
Greg got out the leaf blower and dried the grass. The rented chairs stayed folded because the clouds couldn't be trusted as guests gathered in the flower garden. The mandolin and guitar players began Molly's favorite tune -- "Here Comes the Sun" -- as she walked down the aisle over sprinkled rose petals.
No raindrops fell during the cocktail hour afterward. None pelted the tents during the catered salmon dinner or when the petit fours that served as wedding cake were savored.
The dancing began after dinner. And then as soon as it got dark, around 8:30 p.m., the rain returned. It didn't just sprinkle, either. It poured. Deafening rain. The kind that ends most parties.
Except an unusual thing happened. The disc jockey said he'd never seen anything like it.
One dancer stepped into the rain, then another. Pretty soon, nearly everyone was dancing in the rain. Even the groom in his suit, even the bride in her gown and pearls.
"I would have never thought of rain as the perfect ending to the celebration, but it made it sort of magical," said the mother of the bride. "I will never look at rain in the same way again."
_____________________________
At that, my friends, is our 15 minutes of fame.
One week ago today we returned home to Boulder from our wedding and honeymoon extravaganza. On Monday morning, my first day back in the office I got laid off. Needless to say, the real world is a cold and harsh one. 
