NIECE BETSY TAKES A HUSBAND - Part 1

WITH HER FIRST HELLO...
　
The story is told that Thomas and Betsy were introduced to each other by a mutual acquaintance...or something like that. But that whole "how they met" thing is now water under the bridge, and I really don’t want to bog down my wedding series with too much prefatory material. Suffice it to say that when they finally started "dating" in February of 2009, they hit it off fairly quickly. The only downside was that Betsy was scheduled to leave in July of that year for a 7-month stint of working in an orphanage in Zambia.

So I’m told that Thomas was determined to keep their romance in the shallow end, and not to do anything silly like fall in love and wait around for her to get back. But things do not always go according to plan, do they? And the next thing he knew, he found himself in the deep end of this romance...way in over his head...and she was too of course. And then they were crying like babies when she left on that plane to Africa...and the rest, as they say, is history.

So let’s fast forward to a day in early May 2010, shall we? Otherwise, this wedding series will go on and on like...well, like another wedding series might have done. We were all busy minding our own business down there in Edmond one Saturday. The girls and I had gone down to register Emily for college, and we somehow got the news that there was to be a proposal at a park at such and such time and we were all invited to come celebrate and eat cake, if she said yes, that is. And she did, but I think I already wrote about that whole affair at the time it happened, so if you’re interested you can check that old post. Meanwhile let’s move on, shall we?

The next wedding related business that I got in on was the actual DRESS BUYING. Yes, Emily and I happened to be down in Edmond again, for some reason or other, when they announced that the bride-to-be was headed out to try on dresses and all her female relatives were invited to come along. So it became a party, with about 10 of us traipsing into this fairly small bridal shop, and filling up all their chairs, and clogging up most of their aisles. And everyone had an opinion on everything, of course, so that’s fun. And I tried to be discriminating like everyone else and make helpful comments like "oh, that waist is too high or low or something". But secretly I thought she looked beautiful in every single thing she tried on.

And ultimately the decision had to be Betsy’s anyway. And she finally settled on this lovely one-strapped concoction with 3D flowery things scattered about, and some great shirring through the bodice and waist, and a gorgeous train and floor length sheer veil which I would love to describe for you, but you know I can’t so I won’t even try. So they said they’d take it...and it was such a beautiful moment that even the ching-ching of the credit card machine couldn’t dampen our spirits.

Of course watching the mother-daughter-sisters interaction at such a momentous occasion spurred me on to thinking about the past...and my wedding dress. My mother made it, which sounds very cool but in reality, it was just cheaper that way. She was a master seamstress, but didn’t have much experience in the wedding dress-making business, other than the dress she’d made for Sally, which turned out well. So she found a pattern that I liked and gamely went forward, and I remember being happy with the result, but the truth is I had nothing to compare it with because I never tried on any commercially-made wedding dresses. Looking back, I don’t remember visiting even one single bridal shop prior to my wedding. The bottom line was that I was 29 years old, and I think we were all so relieved I was finally getting married, that no one worried too much about the wedding details, not even me.

Betsy’s dress buying also made me think about the future and helping my own daughters pick out a wedding dress some day. And I look forward to those days, knowing they will be memorable, and probably even enjoyable on many levels. But I can’t help feeling a tiny sense of dread too, knowing that it will foreshadow the closing of another chapter in our lives as mothers and daughters. So there will have to be some more of that crying business, if my sister’s clan is any example of what goes on during wedding planning.

So that was some major digressing from the real story...but you know I can’t help it. Next up, we get invited to Betsy’s personal shower...sort of. And on that note, I better close this first chapter.
For lunch today, I had T&WT, a slice of dutch apple pie (my favorite) made by my husband, and some peach yogurt.
　

LOST AND FOUND

So I’m pretty sure no one is still waiting with bated breath for my Betsy/Thomas wedding series to begin. At least I hope not, because I want it to be like when you lose...let’s say maybe the charger to your camera. And you search high and low for it (literally), and you accuse a lot of people around you of misplacing it, but finally you give up and start taking pictures with your cell phone. And then one day, you decide to clean up your bedroom and open a bag and find that long-lost charger right where you left it weeks ago. And you’re overjoyed, because you never quite adjusted to using your cell phone for a camera anyway. So I’m hoping you will feel that same kind of joy when you finally sign on to this blog and find that the wedding story has begun, because that which you thought was lost to you forever, will have been found.

And on that note, I have a few lines for you from a little poem about lost stuff which I borrowed from Edmund Spenser (who is a real poet):

"For whatsoever from one place doth fall, Is with the tide unto another brought: For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought."

Isn’t that beautiful? And I’m sure its meaning is very deep, but for me I just think of it when I’m looking for something...like a camera charger.

But I don’t want you to think I’m trying to pacify you and regain your affections with just a bit of high-brow poetry...so let me assure you that Part One of the wedding series is basically written, and will be posted here in the next few days. If all goes well.

Meanwhile, I wanted to tell you about the peacoat Dave gave me last year for Christmas. And again, I don’t like to brag, but for a man, this guy is unbelievably thoughtful when it comes to gift-giving. One time he SNUCK my broken string of pearls out of my dresser drawer and had them re-strung for me. On Mother’s Day a few years back, I stepped outside to find pots and pots of geraniums scattered about my front steps. And for my anniversary this past September, he secretly hauled my Honda scooter which hadn’t started for several years to a mechanic and had it repaired. And that may sound like more of a gift for him rather than for me, because yes, I’m over the weight limit for the scooter anyway. But I’m abnormally attached to the thing, because it belonged to my parents, and my mom rode it, and it was part of my "inheritance." Yeah, some people have their mother’s china cabinet or maybe even her wedding dress, but I have my mother’s scooter. And I had been whining about the fact that no one could ride it, and Dave fixed that for me, and it was seriously no small thing.

So you see, Dave really is a prince when it comes to thoughtful gifts. And that’s why I don’t want you to judge him too harshly by what I’m about to tell you regarding the dreaded peacoat. In truth, this gift also SEEMED perfect at the time he gave it to me. I needed a coat and it looked lovely coming out of that box last Christmas morning. But after only a few outings, it began to display its one painfully obvious flaw. It’s black, and therefore it needs the CONSTANT attention of a lint brush.

Now everyone knows that I barely take the time to brush my hair in the mornings, so you can just imagine how much I despise having to take the time to brush my coat too. As such, I don’t brush it nearly enough, and therefore I look even more unkempt than usual, at least on cold days. Lately, I’ve noticed my family and friends picking the lint off me wherever and whenever they so choose, and I’m wondering how many total strangers have been tempted but too shy to do the same.

So this morning when I put on the dreaded coat, I was actually thinking that my only hope was that they really DON’T make things like they used to. Because didn’t people wear their winter coats for years and years back in the those good old days? And I’m not sure I can take years and years with this coat. For once, I hope that whoever crafted this thing embraced the whole modern shoddy workmanship philosophy...so it will literally fall apart at the seams, someday soon, and I can start over. Of course, I won’t be surprised if in a cruel twist of fate, this coat will be prove to be indestructible. I will keep you posted.

I couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate my return to the blogging fold than to enjoy a delicious lunch of tuna and wheat thins today. For dessert, I had a piece of warm-from-the-oven cherry pie, made by my husband who has inexplicably become a pie-baking machine lately. But that story will have to wait for another day.

THE SLIPPERY SLOPE

This blog is officially over a year old now. I would like to celebrate my big First Anniversary by offering my followers a 10% discount on something. But I’m not sure what.

I figured out I’d been at this a year when I was describing the free things we pick up at the State Fair and it all started sounding vaguely familiar. Sure enough, I wrote about this annual family event back in September of ‘09. So now I’m a little worried that every future post will read like a bad sequel...with the same predictable characters, jaded locales, tired plots. And it may be a slippery slope from there to posts that read like cheap dime-store novels and People magazine articles. I apologize up front if that happens.

So yes, a couple of weekends ago, 18 of those same old family members put in another appearance at the fair. Actually, we did have one new face because Emily met us there with a new friend from college named Jordan. (I believe the better sequels introduce new and interesting characters to the mix, so we’ll try that approach here.) And Jordan was soon as enthralled as the rest of us with all the cool fair stuff…like the life-size butter sculpture, the seriously oversized watermelons, and the rows and rows of chickens in cages. And who wouldn’t be impressed with how adept my sisters are at finding the free stuff? The rest of us just follow them around like puppy dogs, saying, “Hey, where did you get that toothpick holder?” I’m pretty sure Jordan had a good time with that, because she went along quite willingly with Emily to feign interest in a certain community college so they could score some free chapstick.

One new fair event surfaced this year. After enjoying a tasty lunch of homemade Bierocks, apple dumplings, and hot beef sandwiches, we eagerly made our way over to see the “Wild About Monkeys” show. That’s when we discovered this was a hot ticket because all of the bleachers were filled. Not to worry. There was plenty of seating on the grass in front of the stage, and even though a lot of us are too old to be sitting cross-legged on the ground, we weren’t about to pass up a free monkey show. So we sat down to wait.

And that’s when I discovered how extremely hot it was, especially sitting in the full sun, and that’s when the entire grassy area filled up with masses of humanity so that a person couldn’t escape even if he or she wanted to. And that’s when my 3-year-old nephew started slinging a Styrofoam cup around and into a few strangers’ faces. And I think that was the moment when I began to feel HOT AND TRAPPED. But I didn’t complain too much, because naturally I was trying not to embarrass Emily in front of her new friend.

Finally, the show began. And as monkey shows go, it was fairly entertaining…with your usual monkey shenanigans and tricks. But the best part was actually when a bird flew out into the audience and got a dollar bill from a lady and then returned it. I’m guessing the bird’s agent was asleep on the job, or the show would have been billed “Wild about Monkeys AND a Bird”.

If you’ve read my “illustrated” blog on the OC website, you may be wondering why I don’t post pictures on this blog as well. But do you look for illustrations when you read Jane Austen? Or Fyodor Dostoyevsky? I think not. Obviously, this is my “thinking” man’s blog, and that other one is my commercial sell out. Not that they’re paying me, but you know what I mean.

So I was going to do a quick family update…but it’s too late for that. So I’ll think about that tomorrow. The wedding series is still progressing in outline form, but is not quite ready for publication. I haven’t had lunch yet today, but hope to enjoy a nice Gala apple, and some tuna and Wheat Thins when the time comes. Good night!

SO MANY BLOGS, SO LITTLE TIME

Lest you think I have forgotten my first love, or blog, if you will, let me assure you I am not abandoning this ship. But you must understand that I’m still in the honeymoon stage with the OC blog...so I might possibly be dedicating a bit more time and energy over there at the moment.

This business of maintaining two blogs may look glamorous, but let me assure you, it has its dark side. It’s not just the physical demands of writing post after post after post, but there’s a good deal of mental and emotional strain to bear as well. If I write in one, I feel guilty for ignoring the other. I want to be devoted and loyal to both, but there’s only so much of me to go around. This is how I know I could never be a bigamist, or even one of those two-timing wives. The truth is, I can barely keep up with more than one Bingo card at our New Year’s Eve parties, so you can imagine how juggling two blogs is getting to me.

Nevertheless, I am pressing on. I have a rough outline of the Betsy/Thomas wedding posts nearly finished. I even have a working title. How does "NIECE BETSY TAKES A HUSBAND" sound to you? Maybe it’s a bit one-sided, but if Thomas wants more press, he might have to recruit a blogger from his side of the family. Unfortunately, I didn’t even MEET half of his groomsmen, so "that one guy" might be an oft-used phrase in the wedding posts.

But today, I just have a few family notes for you on everyone but Emily, who will of course be dealt with in that "other" blog.

So we’ll start here with Rachel, and I have BIG NEWS about her. She has finally found...and SECURED...her Prince Charming. If you recall, she is dancing the part of Cinderella in the ballet in December, and we were feeling somewhat desperate about her chances of finding a high school boy who was (a) prince-like, (b) willing to dance in a ballet, AND (c) able to bench-press quite a few pounds. But just when we were thinking such a boy did not exist, along came Christian. After the first practice, it was apparent he was our guy because as one of Rachel’s friends put it, "When he picked Rachel up, his face didn’t even turn red!"

In other Rachel news, she continues to act as my personal trainer on a somewhat sporadic basis...basically whenever the mood strikes her. She told me one day that I could burn 100 calories just by drinking a glass of ice water. I told her that couldn’t be true because I drink lots of ice water and don’t lose weight. She just gave me a contemptuous smile. And I use that word only because I recently read this book in which everyone and everything was contemptuous at one time or another. Even a lady’s SHOES are described as contemptuous in one passage. So I thought I’d try it out in my writing.

On to David. Earlier this week, he got his phone taken away by a teacher at school. He was outside the school building walking to his next class, but apparently he still wasn’t supposed to be texting. And I guess it’s no big deal, because when I went to the office to retrieve the phone, they didn’t set me down and tell me I was a bad parent or he was a bad kid or anything. What bothers me is that now there’s a "behavior incident" on his school record, and it’s coded as a CONTRABAND infraction. Last year when Emily forgot her ID badge at school, her behavior incident was recorded as a DRESS CODE infraction. So now the entire school system probably thinks my son is a druggie and my daughter is a skank. And I don’t know how to fight this kind of thing.

Dave is busy training for a triathlon...and stressing over the details. His biggest struggle was in deciding if he needed a wet suit and he kept going to the website and reading posts to me about water temperatures. I didn’t beg him to stop, but I wanted to. He finally ordered a new Speedo swimsuit and we are all hoping it won’t be too revealing.

As for me, I had an interesting dream several weeks ago, where someone (I don’t remember who) was showing me a live, white owl they kept in their freezer. I wanted to tell you about this dream when it happened, but I was in the middle of my wedding series, and didn’t know how to fit it in.

Even my mother would be sick of hearing this by now, because yes, I had tuna and Wheat Thins for lunch again today. Does it help that for dessert, I had some chocolate zucchini bread made by a lady in my office? I hope so.

A NEW ACTION PLAN

I’m free. Free at last. Not that I would ever call my commitment to the wedding series anything like an ALBATROSS. No. I would never do that. But it did require some actual THINKING, and I must admit that I’m happy to go back to my rambling, stream-of-consciousness writing style.

But first, I do have one final post-script on the wedding. I received a lovely thank you note from the HC the other day, and while I found it slightly odd that no mention was made of the wedding series, I couldn’t fault the note in any other way. In fact, it was clearly a cut above your average run-of-the-mill thank you note, being not only extremely thoughtful but also rather lengthy. But while this was all BEYOND sweet, I was troubled by one simple fact. This note was obviously penned by Ben himself. Which started me thinking of course. I mean if he’s got enough time to write notes like this, then chances are he’s not dedicating himself to the study of the causes and treatment of hives. As such, I have decided I better not wait for him to finish med school, and have developed a new two-step action plan for my health care.

First, I am going to get on-line and offer my body to science. I’ve heard that you can volunteer for studies and since I find my case fascinating, I’m pretty sure research scientists will too. If possible, I will try to join a study where the subjects get paid. That way, if they don’t find out what my problem is and how to fix it, then at least it won’t be a complete waste of my time.

And second, I am going to break down and purchase one of those pill organizer things.

I will try to get a family update posted soon, but our biggest news is of course about the emigration of Emily to the far country of Oklahoma. As most of you know, we dropped her off at OC on August 21st and came home to a decidedly emptier house. I miss the little tyke, but she’s happy so I can’t wish her back. If you are a true glutton for punishment, you can read much more about the whole Emily-in-college thing on the parent blog I’m doing for OC. The address is www.blogs.oc.edu/shelley for the diehards among you.

I had two delicious homemade tamales for lunch today, which I bought from a lady who came by our office selling them.

ANATOMY OF A WEDDING - Part 12 of 12 (WHEW!)

The Dance and A Conclusion

WILL THEY OR WON’T THEY?: I believe there was some concern about whether or not anyone would actually USE the dance floor at the wedding...besides Ben and Courtney who were going to do a "first dance", and all those little kids who couldn’t seem to stop running around in circles on it. I don’t know Courtney’s family history with dancing, but I can and will tell you ours.

THE TEEN PREGNANCY ISSUE: My sisters and I did not attend high school dances. Mom didn’t tell us we couldn’t go, but we knew she frowned upon these heathen affairs and so we just said no. After all, everyone knew back then that teenage girls usually got pregnant immediately following a high school dance. Of course my parents were pretty much through with parenting by the time my brothers hit their high school years, so I think they went to as many dances as they wanted. And they didn’t get any girls pregnant so that was good. But they also didn’t bring dancing into vogue within our family. I believe we all still viewed "dancing" as a somewhat shady activity...and one that could possibly lead to all sorts of evil, including the chance of looking stupid in front of your friends. So we just didn’t go there.

DANCE FEVER: But years passed, and the next generation entered the picture. Next thing we knew, my sister Sally was almost forcing her son Zach to go to middle school dances because she thought he was so pathetic sitting at home alone. I think that was the excuse. And my sister Susan followed suit. Soon I had a gaggle of loose-living nephews and nieces attending dance after dance and obviously headed for trouble. But guess what? They all turned out pretty nice after all. Some of them even became...missionaries. True story. Not that they don’t have some bad habits, but I don’t think their tendencies to be bossy and bicker about athletic teams are a direct result of dancing in high school. Nevertheless, this was our first family wedding reception that included a dance floor. And at least one person was heard to say that without any alcohol being served, the dance floor would most likely not be filling up too fast.

DANCING KINGS AND QUEENS: But that person was wrong. True, the dancing started a bit slow but it built to just the right sort of frenzy for a family-oriented wedding reception. Everyone had a good time doing those line dance things where you "slide to the left" and "kick it" and "walk it by yourself" or something like that. And no one did anything even slightly shady...well, unless you count when Luke ACCIDENTALLY backed into someone he shouldn’t have. But these things happen on a crowded dance floor and maybe that’s what my mother was worried about. But the point is, it seemed like good clean fun at the time. And definitely no worse than that Hokey-Pokey number we did at the skating rink when we were kids...with our mom’s full blessing.

PARTING IS SUCH SWEET SORROW: All good things must come to an end...and so it goes with all wedding series blog posts. Ha ha. I’m just kidding. I meant that the actual wedding was the GOOD THING that had to come to an end. So the bouquet was tossed (to my Emily I might add) and the garter was slung (I didn’t register to whom), and the HC were sent off in a shower of sparks from a sparkler-wielding crowd. And I seem to recall even a fireworks display...unless I’m confusing the wedding with our 4th of July outing several weeks later. But I don’t think I am. Because I think my 14-year-old son was one of the lighters of the fireworks and I hope that wasn’t some kind of illegal activity, but it’s a little too late to worry about that now.

LOVE AND A LITTLE BIT MORE: According to the Beatles...or maybe Lynden David Hall...All you Need is Love. I think that song played at some point during the wedding which is why I’m mentioning it here. And while it’s a nice sentiment, it’s not really true of course. In the case of this wedding, in addition to a goodly amount of love, Ben and Courtney needed a truly gorgeous venue, an army of family and friends, and some tasty donuts and snow cones, among other things, to make their special day come together.

DREAM SEQUENCES IN GENERAL: Several winters ago, Luke and Amanda made a car trip to Kansas during which the following three things happened simultaneously:

1. A gentle snow was falling,
2. A Christmas song was playing on the radio, AND
3. They spotted some deer frolicking (their word, not mine) in a field by the side of the road.

Each of the individual elements of this moment was nice, but they called the combination a "dream sequence". Shortly thereafter, as we are wont to do, our family began to not only overuse that phrase, but we also tended to misapply it. I mean it’s nice to find a forgotten toothpick in your purse right after a chips and salsa binge at Ranchito, but I think we can all agree it doesn’t qualify as a Dream Sequence.

DREAM SEQUENCES, SPECIFICALLY: So I hope no one will accuse me of being trite when I say that this particular wedding weekend qualified as being the ultimate in Dream Sequences. Because all the elements certainly combined to make it one. Which is nice because the problem with weddings for people like Ben and Courtney is that there probably won’t be any do-overs. They needed to get it right the first time, and I think they succeeded. And now we just get to wait and see what the future holds for the HC. And which side of the family the future little Hawleys will resemble the most. My bet must be with the Hawley side because they seem to have some dominant features. Courtney probably didn’t think about that when she said yes to Ben. And I for one am glad she didn’t.

So that concludes my tale of one wedding. I truly hope that I am not another Harper Lee. You know she only published the one novel (To Kill a Mockingbird) and the success of it so overwhelmed her that she never wrote another. But I don’t think that will happen to me. No matter how popular my first wedding series happens to be (and I know for a fact that at least 5 people waited anxiously for each installment), I am still committed to giving you the story of the Betsy/Thomas nuptials.

But for now, I must take a short break from weddings in general and give you some family news. So looking ahead, here are the titles of some of my next few blog posts which have been preempted by the wedding series:

1. My Jumbo-Sized Summer Vacation
2. The Wreck of the Jeep Liberty
3. The Pumpkin-Whisperer (revisited)
4. A More Efficient Way to Read a Classic, like The Fountainhead

If those titles don’t bring you back for more, I don’t know what will.

We were invited to a fish fry for lunch today...and not only was the fish PERFECT in every way, but the side dishes brought by the other guests were scrumptious as well. I made that lovely sweet coleslaw with whipping cream, but first I had to call around to get the recipe because my Haven Cookbook has gone MISSING. I don’t cook much so I tend to misplace recipes now and again. But I think this might be the first time I’ve lost a whole cookbook. To make matters worse, after the fish fry I went to pick up my dish, and it had turned up missing too. I’m sure the missing cookbook has nothing to do with the missing coleslaw, but it’s disturbing all the same. Because I was looking forwarding to eating the leftover slaw.

ANATOMY OF A WEDDING - Part 11 of 12

The Reception

LET THE PARTY BEGIN: As mentioned before, the reception was in Courtney’s backyard, so we all just moseyed on back there after the ceremony. It would have been slightly more convenient if Brent and Kim (parents of the bride) had installed RV hookups in that pasture west of their house...and then we all could have brought our pop-ups and trailers and suchlike and we wouldn’t have had to leave the grounds the entire wedding weekend. But no one can be expected to think of everything. Anyway, the point is that no one got lost getting to the reception. And that’s always a positive.

THE SIMPLE LIFE: I don’t think I told you this before, but Courtney spent 7 months of her engagement to Ben in Zambia, Africa, working with Ben’s sister (and my niece) Meagan at an orphanage. She came back determined to have a "simple" wedding, without a lot of fuss or money thrown into it. I think she accomplished her goal, but without it being obvious to the casual observer. Because again, everything looked elegant and beautiful.

THE ELEMENTS: Of course, it helped that we were still outside. Because shortly after the reception began, the sun set and soon thereafter strings of twinkle lights along the fences lit up the night. Lavender candles and framed pictures of the HC (happy couple) adorned the tables, and clusters of purple and white balloons here and there added a festive touch as well. In the midst of the tables was a portable dance floor, gleaming and ready for action. And the music filling the air was a mix of favorite songs of the HC which had been uploaded to an ipod and plugged into a rather decent sound system.

THE SUGAR FEST: And now we get to the food, glorious food. As alluded to earlier, yes, they served donuts at the wedding reception...along with snow cones. And as if that weren’t enough to send my twin cousins that "have the diabetes" into glucose overload, they also served the more conventional wedding cake. Oh, and then there was the chocolate fountain...with a nice assortment of foodstuffs to dip in said fountain. Like marshmallows and strawberries and other things I can’t remember. Oh I popped over to Facebook to see if my pictures could refresh my memory on this point, but unfortunately I don’t recognize what’s on the plates I photographed. Worrisome, I know, but who really cares at this point anyway? Most of us are now thinking only about what they might be serving Friday night at Thomas and Betsy’s reception.

Oops. I guess I will have to squeeze The Dance into the FINAL INSTALLMENT along with the wrap-up and concluding remarks. It won't be pretty. But it will be finished.

For lunch, I went to the Chinese restaurant with my co-workers. And I didn't overeat which might be a first for me at an all-you-can-eat buffet. My personal trainer will be so proud.

ANATOMY OF A WEDDING - Part 10 of no more than 12

At this point some of you may be thinking...enough already about Ben and Courtney, let’s talk about Thomas and Betsy. And I admit I’ve been tempted to end this train-wreck of first wedding series with a jaunty, "and they lived happily ever after even though it’s only been two months so far." And this would be quite normal for me because I honestly don’t mind quitting in the middle of a project. In fact, one time I started making a list of my unfinished projects...and never finished it of course. But for whatever reason, I feel a deep and abiding commitment to finish this series properly. So here we go again...

THE OFFICIANT: As I mentioned in an earlier installment (but who among you could possibly remember that far back???) Ben’s brother, Zach, was the officiant at the wedding. I think I started this family tradition almost 23 years ago when my brother Bill presided at my wedding. I don’t remember anything he said, but I’m sure it was humorous, insightful and personal, and probably legal to boot. Zach wore a pink shirt and was the candle lighter in my wedding. And although he was only 9 years old at the time, I think he must have learned a thing or two from his old Uncle Bill. Because we all agreed that his remarks at Ben and Courtney’s wedding were positively eloquent. Of course, right now I can only recall a couple of things he said. One was about how Ben liked to wear girls’ clothes when he was younger, and another was about how Courtney liked to hoard food. Oh, and he referred to my sister (his mother) as the Simon Cowell of weddings, which was a slight exaggeration of course. But in the end, the two were joined in holy matrimony. Or as Luke would have said...their water of singleness was turned into the wine of oneness. And it was all good.

THE VOWS: A final note on the ceremony. The vows Ben and Courtney said to each other were the same ones recited by Ben’s paternal grandparents at their wedding many years ago. Those formal and somewhat solemn vows put a beautiful seal on the otherwise lighthearted tone of the wedding ceremony. They were a gentle reminder to us all that this occasion was not about love songs or pretty dresses or flowers, but about the serious and life changing promises being made by two people to each other.

THE RECESSION: Obviously, I am not referring to the economy here. Not only because we’re discussing a wedding, but also because economics confuse me and therefore I will more than likely never blog about that topic. Anyway, of course I’m referring to the receding of the wedding party back down the aisle. The recession song was How Sweet it is to be Loved by You which was a good choice because who doesn’t like James Taylor? Even though his Steamroller song is of course trashy. But no one’s perfect. And besides, the song actually FORESHADOWED one of the reception elements. Yes, folks. You know, towards the end when it says, "It’s like jelly to the donut" (to be loved by you)...well, guess what they served at the reception? Coincidence? I think not.

So now I must close because I am saving The Reception for Part 11...and then The Wrap-Up for Part 12. Following those posts, I will of course be catching you up with the family doings, including the scintillating details of Emily’s departure. Which was a piece of cake. Seriously. I haven’t cried at all...and now I’m wondering if I’m even human. But that post will have to wait.

I had T&WT for lunch today.

MOMMIE DEAREST

Again, I must interrupt the Wedding Series for an unimportant update. Please bear with me.

Emily and Rachel have begun the de-Emily-fication process of their room. Could I put that a more depressing way? Probably not. But that’s what it feels like because they are systematically removing all traces of her from the room. Anyway, they share a lot of clothes so decisions have to be made about what stays with Rachel and what goes with Emily. The first night went surprisingly well. They only argued over who HAD to take clothes that neither of them liked. The next night was less amicable. Rachel was "difficult" according to Emily, and wouldn’t tell her what she wanted. Rachel defended herself by saying she was just sad. I popped in and out of the room trying to defuse the situation by making accusations such as, "Why don’t you ever wear that cute dress?" and "Is there really a tag still on that skirt?"

Last night Rachel picked out the movie we watched off of Emily’s summer movie list. It was Billboard Dad...perhaps the cheesiest Olsen twin movie ever made. And I rolled my eyes but let them play it. Emily suggested Mighty Joe Young instead, but I said I didn’t like movies about gorillas. Then she offered Summer of the Monkeys, and I had to admit I don’t like movies about ANY primates. I hope that doesn’t make me a bad person.

David has started football workouts and thinks that exempts him from doing anything around the house. But he did make me some cotton candy last night.

Dave has brought in so much produce that I have been forced to boycott the kitchen. I feel overwhelmed when I can’t find one inch of counter space.

As for me, it seems that Emily’s college is interested in having me write a parent blog for them. I thought about asking Emily if she minded, but decided against it. Honestly, I don’t know why I’m worried about getting my children’s stamp of approval on what I tell the world. Most of the time, I make a conscious effort to present them in a positive light. But sometimes something they do or say is so funny or strange that I throw caution to the wind and post it even though a tiny amount of public humiliation may follow. This is called collateral damage, and should be perfectly acceptable if the related incident is funny enough, don’t you agree?

But the whole parent blog thing did start me thinking that someday my children might want to sell the sordid story of their upbringing to Lifetime. It will be about a mother who abused her children by blogging about them, revealing all their idiosyncracies for public consumption. Of course Faye Dunaway would be perfect to play me, the evil mother, but is she still alive? If not, they could probably get that frumpy actress who was so deliciously sadistic in that movie with James Caan. I can’t remember her name.

Incidentally, I handled a case one time where one of the parties did such strange things that another party involved thought he might be able to sell the story to Lifetime. He asked me who I would want to play me in the movie and I immediately said Meryl Streep. Wasn’t she the one who delivered the greatest movie line of all time ("A dingo ate my baby") with that strong Australian accent? Who wouldn’t want her? Of course, no dingos would be involved in our movie and she would have to say boring stuff like, "Yes Judge, I’ll prepare that Journal Entry" and "Could you forward that email to me?" so maybe Meryl wouldn’t be interested.

I had the same old, same old for lunch today. Plus a peach off our tree.

ANATOMY OF A WEDDING - Part 9 of I think 12

NOW LET’S SEE...WHERE WAS I?

Oh yeah...

THE TWO-RING-CIRCUS: Don’t you hate that part of a wedding when the beautiful bride is being escorted down the aisle on the arm of her proud father, and the handsome groom is gazing down the aisle watching their approach, and you have to decide which way to look so you won’t miss anything? Okay, I don’t really hate it...but it definitely stresses me. And yes, I have always hated circuses for the same reason. In fact, I hate circuses even more than zoos...but this post is not about that. This post is about a bride and a groom who finally came together to say I do.

HERE COMES THE BRIDE: So...finally...we hear the first strains of Canon in D and Rachel said later those strains were a bit shaky, but no one seemed to notice or care. Because the bride and her dad were making their way down the aisle at last. Now Courtney is a pretty, pretty girl to start off with...but on this evening she looked positively RADIANT, what with that added happiness stuff, not to mention her nice even tan. Her father, Brent, probably looked nice too but seriously I only had time to look at Courtney and then at Ben and then at Courtney and then at Ben and then...well, you get the picture.

THE DRESS: The dress was a modern a-line gown with elegant hand-beaded floral lace details along a breakfront skirt and bodice. Haha. I made that up. I have no idea what style it was. Hmm...but it did seem to have a lot of lace. And at some point shortly before the wedding, I noticed that one of those hanger straps was peeking out from its place INSIDE the dress. And I pointed it out to Courtney...so pretty much I saved the day there. But I hate to toot my own horn, so let’s forge on, shall we?

THE HAND-OFF: One of my nieces informed me recently that John Mayer has some personal issues...and is basically not a nice person. But he sure can sing. And can’t I admire his music...just like you might admire Frank Lloyd Wright’s amazing buildings even though he was a scoundrel? Anyway, the point is I was reminded of that "Daughters" song while Brent was making the hand-off of his little girl to Ben. Because I think Courtney has definitely put the color inside of Ben’s world. If all that whispering they do to each other is any gauge.

Oh my...time does get away from me. I do hate to quit but I need to get home. You must understand that we take Emily to school in 9 short days, and I’m feeling some pressure here. Besides the laundry lessons...which we’ve had to break up into mini-sessions...I’m just remembering that she doesn’t know how to pump gas and I don’t think I’ve ever told her what to do when a funeral procession goes by.

For lunch today, I ate some tiny little crumbs of Wheat Thins with my tuna. Because I didn’t have time to go to the store because I had court this afternoon. See, I do work sometimes.

BACK TO KANSAS...GOOD OLD KANSAS

I'm finally home from my 12-day, 3500 mile, vacation marathon...which means that my blogging hiatus will soon be at an end. But not tonight because I'm tired. I would have blogged on the mondo-vacation but Planner Paul kept us on a tight schedule of activities such as rafting, caving, beachcombing, sightseeing and ballgaming. I will be sparing you most of the gory details of this vacation...because I like you. But someday I'll regale you with a few highlights.

Speaking of tight schedules, I also wanted to let you know that I plan to wind up the Ben&Courtney Wedding Series shortly, hopefully before our next family wedding which is on the 27th.

Meanwhile, I have to run home now and teach Emily how to do laundry.

For lunch today, I had a turkey sandwich on sourdough bread at the coffee shop. Ho hum. But then for supper, I had a garden vegetable stir-fry and sliced peaches, all from our very own backyard.

ANATOMY OF A WEDDING - Part 8 of I think 12

THE PROCESSION BEGINS

WE HAVE LIFT-OFF: Have you ever watched one of those NASA rocket launches on TV? You know, where the preliminary stuff seems interminable, and you wonder if they’ll EVER get to the countdown, but you sit through it just to finally see that glorious launch and hear them say "we have lift-off"? Well I feel like it’s been a similar journey throughout this wedding series, but now I’m happy to report that we’re through with the preliminaries ...and moving on to the glorious main event! And I’m also happy to report that the wedding was NOT scuttled...like some launches are. And I would like to take this time to thank you for your patience and perseverance...and for not waiting in hopes that an abridged version of this wedding series would be released.

MEET THE PARENTS: So first off, and as usual, came the seating of the grandparents and parents. I think Courtney’s brother Grant escorted his mom down the aisle and of course Ben escorted his parents. Then there had to be so much hugging before everyone either sat down or took their places. And it wouldn’t have been so bad but I think that’s when they were playing that Matthew West song When I Say I Do. You can listen to this beautiful song on YouTube, and picture those proud parents and grandparents coming down the aisle looking oh so happy, but maybe a bit reflective too. But this might make you cry. So if you would rather not cry, you can just make up a tune and sing the song yourself (lyrics below) and chances are this will NOT make you cry. Unless of course, you have a decent voice AND know the song...and in that case you might make yourself cry. But that won’t be my fault (Luke).

WHEN I SAY I DO

There must be a God, I believe it’s true
cause I can see his love when I look at you.
And he must have a plan
for this crazy life
cause he brought you here
and placed you by my side.

CHORUS:
Cause I have never been so sure of anything before
Like I am in this moment here with you.
Now for better or for worse
are so much more than only words.
And I pray everyday will be the proof
that I mean what I say when I say I do,
yeah I mean what I say when I say I do.

You see these hands you hold will always hold you up
When the strength you have just ain’t strong enough.
And what tomorrow brings only time will tell
But I will stand by you in sickness and in health.

CHORUS

BRIDGE:
Take my hand and take this ring
and know that I will always love you through anything

As the years march on
like a beating heart
I will live these words
‘til death do us part.

CHORUS

PRETTY MAIDS ALL IN A ROW: Next came the bridesmaids and groomsmen down the aisle...two by two. And I wish I had some drama to relate here but everyone looked good and seemed happy and no one tripped so I’ve got nothing.

THE LITTLE ONES: Then came Nora in a sweet little lavender dress with white trim and Bennett in a purple striped button-down shirt and his Converse tennis shoes. They held hands and Bennett was clearly leading Nora along, but he had his free hand over his face at all times...so of course we couldn’t see him. Clearly the most comical moment of the procession...and one of the sweetest.

And here comes the bride will have to wait until next time...because I have to go home and greet David who just got home from camp. Well, really, I’m not going to greet him so much as lecture him because he went straight to a friend’s house and hung out for awhile before we made him come home. Poor guy.

And I had a turkey sandwich and chips for lunch.

ANATOMY OF A WEDDING - Part 7 of who knows how many?

THE CEREMONY - Well...almost.

THE COOL-DOWN: The guest reception table was ably manned by a small army of the groom’s cousins. Emily and Abbie greeted the guests, asked everyone to sign the picture frame, and handed out the programs...which were cleverly printed on fans with sweet lavender bows tied to the handles. Meanwhile, next to the guest table were two good-sized buckets of ice filled with bottled water which David and David Paul toweled dry and handed to the arriving guests. This was the first time I’d been to a wedding where I was offered cooling agents before I sat down...but it made me feel like a pampered guest at an exclusive resort...so I liked it.

THE WARM-UP: So the story, as I understand it, goes something like this. A few months before the wedding, Ben and Courtney have no music planned for the event. But then this guy named Trevor moves into the house where Ben lives...and lo and behold, he’s a pretty decent guitarist. So naturally Ben and Courtney say...hey would you play some songs to warm up the crowd before our wedding...and he says yes. Then at some point they remember that Rachel can play violin...so they ask if she’ll do Canon in D with this guy for the procession. And she says yes...and so they think they’ve got everything covered. But then at some point (perhaps the night of the wedding), it becomes clear to at least one person that an additional singer might come in handy...for harmonizing of course...and fortunately one of the groomsmen was able to step up to the plate. And that’s how the wedding music came to be, folks.

THE VOCAL STYLINGS OF TREVOR AND COLE: So while we were busy trying to stay cool, the musicians were told to WARM UP that crowd. And that’s what they did. They sang and played a selection of those breezy, crazy-in-love songs...perfect for any warm summer evening but especially this one...with love in the air. Of course, it doesn’t pay to analyze the words of those songs too much. I find myself wondering what kind of guy would "sit and stare" while some girl "thoughtfully thumbs through her hair." And what kind of girl would fall for a guy who "sits there slack-jawed with nothing to say". But when Stephen Speaks sings those words...or even two random guys like Trevor and Cole...somehow we don’t see it as two young lovers who act like idiots. We just believe in the sappy, happy ending. Or the sappy, happy beginning...in this case...

Oops. My time's up and once again, I have to quit just when things are beginning to get interesting. I bet I could write soap operas...if I had a mind to. But I better get this wedding series finished first.

I have so much on the family to tell you too, that I’m worried that I’ll never catch up. But I will persevere. I had this chicken and broccoli croissant thing for lunch, which I had to heat up in a little cardboard pocket in the microwave. And it wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever tasted. I also had some fruit cup. But to make up for that lunch, I had some green beans FROM OUR GARDEN for dinner, with a turkey sandwich, and both were...delectable.

ANATOMY OF A WEDDING - Part 6 of who knows how many?

MORE PRELUDE STUFF

APOLOGY ACCEPTED: We were asked to be out at Courtney’s house by 6 p.m. for pictures. Since the ceremony wasn’t until 7:30, there was some concern that even if we arrived looking fresh and crisp for the pictures, we’d be looking more like so much wilted spinach by actual ceremony time. Because let’s be honest, the great outdoors in Oklahoma is a virtual sauna in June. And I don’t blame Courtney for planning an outdoor wedding then. I blame Ben...because he’s in his crazy-mixed-up-medical-school-days, and thought he’d enjoy his honeymoon more if he didn’t have to spend most of it studying for his boards. He did apologize, and profusely. And naturally we forgave him, and tried to keep our grumbling to a minimum.

DESERT ISLANDS: And at least for me, this "wedding in a sauna" thing turned out to be a good thing. Not only because it allowed me to sweat out all my impurities, but also because it was one of those great EQUALIZER things. Of course the bride and a few others managed to look fresh throughout the night, but the rest of us drooped TOGETHER and bonded...just like fellow survivors of a shipwreck. And here of course I’m thinking of Gilligan’s Island where Kansas farm girl Maryann was able to mingle easily with Hollywood starlet Ginger because they were stranded on a desert island together. In much the same way, I was able to mingle quite easily with those much classier than me because the heat brought them down to my level of grooming. Not that I’m comparing this wedding to a shipwreck...because other than the heat, and maybe one guest who reminded me of the Professor, there really weren’t any other similarities.

THE SET-UP: So you know how when you order fajitas, the waiter first brings you that lovely set-up? A plate full of guacamole and pico de gallo and other goodies? Someone in my family once started eating those accompaniments like it was a salad before his meal...I think it was Zach...and we found that amusing. But the point is that a good set-up always sets a festive mood and prepares you for the sizzling stuff to come. And that’s how it was with the set-up for the wedding. The gates by the road festooned with purple wreaths, the musicians tuning up their instruments, the wedding party bedecked in lavenders and purples all milling about the place. All of this and more provided a festive atmosphere...preparing us for the sizzling wedding ceremony to come. Pun intended, by the way...

And I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to leave you with a cliffhanger...but I have to cut this one short. My family calls and I must answer. For lunch today, I had a special treat. I was in Wichita for a doctor’s appointment (which I will tell you about later, you lucky dogs you) and met my sister Susan at Five Guys and a Burger...or is it just Five Guys Burgers?...something like that anyway. And we had burgers and fries...and they were great...but the company was the BEST.

ANATOMY OF A WEDDING - Part 5 of at least 7

PRELUDE TO A WEDDING

MATCHING TANK TOPS: I would welcome a guest blogger to jump in here with all the intimate details of Saturday morning at the bride’s house and/or at the groomsmen’s golf outing. My first sighting of the wedding party was early afternoon at the church building where Courtney’s family attends. Everyone had gathered there for lunch, but the bride and bridesmaids were also planning to get ready for the wedding in the spacious comfort of the church’s "living room". I was pleased to see that the bridesmaids were wearing matching tank tops because then I could stop wondering who was in the wedding and who was just a random cousin or whatnot. It’s important to know these things so while you’re trying to make small-talk you don’t say to a girl...oh, what did the bridesmaids do last night?...and have them give you a sad look and reply...I wouldn’t know. Because that’s embarrassing.

THE FAIRY GODMOTHER: So the already pretty girls spent the next few hours transforming themselves and each other into knock-out bridesmaids...worthy of deflecting all those evil spirits which people used to think attended weddings to prey on brides. As usual, the wedding party beauty salon was presided over by my nephew Zach’s wife, Haley. Not only is she a professional but she’s basically our family’s own personal fairy godmother. Because with the right product and hair appliance, she can turn any old ash-covered girl into a beautiful Cinderella. So, she comes to these events armed with an impressive array of that product and those hair appliances, and she calmly curls and/or straightens and sprays as many of the bridesmaids as she has time for, but her piece de resistance is always, of course, the BRIDE. Haley's energies and abilities always amaze me, but she obviously can’t get to everyone. So some less fortunate bridesmaids have to be content with the ministrations of fellow bridesmaids. But even for them, Haley always has time for consultations...and is constantly recommending this or that product or this or that tweak. So that in the end, everyone walks out of the room looking...and there's no other word for it...FABULOUS.

PROPORTIONAL HAIRSTYLING: Well...except for me. Obviously, as the aunt of the groom, I wasn’t high on the priority list for beautifying this time. But my niece Katy was wielding a straightener and agreed to "straighten" me. And bless her heart, she worked with relish and considerable skill, and it was all very relaxing. But after she was done, everyone who looked at me either giggled and/or grimaced. And I knew why. See I have this puffy, sort of roundish face. In fact, some years ago shortly after learning the word "porcine", I would ofttimes find that word coming to mind when looking in a mirror. No, don’t feel sorry for me...because I think pigs are kind of cute...in a piggy sort of way. Look at Wilbur on Charlotte’s Web...who couldn’t love a face like that? But my point it that people with puffy round faces should NEVER adopt a flattened hairstyle. Not only does it give you that drowned rat look, but it accentuates your big face and actually makes you look bigger. For the same reason, big women like me know NEVER to carry a small purse. We need BIG purses to go with our bodies. So in the same way, I need a bigger hairstyle. But I do love Katy for trying. She’s precious and nearly perfect in every way.

I’m on my way to the Quinceanera so I have to stop here. In Part 6, we will move into the evening hours and probably even get to the ceremony. Hope springs eternal, doesn’t it?

I had a bowl of leftover fried rice for lunch today. Rachel...in a fit of domesticity...whipped it up last night for our supper. And it was seriously some of the best fried rice I’ve ever tasted, even left over. I asked her how she made it so good and she said she’s just cool like that. So maybe she’s not ready for her own cooking show.

ANATOMY OF A WEDDING - Part 4 of at least 7

REHEARSAL DINNER - THE AFTERMATH (Part 2)

CORRECTIONS: Before I proceed, I need to make two corrections to my earlier wedding posts. One is that there were nine bridesmaids and nine groomsmen (including the honor attendants) and not eight as previously stated. Again, that’s NINE, and I figured this out on my own. One of my daughters pointed out my other error and not sweetly, I might add. She said it was the BROTHER of the bride who was delusional by saying he couldn’t find anything wrong with Ben. I apologize for any inconvenience caused by these errors.

EVEN LUKE HAD OPTIONS: So after sharing time, we were offered many activity options. Courtney’s dad and/or brother had mowed a pasture and marked the lines for a softball game so most folks headed over there first. I was busy catching up with my long lost aunts and uncles so I didn’t play and thus have no gory details for you. I did hear that they chose up sides the old-fashioned way and I really wish I’d been there to spare anyone else the shame of being picked last. Because that honor always goes to me during any family ball game. And I actually don’t mind because then there are no expectations of me...and so I can quit anytime I feel like it, which is usually after running just once to first base. I also take a lawn chair with me anytime our team takes the field...no sense in wasting my energy pretending I’m ready to catch a fly ball when I’m not. I think these habits of mine somehow disguise my natural athleticism, and thus hurt my chances of getting picked any sooner than last.

EVERYBODY IN THE POOL: Fortunately the pool in Courtney’s backyard was much larger than the motels. Because at some point after the softball game all the people who were young enough not to scare anyone in their swimsuits made their way into the pool for diving exhibitions, pool basketball, or just to cool off. The rest of us sat by the pool visiting and watching the young people at play. Fortunately it was dark by this time, because most of the guys had been golfing that day and had extremely unsightly golf tans.

KNOCK-OUT: Next, those crazy kids headed for the basketball court and played more knock-out games than I could count. There were about 30 people participating and so the competition was extremely tough. And I have no idea who won any of the games so if you are reading this to see your name in lights and get some glory, you will have to get used to disappointment.

FREEWHEELING, FREELOADING AND FOUR-WHEELING: A few guests enjoyed other activities throughout the evening. My husband and several others enjoyed four-wheeling over the grounds until they ran out of gas. When I slipped into the house for a few moments...okay yes, for another Connie’s Cookie...I noticed a couple of people had migrated into the air conditioned house and were watching a sporting event on television. Losers? Or were they just trying to avoid developing a heat rash? Who can say?

HIS AND HERS: Weddings can be such awkward affairs, can’t they? I mean, at times. Because you’re throwing two diverse families together and then sprinkling in his friends and her friends who don’t always know each other. The result is a random assortment of people who may not have much in common. For instance, for this wedding, we had a father of the bride who has a pool in his backyard, and we had a father of the groom who can’t swim. We had a mother of the bride who I suspect only bought one outfit for the wedding, and we had a mother of the groom who bought at least five. One honor attendant spent the last three years as a missionary in Africa, and the other honor attendant spent the last three years in high school. And finally, we had a flower girl who speaks softly and a ring bearer who carries a big stick. So you see, we definitely had our diversities.

ONE BIG HAPPY FAMILY: Which brings me to the real reason the evening was so beautiful, at least to me. It wasn’t the cookies or the sharing or the games. It was the fact that all these different people came together and by the end of the night, we were like one big, happy family. I wish we could have found time to sing "We’re all in this together" (from High School Musical) and perhaps choreograph a dance to go with it. But that wasn’t on the schedule for some reason.

So that’s it for Part 4. Stay tuned for Part 5 because we are heading into the actual Wedding Day! I know I’m excited.

I had a veal cutlet, carrot medallions, and fresh snow peas for lunch. Okay, no. I had tuna and wheat thins.

WE INTERRUPT THIS WEDDING SERIES FOR AN IMPORTANT UPDATE

Do you need a breather? I know the wedding posts can be quite intense for some. So I thought today I would just stick with a family update.

Emily, aka Herr Dictator, has only 38 days left in her reign of terror. Okay, I’m exaggerating. But here’s the latest. Last Saturday, she and a friend decided to go garage-saling. Of course she spurns this activity when I suggest it...but that’s not my point. My point is Emily brought home some "treasures" to add to her stack of must-watch videos for the summer. And we all tried to act enthusiastic. She got Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat...and yes the music is awesome, but Donny Osmond really should have rethought that loin cloth bit. Disturbing.

Emily also brought home what she THOUGHT was the movie Honey I Shrunk the Kids. But when she removed the video from the case and placed it in the VCR, she began to dance around...yes, like Frosty. Because the people who sold it to her had mixed up their videos and cases...and it was none other than the SEQUEL to THE BUTTERCREAM GANG!! And the reason I use two exclamation points here is that just a week ago, after forcing us to watch the original movie, she told me about this sequel (information she gleaned from the internet) and said she wished she could see it sometime. So I ask you...WHAT ARE THE ODDS? I mean these are seriously obscure films people...even though one of my readers (Dixie!) actually watched them as a kid too. So Emily was ecstatic...no other word for it...and we then were forced to watch this sequel which...surprise, surprise...was not quite on a par with the original. And afterwards Emily says wistfully, "I hope we can find Honey I Shrunk the Kids for real next time." Or something to that effect. So the moral of this story is...be careful what you wish for...you might get it.

Rachel has started back seriously to dance class and is busy preparing for her role as Cinderella in the ballet by the same name. The most difficult part of this preparation appears to be finding a prince charming. I don’t know if I told you that she and her snow prince broke off their relationship several months ago due to irreconcilable differences. So he’s off the hook. She had another guy VOLUNTEER to learn the part...which was a bit worrisome...even more so when he asked Rachel if there was a kissing scene. But he’s sweet and so we’ll see about that one.

Meanwhile she had a major slip-up last night as my personal trainer. She came in from her speech class and handed me the biggest no-bake cookie you’ve ever seen. One of her classmates made them for a demonstration speech...and Rachel knows how much I adore them. So she only has herself to blame for any addition weight gain of mine.

David went to some football drill thing last night called "dip and slip." I asked him what that meant and he didn’t give me a straight answer. Could that be a sign that he’s on drugs? He brought home an invitation to the Quineanera and it said clearly "y sus appreciable familia" which I’m pretty sure means I’m invited too. Can someone confirm this? Mary?

David has also been the main instigator lately of us all playing Nertz every night. Emily is a hater on Nertz but she will even drag herself away from her movie-madness to play with us. Probably because David asks...and because she’s a victim of our "we will never pass this way again" mentality too.

As for Dave...dear sweet Dave...earlier this week, he woke me up frantically patting around on the sheets looking for his "other sock." He said, "I just had it!" Then he looks around on the floor and walks into the bathroom and searches there and then he comes back into the bedroom and...I’m not making this up...looks UNDER the fitted sheet on our bed for this sock. I said I didn’t think it would be there...but he was obviously determined to leave no stone unturned. Finally he gives up and gets another pair of socks out of the drawer. And that’s when he discovers his other sock is ON HIS OTHER FOOT.

I dreamed last night I was in a glass elevator 35 stories above the Pacific Ocean. This was a nice break from my usual dreams where I’m trimming my nails and/or doing laundry. So depressing to wake up and find those tasks still UNDONE.

I had more tuna and crackers for lunch. It's a rut, but a good one.

ANATOMY OF A WEDDING - Part 3 of probably 7

REHEARSAL DINNER - THE AFTERMATH

SHARING TIME: We moved right into sharing time (hereinafter "ST") immediately following dinner. I felt we should have waited at least 30 minutes...like you do before you swim...so that no one would get sick. Because to tell you the truth, this part of the wedding weekend can be quite brutal, turning many a happily oblivious person into an emotionally overwrought one. And who wants to do that on a full stomach? I know I don’t. But no one asked me.

THE LOVE FEST: So how do I describe this particular ST? Basically it was one sweet, sloppy mess. I definitely could have done without the reminder that Ben was ALWAYS respectful and loving towards my mother...the only grandchild of his age group to merit that praise. But other than that cruel remark, the rest of the sharing was bearable. Many sharers made us laugh and only a few made us cry. All were eloquent and mercifully brief. And only a couple were delusional. That list would include Courtney’s dad who couldn’t find anything bad to say about Ben. He’s obviously never ridden in a 15-passenger van with him for 20 hours straight. But maybe it’s good for the in-laws to wear those rose-colored glasses...and choose to look past minor flaws.

SENTIMENTALLY-CHALLENGED: And a final note on STs in general. First of all, do we have to call it SHARE time? Mr. Rogers would like it...and my mother would. But I would prefer something less blatantly schmaltzy. Like "chatter-fest" or "shmooze-time". I never knew we called it anything until this particular wedding...and then the word "share" just made me nervous. Which leads me to my next final note on STs which is that I hope no one is offended when I don’t say my piece on these occasions. I always think I will, but at the last minute I chicken out. It’s not that I don’t have sickeningly sweet things to add...but I am not emotionally stable at this point in my life. I recently got teary-eyed when I got a new mouse at work...so can you imagine the drama that would ensue if I had to get up and talk about my Ben? I mean years ago, I took pictures and videos of him and sent them to some studio to see if they’d cast him in their Dennis the Menace movie...so obviously I’m a doting aunt. But I just can’t "share" right now.

My incisive (intelligently analytical and concise) narrative on THE GAMES will have to wait for Part IV. If they end up making a movie of my blog, there’s a good chance my seventh wedding post will have to be shot in two parts.

I had my old standby for lunch today...tuna and wheat thins. Still delicious after all these weeks.

ANATOMY OF A WEDDING - Part 2 of maybe 7

THE REHEARSAL DINNER

SALLY IN CHARGE: Since my sister Sally was planning the rehearsal dinner, I pretty much knew what to expect. Bottom line is everything would be PERFECT...not only because Sally has an endearing little perfectionist streak, but also because she works hard to get things right. And because it’s what we do, the rest of us like to mock her for her mildly neurotic lifestyle, but at the same time we all try to emulate her. I, for one, feel like Ruth to her Naomi, and could easily say to her, "Whither thou goest to shop or vacation, I will go. At whatever restaurant thou eatest, I will eat. Thy apple pie shall be my apple pie, and thy stain remover shall be my stain remover." Seriously, if she uses it or makes it or likes it, I want to too.

SALLY IN CHARGE AT SUSAN’S: And I’m not the only one to feel this way. Funny story that may lose something in the translation but here goes anyway. For weeks Sally had been over at my sister Susan’s helping her organize things at her house. One day shortly after they had rearranged the kitchen, Susan’s husband Phil was searching the cupboards for something, let’s say garlic salt, and he finally calls to Susan, "Honey, where does Sally keep our garlic salt?"

TABLE DECOR: Anyway, the point is Sally did in fact put together a dilly of a rehearsal dinner. It was held in Courtney’s backyard, since she already had the tables and a tent set up there for the reception. In the center of each round table was a large pot filled with a riotous array of violet, purple and white pansies...or petunias...or some other sort of flower. I’m ashamed to admit I can hardly tell a daisy from a mum, so the identity of those lovely and festive flowers must remain a mystery. I was able to identify the other items on our table however. At each of our place settings was a personalized Jones Soda bottle and a sparkly Connie’s Cookie in the shape of a wedding cake and adorned with purple flourishes and an "H".

FOILED PLANS: Speaking of those cookies, I should point out that in spite of my careful plans to avoid helping with anything, I WAS pressed into service shortly after I arrived at Courtney’s to assist in the placement of said Connie’s Cookies on the tables. Now everyone knows that at Ben’s brother’s rehearsal dinner, I was one of the head cookie placers and at some point I noticed Sally following me around and RE-placing each cookie that I had placed. So naturally I assumed my name was on a list somewhere of people NOT to ask for help with table decor. But apparently this detail was overlooked, because they asked, and I helped, and the earth kept spinning on its axis.

THE DREADED JONES SODAS: And of course I cannot and will not ignore the elephant in the room. Otherwise known as the awkward Jones’ bottle affair. Because when I wrote a few weeks ago about Ben asking me to write something for him and then rejecting it, it was actually for the labels on the Jones’ bottles. See each label had a picture of the Happy Couple (hereinafter "HC") on the front, and on the back, a short, and admittedly sweet, message welcoming everyone to the dinner and thanking them for their support. And okay, yes. It was a fine message and not nearly as cheesy as it could have been. And in the end, I guess it’s nice that the HC wrote it themselves...since it was their picture on the bottle and not mine. Even so, I still couldn’t help but make several bitter comments to both Ben and Courtney at various times throughout the weekend. At one point, I think I made Ben cry and that’s when Courtney started giving me those "looks". Okay, not really. I didn’t make bitter comments (not about the Jones’ bottles anyway) and no one cried and Courtney never gave me any looks that weren’t loving. But I’m feeling the need to spice up this namby-pamby commentary a bit. Aren’t most wedding weekends supposed to have some tense moments...a little name-calling...and maybe some angry outbursts? Instead, we had nothing but nicey-nice stuff all the time. So you’ll excuse me if I feel the need to inject some fictional drama in here and there.

CHOW TIME: So we finally got to eat. They served a delicious Mexican feast which was catered by Alfredo’s, a restaurant in the O-city area (I think). I was so busy talking to my cousins while I ate that I didn’t get back for seconds before they were packing away the leftovers. But I did find out where they stored the leftover cookies and helped myself to a few. After all, I needed to keep up my strength for the coming sharing time and games.

And I don’t have time for more today...so sharing time and games will have to be Part 3. I’m sure you will be on the edges of your seats waiting for that next installment.

I had a hard, flour taco and fries for lunch...at the restaurant I had to boycott for awhile. The service was great today, by the way.

ANATOMY OF A WEDDING - Part 1 of maybe 7

THE REHEARSAL

FELLOWSHIP OF THE RING: On or about July 4th of 2009, my nephew Ben proposed to his girlfriend Courtney at Victoria Falls in Zambia, Africa. In order to surprise her, he had to enlist the help of various family members, and one of the principal conspirators for this covert operation was my Emily. It was she who secretly bore THE RING throughout the long, arduous journey from OKC to Zambia. So basically this engagement, and hence the wedding, could not have happened without her, or without me for that matter since she’s my child. So you’ll forgive me if I put a personal spin on almost everything that happened at the wedding of Ben and Courtney several weeks ago.

LET THE PARTY BEGIN: We hit town mid-afternoon on the day before the wedding, just in time to check into our motel, freshen up a bit, greet a few extended family members milling about the place, and head out to Courtney’s house for the rehearsal dinner. We saw no sense in getting there any earlier...in fact, it’s customary for me and my immediate family to arrive just in time for the actual festivities, and never early enough to help with anything, and this wedding was no exception.

MOTEL MEMORIES: A word about the motel wouldn’t be out of place here. This was reportedly the finest motel in H-town ($64/night worth of fine) and it did not disappoint. Although Dave noticed that the breakfast attendant tended to put only one banana or one muffin out at a time. And the pool was a bit on the small side, so I decided not to join the swimmers for fear of displacing most of the water. But aside from those rather minuscule flaws, the place was lovely...very clean...and we only had to ask for more towels and toilet paper once.

PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT: We missed most of the rehearsal (in trying to arrive just in time for the food) so I have very little to say about it. We did catch the tail end though, and noticed that everyone seemed to be doing what they were told. Although I heard a rumor that the ring bearer and flower girl went renegade earlier and SPRINTED down the aisle after being told to WALK. Who knew that two-year-olds could be so unpredictable? I also noticed that Zach (Ben’s brother and the minister for this occasion) was directing things, sort of, and this worried me a bit since I have personal knowledge that he didn’t know that was his job until shortly before the rehearsal began.

A SETTING SUBLIME: But as I looked upon the scene as a whole, I saw that nothing could or would ruin this wedding for Ben and Courtney. I mean, they couldn’t have a more perfect setting. The ceremony would take place in Courtney’s front "yard" which consisted of several lush, green acres of lawn with a spectacular view of undulating hills and the distant mirror of a lake. (I know that sounds like a cheesy travel brochure, but I can’t help it.) A bank of white chairs had been set up for the guests on this lawn, and were aligned PERFECTLY, thanks to the mathematical genius of one of the groomsmen (Luke). The whole scene fairly glistened in the late afternoon sun, and promised to do the same the next day for the actual ceremony. Can you say idyllic?

WEDDING PARTY: But there was another element of the scene that was even better than the venue...and that was the people there. Eight pretty bridesmaids in colorful sun dresses (from Africa!) and eight sweaty groomsmen in polo shirts and khaki shorts. Okay, I’m sure the guys were handsome too, but I had a hard time getting past the beads of sweat on their foreheads. But whether they were pretty and/or sweaty, I could just tell they all loved Ben and Courtney, and were happy to be a part of their special weekend.

OTHER PRETTY PEOPLE: Besides the wedding party, other friends were present and lots of family members. All were either helping with something or sitting around like me waiting for the food to be served. The musicians, a guitarist and the cutest little violinist you ever saw (Rachel), were busy setting up their stands and music under the shade of the porch in front of the house. The parents of the groom were flitting here and there, still putting an occasional finishing touch on the rehearsal dinner...which was about to be served in the back yard.

THE PRETTIEST PEOPLE: Last, but not least, the parents of the bride were busy finalizing details for the big day, but also taking time to greet and get to know their guests. I admire them greatly for their courage in having this wedding at their house, and also for their calmness in the midst of it all. They seemed to genuinely be enjoying the moments and not worrying about little things that probably didn’t matter. They managed not only to be gracious hosts, but also to be loving parents enjoying their only daughter’s wedding weekend as much as anyone.

So that’s it for Part 1. In Part 2 we will delve into the inner workings of the rehearsal dinner...with commentary on everything from the table decorations to the "sharing" time.

Meanwhile, I had leftover pizza, a grapefruit, and a watermelon slush for lunch today.

MALE DANCERS

I was telling Dave about my comparison of my family to a legal nuisance...and he said we were more like an "attractive nuisance". That’s another legal concept that says (basically) if you have attractive, but dangerous, stuff in your backyard, like maybe a pool or a trampoline, then you have to take reasonable precautions to keep small children who might be attracted to such items from wandering onto your property and getting hurt. So at first I thought Dave was being sweet and saying that my family is like an ATTRACTIVE BACKYARD POOL rather than a town dump. And naturally I was flattered...until I started analyzing the comment. Maybe he meant that my family is dangerous to small children. Or maybe he was thinking about how much maintenance a pool requires...and how some people just fill them in because they are so much work. Maybe he was trying to tell me something. I don’t really know now.

What I do know is that I’ve been promising that wedding post series, and not delivering on it. But it’s been so long now since the happy event that I’ve forgotten many of the details and I’m having to make things up as I go along. Everyone knows that fiction is much more difficult to write than non-fiction. So you’ll just have to bear with me. It’s like that festering boil...it WILL explode some day...but not before its time. Did I just compare my wedding posts to a boil? I do apologize...it won’t happen again.

Meanwhile, I have that fun stuff I promised you on the children.

Emily did not take the news that LeBron is heading for Miami well. She said she was disappointed and angry. I told her she shouldn’t let her emotions be ruled by the actions of a professional athlete. She said she hoped he would break his leg.

Meanwhile, she has compiled a list of old videos which we haven’t watched in years. They are titles such as The Buttercream Gang, Summer of the Monkeys, and Mighty Joe Young. She wants us all to watch them with her this summer before she leaves home. And we can’t say no because we are being held hostage by that "she won’t be around much longer" mentality. It’s depressing on more than one level, if you know what I mean.

Rachel continues to take her role as my professional trainer seriously. At times, anyway. Last night at the track she said to me cheerily, "Let’s jog this next lap." In the spirit of cooperation and compromise, I said, "Let’s jog this next curve." She said okay, and I proceeded to move my arms a bit more though the curve, and put a little bounce in my steps, and I think she actually thought I was jogging. At least for a minute or two. Then she said, "Try to pick your feet up a bit more." And that’s when I had to tell her that I couldn’t breathe and my knees were hurting. So she backed off. So far, since she’s been on the job, I’ve gained 2 pounds.

David is suddenly in high demand as a DANCER. True story. First he was asked to be in a Quinceanera...which is a big coming of age birthday extravaganza thrown by Latin American families on their daughters’ 15th birthdays. I’m not sure if I’ve told you this before but he thinks he’s Latino, at times anyway. Last year he got asked to attend a Latinos Make a Difference conference at school (I don’t know why) and that kind of sealed the deal for him. He also thinks he’s fluent in Spanish even though I’ve only heard him say things like "that’s a pretty chicken" and "put down your gun", so I don’t know how far that will get him.

But the point is he agreed a few months ago to be one of the attendants at this Quineanera where he has to perform these dances and he has to wear a vest and he wasn’t complaining at all. But then Rachel’s dance teacher asked if he would do this swing dance with one of her groups...and he said yes but then he found out the swing dance performance was on the same day as the Quinceanera. And he was torn. So he called me at work to ask for advice. And of course I told him that the Quineanera girl had dibs on him because she asked first, but he would have make his own decision. And I think he was really just worried about telling either of them no because he knows good male dancers are hard to come by in this town. But later he called me back and said he was sticking with the Quinceanera...because he didn’t want to be a loser like LeBron and switch teams. And I could accept that logic.

Dave is finally reaping what he hath sowed...and that would be a boatload of zucchini. We had a unofficial duel the other night...he whipped up a healthy stir fry dish with the zucchini, while I dipped slices of it in egg and cornmeal and fried it up in a pan. The kids were the judges, and guess who won?

I had no lunch today because I worked through the noon hour. But for dinner I had a slice of pizza at Sam’s. Pathetic, I know.

THE SARDINE CAN

My brother Paul invited the whole clan to his neck of the plains for the 4th of July weekend. As incentive, he offered golf outings, pool time, a fireworks show, and free meals. So of course most of us showed. And we proved once again that even a nice roomy house can feel like a sardine can when you add 26 warm bodies. But my family will endure any amount of chaos to be together. Which makes us charming and quirky, right? And not scary or weird at all.

Of course, I must admit that the girls in this family have had a difficult time scaring up men to marry them. And since they’re all very beautiful and only a tiny bit loud and obnoxious at times, I have to wonder if maybe the family is responsible for scaring off any potential suitors. Which makes me appreciate all the more the ones that finally say "I do" to this family...they are truly brave souls and I can’t say enough good things about them.

But the whole marrying into this family thing reminds me of that old legal concept known as "coming to the nuisance". Basically, it means that if you’re dumb enough to buy a house next to the town dump, you can’t sue the dump for smelling up your air. Of course, I’m not calling everyone who has married into this family dumb, but the bottom line is that they each CHOSE to join this town dump of a family, and so they can’t now complain that we are smelling up their air, right? And they all seem to understand that concept which makes them even more precious.

Which transitions me nicely into my first wedding post (which isn’t this one, but might be the next) because it’s going to be all about the latest brave soul, Courtney, who CHOSE to marry our Ben...and how we didn’t trick her or anything to get her into the family. Not that we wouldn’t have stooped to that level, if we’d had to, because she’s such a great girl. I can’t say that she completes us, because that might hurt Thomas’s feelings since he’s marrying Betsy in August...if we don’t scare him off before then. But Courtney definitely makes us a better family. Because when she can get a word in edgewise, she smooths out some of our rough edges. Seriously. We seem nicer when she’s around.

I have some great stuff on the kids...but Dave just called to say Emily wants to go for a walk. And right now, when Emily says JUMP, we say HOW HIGH? Because we don’t want to have any regrets come August 21st.

I had a turkey and spinach sandwich for lunch...and too many chips. I knew I shouldn’t eat them straight from the bag but I did anyway. Because my personal trainer wasn’t around to stop me.

BY THE SKIN OF HIS TOES

I still haven’t pulled the plug on the TV. But everyday I ponder the idea. Well, maybe not everyday...but at least on the days when I can’t tear myself away from shows like "I Didn’t Know I was Pregnant." Just when I think I’ve encountered (and maybe secretly enjoyed) the stupidest show ever made...I find an even stupider one. Like "Battle of the Wedding Designers." I was literally transfixed by that one.

Then there’s Wimbledon. I haven’t watched it for the last 12 years, and I have to say I’ve missed it. That line judge in the skirt, all those white-only tennis outfits, the lovely English accent of the announcer...could there be anything more entertaining? Okay, maybe. But still...I do love it. And I think...what if we’d never turned the TV back on and I’d never known anything about Isner and his 112 aces and his poor little skinless toes after that 11-hour match. And then I know that our TV is here to stay...for better or worse...

Speaking of for better or worse...I’m still working on that wedding series. It’s coming along nicely, but still needs tweaking.

Meanwhile, I have a family update...

Emily: Finally got her car to take to school. Specifically, a sweet Jeep Liberty. And the hail damage is barely noticeable...if you stand far enough away. But that’s why it was in our price range. And she chose it over a granny-car with no hail damage. She’s no dummy. I still remember shopping for her first vehicle...in the dark...behind a friend’s house at night. He had a line-up of ancient battered trucks for sale...and she chose the one that had doors that opened and shut.

Rachel: Babysitting for 4 little girls this summer. I get text messages throughout the day like this one... "Zoe fell and is bleeding from her mouth. Should I try to get the blood stains out of her blanket?" That’s not unnerving in the least.

David: Went to the pool today and blistered his back. He’s obviously still a little boy who needs his mommy to put sunblock on him. But I was at a continuing legal education class learning about why lawyers get disbarred...so I had no time for him.

Dave: Fixed the glass in my front door today...which was mysteriously broken when my rowdy family was here. No one fessed up which is typical for this family. It's like Sally’s ping-pong table...which everyone still maintains was broken by...well...no one actually. EVERYONE was innocent.

Me: I have finally discovered the beauty of tight-fitting clothes. I used to think if I wore big baggy tent-like things, people would assume I was skinny underneath. One day I realized that people aren't that stupid. So I started wearing things that fit me better...and realized the real advantage of tight-fitting clothes...which is that they need no ironing. Because they’re stretched out over the bulk.

Before I close, I would like to mention that today is my brother Bill's 49th birthday. Nine years ago today, on Bill's 40th birthday, my father died after a year-long battle with cancer. I will never forget how matter-of-fact Bill was about the situation. He said several times how Dad's death made the day more special. After all, Dad was headed for heaven, and we couldn't very well wish him back to this earth. I don't think Bill reads my blog, but I still want to go on record as saying...as little brothers go, he's probably one of the world's top two...or so.

I had a hamburger happy meal for lunch because I was on my way to that aforementioned class and had no time to fix myself a big fancy lunch.

THIS IS NOT THAT POST

My family gathered this past weekend in H-, O- for my nephew’s wedding. Once again I find myself writing in the style of Victor (Hugo) who used that "first initial with a hyphen" technique any time he didn’t want to identify a specific place. We’re like twins...Victor and I.

But anyway, I think I’m the official WEDDING BLOGGER. Although I noticed I wasn’t mentioned in the program, but that was probably just an oversight. Because I am NOT self-appointed...like one of the wedding MUSICIANS might have been. Seriously, the bride herself asked me to blog...and so I shall. But this is not that post. Just as Rome wasn’t built in a day...so my wedding posts (I anticipate a series of 7) will take some time to create. I’m still toying with the title for one thing. Here are a few I’ve considered:

The Wedding of Ben and Courtney...Characters Welcome

Anatomy of a Perfect Wedding (note the medical reference...)

and my personal favorite,

Ben and Courtney’s Wedding...aka SweatFest 2010.

But today I just want to get an update out...on the more mundane aspects of our lives. So here goes...

Emily: Still working 8 to 5...and still trying to get us to feel sorry for her but not really succeeding. Except for this morning when she tried to leave the house at 7 a.m. because she read the clock wrong. Like father, like daughter.

Rachel: Making slight improvements as my personal trainer...until two nights ago when she wanted me to join her for "hard-body yoga". The Warrior stance was nice...but Downward Dog? I don’t think so.

David: Out of baseball slump which is good, but forced us to go with him to practice parallel parking last night which is bad. More like brutal.

Dave: Had heyday at Sam’s today...basically, he’s never met a bulk food he didn’t like.

Me: Lady at my office asked me how to spell berserk yesterday and I got it right on the first try. I’m pretty sure I have the spelling gene, which I’ve heard has nothing to do with intelligence...but I don’t believe it.

I had tuna and Wheat Thins again for lunch. Really, this combination can’t be beat.

HOPE SPRINGS ETERNAL

I am hopelessly in love with MAIL. You know, the kind that is hand-delivered by a real, live uniformed postal worker. I’m sure this love affair started back when I was a wee lass receiving sweet letters on occasion from my grandparents. I know we’ve gone over this before, but it bears mentioning again, that I didn’t get a lot of special attention growing up. Not only was I was one of five kids, but I was the dreaded middle child. Sally got attention because she was the oldest child, Bill got attention because he was the first son, and Paul got attention (and everything he wanted) because he was the baby of the family. That left me and Susan to fend for ourselves for the most part. Okay fine...that’s not strictly true...except for maybe the part about Paul. But I have a point here.

The point is, during my somewhat deprived childhood, nothing made me feel more loved than finding an envelope in the mailbox with my name printed neatly on the front. This love affair with mail continued while I was away at college, thanks to lovely, newsy handwritten letters which arrived on a regular basis, mostly from my mother. So okay, I guess those letters indicate that maybe I did get some special attention, but let’s not get side-tracked here. The point is I remember the excitement I felt just spying an envelope or two through the glass door of my college mailbox.

The bottom line to this whole sordid tale is that even today, I practically skip to the mailbox to get my mail. I mean I know the chances of me getting a handwritten letter are slim to none these days, but that whole mystery thing is still there. What if that rebate from Alltel shows up today? What if Citibank decides to offer me 1.99% financing AND waive those pesky balance transfer fees? Or what if a reclusive millionaire decides to send me a big check just for being me? You never know what awesomeness the mail will bring.

And the good news is my mail has not let me down of late. Every other day I get a funny or sweet thank you note from one of the kids in Emily’s class. I liked the last one which came from a boy and was short and sweet..."Thanks so much for the gift card. I hope my parents let me spend it some time soon!"

But this brings me to the bad news. I can’t bring myself to throw some of this graduation stuff away. Oh, I can probably toss the thank you cards...but what about those great graduation announcements...from this year and last...okay, and from the year before. My attachment to any old sweet thing I’ve ever received in the mail is one of the reasons we had to dig that basement under the house...because I needed someplace to store my boxes and boxes of old letters and cards. I’m sorry, but while I have breath within me, I have to save my mail. Although I did go through the boxes at some point and bravely discarded every mail piece from anyone I didn’t remember. I’m not a hoarder, after all. And I hereby give my kids full permission to toss those boxes of old letters wholesale into the dumpster immediately following my funeral. Don't feel guilty for not reading them...like I did when we went through my parents' stuff.

I’ve made myself the same lunch for three days running now. Because I just discovered how incredibly delicious tuna is with Wheat Thins. I used to always eat my tuna with saltines...but now I’m enlightened.

SUMMER OF THE FRUIT CUP

Several remnants of the graduation still linger about my house...the main one being the giant Happy Graduation banner in the living room. I’m toying with leaving it up until Rachel graduates...because it would be one less thing on my "to do" list next year. My sister Sally, operating on the same principle, sometimes leaves her Christmas tree up year-round. And no one seems to mind. Also, if I take the banner down now and store it somewhere, there’s a pretty decent chance I won’t ever find it again. So it’s probably best that I leave it where it is.

Also thanks to the graduation, I have some of those yummy fruit cups in my freezer. They aren’t actually leftover from the graduation, of course. After all, I believe it was my mother that once said this family is like one of those swarms of grasshoppers who sweep in, devour everything in sight, then sweep out leaving nothing but stubble behind. So the actual graduation fruit cups are long gone. But since I bought way too many of the ingredients for them, we’ve had to keep making them. And that’s a good thing because lately when David asks if we have anything in the house to eat, I just say, "How about a fruit cup?"

Speaking of David, he’s made the painful discovery that his lazy, hazy days of summer are a thing of the past. In general, he hits the ground running (or more like trudging) at 6:30 a.m. with weights, and falls into bed sometime after 11 p.m. when we get home from his baseball games. In between those activities, he squeezes in basketball and football workouts, driver’s ed class, and some score keeping for the rec. So naturally, he spends his intermittent free time lying on the couch in a literal stupor. And since he’s so worn out, there’s a good chance he’s drooling on my couch pillows. But I haven’t complained.

And speaking of baseball, sure enough, since I wrote about David’s surprise baseball skills, he has been in a miniature slump. Last night, his hitting was off and he missed a couple of throws to first base that were catchable. But the real downer of the game occurred earlier when Emily and I first arrived at the ball park. That's when a ferocious gust of wind caught and bent our car door so badly that we were unable to shut it. So Emily held it shut while I went for help. Fortunately we were in the town where our friend Steve lives, and he used a block of wood to bend something in the door mechanism and soon the door was shutting just fine. So I'm wondering if the jinx I put on David's baseball skills is somehow bleeding through to all our baseball related activities. If so, the second half of this baseball season could be a long one.

Emily has Fridays off, so she made nachos for lunch and brought them to my office and ate with me. I will miss this when she is gone.

LAKE HAIR

I’m happy to report I have this Veronica Lake thing going on with my hair today. At least on one side. The other side has that "just got OUT of the lake" thing going on. Fortunately, I have a lot of optimists in my life who will see me as looking half-good, rather than half-bad. I just have to remember which way to turn my head if anyone decides to take a picture of me.

And while we’re on the subject of me, I feel compelled to tell you that my hives are back. They now hang around all day, every day...which is new and interesting. At least to me. This morning I counted 17 hives on just one leg, and then I began to feel stressed so I stopped counting. Because some people (including a few medical types) tell me stress could be the cause of my condition. Of course I don’t believe them...because I am far too well-adjusted for that...but it probably doesn’t hurt to avoid stress anyway.

So why don’t I go to the doctor you ask? Sadly, my allergist told me flat out that he has no answers for me. My guess is he’s spending too much time designing violin bows (which he does on the side) and not enough time studying his "causes of hives" books. So at this point, I am basically just waiting until my nephew Ben finishes med school in 2012 to see if he can come up with a real diagnosis.

Meanwhile I am taking mega-doses of antihistamine, which brings me to the reason I even brought up this subject in the first place. Please know that I am NOT trying to invoke your sympathy here, or even get you to bring me a home-cooked meal, even though that would be nice. I’m merely trying to explain why my posts lately may be less than riveting. Because basically I’m sleep-walking through my life. But come 2012, you can expect greater things.

And a weather report...temp was a steamy 107 at last look...winds gusting to 32 mph. And we have two baseball games to attend and you know what that means. Yep. The Veronica Lake side will soon be joining the "other lake" side. But it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make. I'm just that kind of mother.

Finally, I'm embarrassed to admit I took the kids back to the Chinese restaurant for lunch. I'm so weak.

JINX, SCHMINX

I hate to keep ragging on my personal trainer, but she is definitely slacking on the job. For one thing, our last session was one whole week ago, and then we mainly just stretched while watching "In the Land of Women." (I don’t care for the movie itself, but I think Adam Brody is funny...and I especially like the scene where the grandma sheepishly informs her grandson (played by Adam) that the toilet "might be" stopped up.) Now she (my personal trainer) has gone off to Girls’ State, but before she left she informed me I could continue my training without her. Funny, eh? It’s not that I mind stretching a bit while watching bad movies, but then she had the nerve to mention that I could also burn calories by performing ORDINARY HOUSEHOLD CHORES while she’s gone. She can be a real comedienne at times. And it’s becoming clear to me that personal training may not be her thing.

I hesitate to write this next thing...for fear of jinxing something. I profess not to believe in jinxes or any kind of "luck"...but what if I’m wrong? Anyway, the point is that David has somehow, some way, developed some real baseball skills. He’s catching fly balls on the dive, consistently getting hits, and racking up the RBIs. I know it’s not flattering to the boy, but I have to admit that everyone is a bit shocked by this turn of events. Even David.

Early yesterday morning, I was awakened by some serious thunder and lightning and the next thing I knew, the bells (or chimes) at the church two doors down started pealing (or chiming). This has happened several times since we've lived near the church. I don't know if lightning actually strikes the tower, or if the bells just feel a need to join God's display. Either way, I pretty much love it. There's something about hearing church bells chiming out an old hymn (especially at 5:42 a.m.) that actually makes me smile. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't enjoy it EVERY night, but on an occasional basis, it's refreshing.

I had nachos (grandmother style) for lunch and I made them myself.