What I'm Doing On My Summer Vacation

My Mother of the Groom Dress (Oh, settle down. Not really.)

Over the weekend one of my oldest and dearest friends sent me a picture of herself with two hiking buddies. They live in Alaska so the picture was gorgeous, shot in a field of wildflowers with mountains rising in the background.

"I went hiking this week with friends, ALL older than me.  The woman in the middle of our threesome in the photo turned 77 years old this week!  She kept up with all of us, and in fact on a boulder field I had trouble keeping up with her as we stretched, leaned, shifted weight, balanced, etc.  She is amazing. What a role model as this summer I find myself making age excuses for why I might be doing less…"

Well.

Where should I start about my summer? Outside of our Boston adventure I have been...well, shall we describe my lifestyle as "focused"?

Yes, that word works. Except the entire focus has been on me, me, me. Here's what I replied to O&D Friend:

Holy cow! That's amazing. Congratulations on finding the most picturesque spot in North America to take a shot AND coordinating your friends and outfits to match. 

I am doing way less strenuous work than that: I haven't started my accompanying gig yet so I'm taking advantage of a true summer vacation by knitting and binge-ing Netflix. So far I've finished a shawl and the entire "Midsomer Murders" series. (So very sad about finishing MM--each episode felt like spending a day or two in England and whenever I think of that possibility the angels sing, although Midsomer seems like a very dangerous place to live. So many options of how to be dispatched.)

Oh, and I've spent an inordinate amount trying to become beautiful. Our part in the Wedding of the Century Part Deux is obviously limited, since we're (a) not the parents of the bride, and (b) not there. So we sent a check ("Spend it any way you want!") and our best wishes, and I've channeled all other impulses into personal primping.

So far I've found a dress (finally, after having four different options lined up and hanging from the closet door), had custom trays made for teeth whitening, tried out a new pedicure technique, and spent several hours net-shopping and muttering "Hat or fascinator? Hat or fascinator?" before having the groom tell me that probably "neither" was the correct option. 

(A side note: I am a little concerned about whether I have made the right choice of dresses. You know that I hate, hate, hate shopping. Husband took me to the mall last week and after two hours I was walking the dangerous line between cranky and catatonic. The love of my life observed that his mother was a better shopper than I am up until about three weeks before her death at age 92. And yes, we are still married, but only because he then bought me an expensive dress.)  

Because much of my dress shopping was done online my search engine now defaults to "Mother of the Bride Dresses" and a few days ago today's beauty shot was the first result. I think Google has me pegged. Do I wear that with a hat or a fascinator? 

Anyway, I am absolutely sincere when I say I am so proud of you, O&D. That friend who's 77 has nothing on you--you just haven't lived that long yet. 

And now, if you'll excuse me, I have a trip to the yarn store planned and those British crime procedurals aren't going to watch themselves. 

I believe I'll put on my Mother of the Groom dress and be comfy. 

Ta-ta, and watch out for butlers bearing Roman swords!