Wedding of the Century Part Deux: Counting Down

Well, that's certainly a new look in visual aids, no? I went from the brightest, most vibrant picture of Honeycrisp apples I could snap to the least colorful photo ever posted on this  site. A sharp left turn from bright to something that looks like a daguerreotype shot by Matthew Brady on his way home from Gettysburg.

That's because I'm trying to disguise what's hanging in the background: On the closet door behind the antique lamp in the guest room are three dresses that will be part of the mother-of-the-groom finery at The Wedding, which is now less than two dozen days in the future. (Yikes!) I promised myself I would not post pictures of the dresses until after the blessed event, but they pretty much epitomize my preparations so I did the photo editing equivalent of pasting a fake mustaches on them as disguise. (Tell the truth: Could you pick out those dresses in a crowd of MoGs? No, I didn't think so.)

My preparation for the wedding can pretty much be summed up in five words: Me, me, me, me, me. Also, me.

Because Boy#2's Lovely Girl and her mother are absolute dynamos of organization and creativity, and because all of the Best Men (i.e., additional Boys) can now dress themselves, I've been able to spend all of my anticipatory energy on myself.

These dresses represent six MoG outfits that were ordered, tried, and rejected (insert increasingly panicked look on my face as nothing seemed right) before I found the right one by walking into a store, picking it off a rack, and falling in love with it. Who knew that was a thing?

The closet door also supports a rehearsal dinner dress that was made especially for me by the fine ladies of eShakti, and a whole post will follow on that experience because I cannot express my love for them adequately in one paragraph.

And the dresses are repping the trial manicure, the two new pairs of party shoes (one fancy, one plain, both comfortable), the shawl I knit in case Boston weather turns cool, the teeth whitening trays, and the industrial-strength foundation garments that promise to make me look long and sleek and 21 under those dresses.

I think I have everything, plus spares of essentials.  Now it's just a matter of fitting all of this into suitcases and two weeks from tomorrow entrusting it to Southwest Airlines baggage handlers.

Just a few more days and those black-and-white dresses will be full color. We're counting down!

Friday Orts and Blurbs: Things That Are Making Me Happy

If you are a long-long-longtime reader of this blog, you may remember that a long-long-long time ago on Fridays this space was reserved for Orts and Blurbs. This was back when I had Thoughts in my head and didn't invest all my mental energy wondering where I left...something. Anything. Everything.

Anyway, orts and blurbs are short features of things I love and endorse. This week I have several things I'm loving:

1. The apples shown above. Husband and I spent last weekend with Boy#1 and Lovely Girl in their Missouri home, and One thoughtfully put out a bowl of apples as snacks. I took a bite of one and lo, the heavens opened and angels sang. They were Honeycrisp, and this cultivar is certainly the most delicious thing to come off a tree since the Garden of Eden. Better, really. They're sweet, tart, and crisp, but without the Fall of Man associated with that original apple. I immediately bought my own over-packaged Honeycrisps, and they are not inexpensive (think $1 each), but when I consider how many wizened apples I normally throw away from the bargain bag, it's about the same cost.

2. This book. Oh, people, this book. I know I am late to the party (it was published in 2004) but I am savoring it as if it were a Honeycrisp apple. To sum it up: An aged father, knowing he will die soon, writes his legacy to his young son. I'm only halfway through but I have re-read, lightly underlined (it's a library book and I will erase before I return the book), and pondered at least a dozen pages that are now paper-clipped for future reference. One of my favorite paragraphs:

For me writing has always felt like praying, even when I wasn't writing prayers, as I was often enough. You feel that you are with someone. I feel I am with you now, whatever that can mean considering that you're only a little fellow now and when you are a man you might find these letters of no interest. Or they might never reach you, for any of a number of reasons. Well, but how deeply I regret any sadness you have suffered and how grateful I am in anticipation of any good you have enjoyed. That is to say, I pray for you. And there's an intimacy in it. That's the truth. 

Oh, so lovely, and such truth in that for any writer or parent.

 

3. Knitting and Netflix. As the weather has cooled from if-it's-July-in-Kansas-this-must-be-hell highs to September's more reasonable temperatures I've been able to put several projects into the finished column. I hold dear the superstition that if I'm happy while knitting the stitches come off the needles easier so it was the perfect time to discover that The Great British Baking Show is now on Netflix. This series is quite possibly my favorite television show of all time, and I'm including Here Come the Brides in that assessment. (My teenaged self is shrieking in disbelief.) Lovely people, lovely food, and the self-delusion that if I were in the tent I'd get a Paul Hollywood handshake for my dinner rolls. This and lovely Icelandic wool are the perfect companions.

4. Finally, the thing that happened during my junior high accompanying gig yesterday. The delightful and energetic young teacher was warming up the group when she uttered the following sentence: "Boys have one wonderful thing that girls don't have. Does anyone know what that is?" The seventh grade boys on the front row came unglued, as did the accompanist, because the accompanist apparently has a junior high sense of double entendre.

Falsetto. She was talking about falsetto. And she carried on with the class without missing a beat. Brava, Mrs. M.

What's making you happy these days?

Cranky Wednesday

Boy#4's falafal was not awful. (It was wonderful.)

It is a cranky Wednesday here in the midsection of the nation.

Other than my usual reasons for crankiness (the political climate has continued to be jaw-droppy for almost two years, and Doc Martin is on its final season) I've been trying to suss out why I'm feeling especially stabby this morning, and I've narrowed it down to a few suspected causes:

1. It is raining. Again. And while we in the midsection of the nation love rain for the refilling of the aquifer and replenishing of the land, we are within days of the annual festival that doubles the population of Small Town and puts tie-dye in every aisle of WalMart. I don't have a personal financial stake in this festival, but I feel for those who are fielding the REALLY cranky questions from campers who will slog around in rain boots for days on end complaining about their banjo strings being out of tune.

2. Also, it was raining yesterday and I had to walk through two inches of run-off in the parking lot and may have ruined my favorite sandals.

3. Also, I found a tiny snake on the back steps of the House on the Corner. By tiny, I mean that it was caught in a spider web that my execrable housekeeping had conveniently left unswept, and I thought it was a three-inch piece of snipped yarn until it wiggled at me. It may have been a friendly wiggle or a cry for help (see also: caught in spider web) but I'm still wrestling with the question of whether napalm or a Molotov cocktail would be more efficient in burning the house down.

4. Also, I am back to my job-shared accompanying gig, but my partner-in-sharing is out for September so I am working (brace yourself) EVERY DAY. By that I mean four days each week, but people, after a lazy summer this feels GRUELING.

5. Also, Husband is not completely sympathetic about #4, seeing that a computer conversion means he is working pretty much non-stop with no regard for days at all.

So,  crankiness. However, just two days ago I had one of the most lovely days ever.

1. I finished a knitting project* that was so much fun, and when I got it onto the blocking board (aka the guest bed) and stuck 354 blocking pins into it, it also was beautiful! This is a rarer outcome than one would imagine, with me often standing over a drying garment on which I have spent actual U.S. dollars to buy yarn, not to mention the investment of uncounted hours of time, thinking "Yeah, don't really like that at all."

2. Also, at two weeks my manicure is going strong. It's nearing the growing-out stage at which I will need to revisit my manicurist as I have been informed that a powder manicure removal is not to be attempted by amateurs, but if  you don't look closely, these nails show no indication that I have used them to scrub pans multiple times in the past two weeks.

3. Also, Boy#4 spent a couple of days at the HotC, and oh, people, it is so fun to have grown-up Boys in the house. Not only are they good conversationalists who tell interesting stories, they cook. For Labor Day lupper (like brunch, but between lunch and supper) Four made falafal to go with my homemade pita bread and it was one of the best meals I've had in ages. I was the worst mother ever when it came to teaching my children to cook (I am territorial and impatient in the kitchen, which is not a good look) but all four of our sons have turned into excellent, adventuresome chefs.

4. Also, Husband heard my shriek and evicted the minuscule snake from the back steps, and was very sweet about my unapologetic dumping of that task on him. He reminded me that years ago one of the Boys found a tiny garter snake on those same stairs and we survived that horror so we will probably live through this one as well.

So while it is still raining, I'm now drinking a nice cup of coffee during my break between classes and feeling somewhat less cranky.

Also, Doc Martin isn't gone quite yet.



*The knitting project was a shawl named "Waiting for Rain" by Sylvia McFadden that I worked in a beautiful yarn I got on sale and still thought was a stretch for my budget. I'd link the pattern, but I'm lazy. Knitters, find it on Ravelry.