Well with all this horrifying hoop de la going with that shooting at the navy yard in Washington my life somehow seems trivial in comparison. And that my friends is why I think watching the news is bad for the psyche!
So anyway, back to my life. As I mentioned what seemed like eons ago but was actually only a couple of weeks, Mr. Husband and I went to Seattle to attend a cousin’s wedding and visit a friend who lives on an island a short ferry ride from the city.
The wedding turned out to be a wonderful and joyous event as weddings often do, but it was a comedy of errors getting there in the first place. The groom chose a location way out in the boonies, a Christmas tree farm owned by a friend of his father. The whole wedding party and prep team moved out there the Wednesday before the Saturday wedding day.
It quickly turned into a temporary mini city with campers, people down by the lake in tents and the whole shebang, almost another Woodstock. Their family is a good fit with ours because that sounds like something we would do. AFTER they got down there it occurred to them that there is no cell phone coverage so people coming in from out-of-town had no way to reach them.
The only way to reach anyone at the farm was to leave a message at the main house which had a land line. Then they had to leave the property and drive up the hill near the town to return calls and check text messages. They gave out the wrong number, oopsie, then finally figured it out and gave out the right one the day before the wedding. To make it even more comical, the wife of the owner of the property decided, right at this crucial, time to go on a telephone blab-fest with her girlfriends and ignore call waiting in the process so no one could get through.
But it all worked out and we figured out how to get there on our own. It was a good 2 hour drive southeast of Seattle. We had an interesting talk with the owner of the farm. The property is 20 miles South West of Mount St. Helens and when she blew their farm was covered with 6 inches of volcanic ash. Good fertilizer eventually, but it did kill off all the Christmas trees and they had to start over.
In the end a good time was had by all. I wish the happy couple a long and loving life together.
I shudder when I hear people say things like “marriage is just a piece of paper. It doesn’t mean anything.” And I used to believe that also, until I tried being married. Maybe a marriage license is a piece of paper, but an actual marriage can be a wonderful thing.
The picture above is of my niece at her wedding. The one we drove 3,000 miles to attend in Key West, Florida, back in December ’12. I hope they look at their pictures with love and hope on those days of baggy sweatpants and unbrushed hair. On those cold dark mornings after being up all night with a teething fitful baby.
A wedding is a great way to kick off a marriage, especially for the bride and groom. They are standing up together in front of family and friends to pledge their commitment to each other in front of witnesses. I think this is a good memory to have when the hard times come, as they always do. Sickness, disagreements, financial difficulties, crazy in-laws and the whole cornucopia of the marital roller coaster ride.
As long as I’m pontificating on marriage I may as well weigh in on the same sex marriage debate. My opinion is that 2 people who love each other should be allowed to make a legal pledge of love and commitment to each other regardless of gender. Being the opposite gender is no guarantee of a happy marriage and being the same gender is not a recipe for disaster. So sayeth I and that’s the enough for now.
For older married couples a wedding is a wonderful time machine to look back on those honeymoon days with one’s spouse and all the ways you have grown and changed. You get to set back and have the wise chuckle of experience knowing that this happy couple is only on their first baby steps of a journey through heaven and hell together.
I try very hard not to complain, but only seldom succeed. I don’t intend to complain for the next 15 minutes or so. Maybe avoiding it in small increments will make me stronger.
Lately I’ve been smacking myself around and comparing myself to Paris Hilton whining about the color of her dog clashing with the color of the purse said dog is in. Don’t know if she actually did that, but it sounds like something she would do and I’m trying to make a point here. The problem is I forgot what the point was.
Oh yes, the insane asylum on wheels. As mentioned a few weeks ago, the Hubman, Mother-in-Law, and I are driving to from North Texas to Key West, Florida for a family wedding because she refuses to fly there. Ah family weddings, wouldn’t be easier to have one great huge wedding and marry everyone off at once? I think the Moonies had a good thing going there, although most of their beliefs are a bit off the wall, in my opinion anyway. It would be a huge cost savings, and greatly reduced stress level would be only a few on the benefits. But, every Bride wants her day and who I am to differ? In fact, I liked my day so much I did it 3 times.
Mother-in-Law traded in her leased car for a new one in preparation for the trip. She’s been driving a Cadillac sedan. The new one is a the Caddy version of a cross over vehicle. This darn car does everything. It even has its own phone number for crying out loud. Now I have to add accidentally butt dialing her car and having her overhear my conversation with Hubman about her driving me crazy to my list of ridiculous things to worry about. And get this, it has dual Blu-Ray players in the back of the headrests with wireless headphones. How cool is that? Now we’ll be squabbling over who gets to sit in the back seat.
Oh well, as Lily Thomlin once said “mankind invented the spoken word because of his basic inner need to complain.” I consider it my duty to listen to my inner needs.
Howdy all. Been so busy yakking about wanting to travel and planning to travel that I forgot to mention that I’m leaving town. 🙂
Mr. Husband, his mom and I are hitting the road in a couple of hours. We’re heading off to Houston for another cousin’s wedding. His family is a hoot. They do love weddings. And they know how to throw a party, lemme tell ya!
It’s only a 4 day trip, but I’ve spent days trying to figure out what I want to bring with me. We’re not flying so I don’t have to worry about liquids or sharp objects in my luggage. Always need plenty of both on a road trip. Oh and a bottle opener. You never seem to have one when you need one and I never mastered opening a beer bottle with a cigarette lighter. My sister can do it and I was impressed when I saw it the first time.
Once I got laughed at for bringing a camping ax with me in the car. They weren’t laughing when we had to use the ax to hack of a big hunk of car tire that shredded and was flapping against the fender so hard we thought we were going to crash. It worked long enough for us to get to a station to buy a new tire. Who’s laughing now? Ha, I say!
Houston is hotter than the first few levels of hell in the summer time, so it’s a tricky mix to pack for a dressy occasion with clothes that won’t make you swelter any more than necessary. I’m not bringing any stockings, that’s for sure. All attention will be on the bride anyway. My naked legs are nobody’s business but my own.
Hubman and his mother are both side seat drivers and spend the majority of their time together either telling the other one how to drive or where to turn, while the other is yelling “don’t tell me how to drive.” My plan is to hide in the back seat most of the way there. Plug in my Ipod, and read or stare out the window. Maybe if I put a towel over my head they will forget I’m back there, yea buddy.
So anyhow. It’s off we go. I’m going to experiment with not lugging my laptop with me this time. So I may drop off the radar this weekend. If I get the overwhelming urge to say something in the meantime I can always borrow Hubman’s laptop. Right after I pry it out of cold dead hands. Nah, just kidding. He’s good about sharing. But, thank God his laptop isn’t powerful enough for gaming or it might not be a pretty story.