For “The Wedding Part 1,” click here. For “The Wedding Part 3,” click here. For “The Wedding Part 4,” click here. For “The Wedding Part 5,” click here. For “The Wedding Part 6,” click here. For “The Wedding Part 7,” click here.
The festivities for the wedding weekend began Thursday night, with a little party that doubled as a “meet the family” event for the bride and groom’s families and a baby shower for my sister Heidi and her husband Mike who are having a small one in January.
Aunt Jessie headed up the effort, and we joined her in the kitchen.
This large block of cheese was heavily involved.
We were a little distracted at times because we were all busy adoring Heidi’s baby belly. It was just so cute!
There were many treats, including these fantastic marinated mushrooms.
I loved them. My husband did not. My only recourse is to make a gigantic batch myself and slowly re-train his taste buds, because something is seriously wrong with them. Other than that, he’s perfect. Over and out.
There were also these delicious little bacon-wrapped water chestnuts. I must learn how to make them, but with a little less saltiness. I’m a salty-toothed girl, but these babies were a little much. I’m thinking of watering down the soy sauce mixture with some dry sherry? Alcohol seems to be the best solution. Aaaah, isn’t it always . . .
Just kidding!! Please don’t abuse the drink. Be cool, not a fool. A dimwit you ain’t, so act with restraint. Be sober my friend, or you will meet your end. You should not abuse your relationship with booze.
Please commit these short proverbs to memory.
I feel so much better knowing that I have now taught an upstanding lesson to the young minds of tomorrow.
While loitering near the gift table, I spied a series of suspiciously similar bags. What could be inside them? The yellow caps drew me closer . . .
Look, one has our name on it! I peeked inside . . .
. . . Lestoil!!!
It’s the best cleaning product ever, and if I ever entered into a drug abuse relationship via the “sniffing” method, it would be with this magical substance. Or maybe with my Noxzema facewash. I’ll have to think about that one.
I’m so happy that Aunt Jessie remembered my “little problem.”
She knows of my addiction, and feeds it.
Dang it, now I have to come up with another moralizing set of proverbs. Chemical sniffing is dumb, and will turn you into a bum. Don’t you sniff that crud or your life will be a dud. If the Lestoil you inhale, you’re sure to end up in jail.
Just call me Rhyming Rhonda. Or Proverb Polly.
Though Dave, the groom, wouldn’t be arriving until the next day due to flight cancellations, his family was in good spirits. His younger brother Andrew stared down the camera time after time. I think it’s a life goal of his.
You’ve probably noticed by now I was having some color balance problems in this room . . . all the walls were different colors, there was a combination of natural light, fluorescent light, and (get this) black lights that made the whites look a lil’ funky . . . I know. Excuses, excuses, excuses. I’ll stop now.
Despite the graininess (hadn’t set my ISO yet, whoops), I love this picture of Erica and Howard, her new father-in-law. It makes me feel a little better about the recent change in her last name.
One of the first things I learned about Dave’s family was that they have an uncanny talent for hanging spoons on their noses.
We all looked on nervously as Erica hung a spoon on her nose–if she failed, would they reject her forever?
She succeeded. Phew.
Then I learned that she was the one who started the whole spoon-hanging debacle in the first place. That Erica.
Our 88 and 87-year-old grandparents Big Jake and Mamma Kitty were able to make it, and they were decked out as usual. I can’t believe I haven’t written about them yet . . . there is so much to say. Wild and crazy stories that you wouldn’t believe. Wild and crazy pictures that you won’t believe even as you look at them. One includes my grandmother in white lingerie standing in the snow, for their now-famous yearly Christmas card.
I won’t even mention the picture of her in a transparent, sparkly body suit with animal furs covering, ehem, the key parts so to speak. She must have been in her seventies when that picture was taken.
I briefly passed off the camera so that I could have a little photo op with Big Jake.
After dinner, we headed over to a gathering of couches for the playing of games and the opening of presents.
One of the best presents Heidi got was a bunch of finger puppets.
This second set of adorable finger puppets is comprised exclusively of heavily furred creatures, so they should be OK weathering a harsh Alaska winter.
They received the majority of the Lestoil, in case they don’t sell that stuff in Alaska. Mike looks especially enthused, don’t you think?
Mamma Kitty snuggled the stuffed lamb. It was quite precious. After being harassed by these puppets, the stuffed lamb needed a little peace and quiet in the arms of somebody affectionate.
Erica also opened a few belated wedding shower gifts.
Something hilarious was probably happening here based on my husband’s adorable expression, but for the life of me I can’t remember what. Wait–sweetie-pie–am I allowed to call you “adorable” on my blog? Because, um, like, you totally are . . .
I’m extremely jealous of this gigantic cutting board courtesy of June and Mike. Just think of all the vegetables you could pile on that thing!
Then again, I’m trying to think of how I would fit that in our tiny sink, and my jealousy is quickly fading.
Erica also received Lestoil. Don’t want anyone thinkin’ the bride was forgotten. She needs it just as much as the rest of us.
And yes, Andrew is still staring me down in the middle of that frame. He’s persistent, and that will take him far in life.
My cousin Steve and his brand spankin’ new wife Steph were looking adorable, as I have come to expect . . .
Blurry picture , but I couldn’t resist posting it–the moment is priceless.
Since the party was held in the church youth group room, there were ample opportunities for gaming. My brother-in-law Mike and I attempted to play a game of ping pong. It was pathetic, and we quickly desisted.
I used to have ping pong talents. Those were my days of glory. I was sixteen, and had a fierce serve. Then, eleven years of ping pong neglect went by, and here you find me, an empty shell of my former self.
Erica and Jen played pool, and Mike played something involving a ball and a long strip of carpet . . .
After all that gaming, we loaded up on brownies and ice cream.
Wedding festivities make you burn a lot of calories, so we all dutifully piled it in. Especially Andrew.
Please notice that he was too distracted by the ice cream to stare down the camera. Hah! I win.
The clean up went fairly quickly since we made the pregnant lady do it. Isn’t that what pregnant ladies do?
After all the madness, where better to go than the hotel bar? Don’t worry, the pregnant one had a Shirley Temple. The rest of us knocked back a couple stiff ones (keep in mind I hadn’t yet coined the useful life-lesson proverbs). It was fantastic. And we actually didn’t “knock back” anything–the boys had a little beer and I daintily sipped a margarita. We were very restrained and proper. Hi, Mom. We’re good kids, we really are.
The Wedding, Part 3 forthcoming on Tuesday. To buy me time, Monday I will post the story and accompanying pictures of a historic wardrobe malfunction in my life. Only stop by if you’re prepared to be shocked.
Have a great weekend, one and all!