I got back from church camp on Friday around lunchtime. The week was full of bugbites, humidity, delicious food, swimming in a lake that turns everything brown, very little time alone, the danger of stinging nettles, and SO MUCH FUN! I can't think of a better way to say (a temporary) goodbye to Pine Valley and to coastal North Carolina. My cabin was full of wonderful, fun girls, the other counselors were a great help, and I never stop marveling at how smart, faithful, fun, and self-sufficient our youth are. Thank you, everyone at Pine Valley, for making the week and the past three years such a delightful and challenging experience.
One of the highlights of the week was serving communion on the dock. I'd served once before at church and loved it. You get to look each person in the eyes and say, "This is the body of Christ, broken for you." (Or, if you're serving the juice, "This is the blood of Christ, shed for you.") One kid had the kid behind him take a picture, with a flash, which threw me off and made me laugh. Alex was playing the guitar behind us for ambience. Randy was serving the grape juice to my left. A perfect evening. Does anyone know whether a Presbyterian pastor would be allowed to serve communion in that style (people come up to the front instead of staying in their seats)? I think so. I hope so.
It didn't hit me until the next day that I can look forward to doing that kind of thing in my regular life. This also happened the day I got my first acceptance to a seminary, when I went to an MFA event and a professor told me all about how he grew up in the church and what made him leave it. "I'm going to get to have conversations like this all the time!" I thought. What an honor.
As I prepare to move on Friday, my calendar is filling up with lunches and dinners and other last hurrahs. Another cause for great rejoicing; I have so many great friends and so many great places to go and enjoy unique food. As hard as it is to leave, I try to keep in mind that you don't cry because a chapter ends (unless, as Ashley pointed out, it's the chapter in Harry Potter where Dumbledore dies, even though in that case you're not crying just because the chapter's over). You process it and get excited about the next chapter. So instead of moping about leaving (mostly), I look at Richmond churches' websites and the YMCA yoga schedule and my school email account and everything else that helps me focus on the possibilities and the growth to come. And I thank God for everything.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Photos from Wedding #1, Lauren and Paul
If you want to see some more photos, the public link to my FB album is http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150652364300243.688552.890485242&=16a19bed75. Here are a few others.
The church.
The carriage ride. 
The cake cutting. As I took many pictures of this, I was standing next to some teenagers who worked at the winery. I asked if they had a lot of weddings, and they said they were booked for 68 weeks. I said, "But this is the best one, right?" They said, "She is really pretty."
Some of the views we're talkin' about. Who knew this was in Missouri? I would seriously go back just for the heck of it.
Lauren's grandfather playing the clarinet at the brewery. He also played at the rehearsal dinner a little bit.
The sweet puppy at the brewery.Wedding Report #1: Paul and Lauren
I left on Thursday morning for Raleigh, parked at my aunt's house, and rode with her and her cousin and my granddaddy to the airport, where we met Mom, Dad, John (my brother), and Allison (his girlfriend). It was my first experience with the full-body scanner, even though I flew in March. They had to pat me down because of the underwire in my bra. Hooray! We had a direct flight to St. Louis, where our hotel was really awesome and I forgot to take pictures like I meant to, especially of the sign "Limousine parking only."
We had dinner in the hotel, which was actually quite good. Several others joined us, including the bride and groom. The young people planned to go out, but we ended up sending a party to the store for beer and drinking in the hotel atrium instead, which was great fun. Between deciding to go out and deciding to stay in, we called a cab, which arrived the minute we found out we were staying. The driver was not nice.
The next morning, after a delicious hotel buffet breakfast, we left around noon for St. Genevieve, about an hour and a half from St. Louis. On the way, we got to see a little bit of the city, and I liked it. The vineyard where we had the wedding is in really nice rolling-hills country, one of five or six vineyards there actually. I didn't know anything about Missouri and was kind of blown away by how pretty it was. Our car (Dad, me, Allison, and John) got there first, so we went to a brewery down the street and up a very curvy one-lane gravel driveway. At the brewery, there were an uncanny number of dead moths or moth wings in the yard, which was pretty but kind of creepy. Then we saw a nice kitty. I figure the cat was getting the moths. They had a beer called barleywine that was like a beer-wine hybrid. A larger group ended up going back later that evening, and John pointed out that they had homemade root beer. I figured I'd have just a try to see how it was--why would I need a whole glass?--but it was SO GOOD that I had to get it. Really. If you ever go to Charleville Brewery and Vineyard near St. Genevieve, Missouri, get the root beer. And the barleywine. And the winerita. And the strawberry beer if it's summer. And, well, pretty much everything. On the second trip, some of the bride's family was there too, and her granddad played the clarinet in the background. There was also a nice dog and pretty stained glass.
That night, those who were in the wedding went to the rehearsal, and then the rest of us met them at the rehearsal dinner in the winery's cellar, lined with barrels and nice and cool after a hot day. Allison and I were standing near a table with only one couple at it, deciding whether to sit there. I thought, "Surely these people can hear us talking about whether we're going to sit with them," so I said, "These people look nice. Let's sit here." So my nuclear family joined Elizabeth and Brian. Once we determined that we were all on Paul's side (although we're just as much on Lauren's side, too!), Mom said, "Oh, you're Elizabeth from summer P.E.!" Apparently, Paul and Elizabeth did not go to the same high school but both had to take P.E. in the summer, and they would walk around the track together, and they became friends. So my mom says, "Which high school did you go to?" and Elizabeth says, "Enloe." And I think, "I know only one girl who went to Enloe. And her name was Elizabeth. And she looks not at all unlike this one." So I say, "What's your last name?" because I am creepy like that and remember the last names and high schools of people I knew for a week twelve or more years ago. And she said it and yep, it was my roommate from summer writing camp at Queens College the summer after eighth grade. She lives in Chicago now, and she's marrying Brian in October. We had fun.
The next morning, Mom and I were hostesses of the bridesmaids' brunch in Lauren's villa. Oh, I didn't tell you, everyone stayed in villas, which are nice houses with good views decorated in the French Country manner, and so much more fun than a hotel. So we went to the girls' villa, and the winery staff delivered chicken salad sandwiches and chicken cordon bleu sandwiches and strawberry turnovers and homemade potato chips and dip and coffee the makings for mimosas. The hairdresser was working on Lauren when we got there, and everyone else took turns getting hair did or stepping out to the spa for makeup. Meanwhile, we enjoyed the good food and decorated handkerchiefs with Sharpies, because some ideas sound a little weird but turn out to be really good. The rationale: people will probably need to wipe their eyes at a wedding. Some probably don't have hankies. It's nice to have a party favor. It's fun to draw together. Voila! A good thing. I've still got mine in my purse.
After changing clothes, taking pics of Lauren in her dress, and semi-helping get the couple's villa ready for that night, I took up my post in the chapel vestibule. I got to see the string quartet pass a cello up into the balcony. As I handed out programs, one guy was making a funny noise as he came in, and we realized he had a cicada on him! We shooed him outside, and when he came back he said it had been inside his jacket.
A note on the chapel: It was about to be demolished, and the vineyard said, "We want it." So they dismantled it and brought it onto the grounds and rebuilt it, or something to that effect. It was teeeeeeny tiny and very cute.
The service was lovely but probably the least memorable part of the weekend for me. Funny how that works. Afterward, Paul and Lauren rode away in a horse-drawn carriage under a barrage of bubbles. Then we took a few family pictures and went to the reception. I was seated with Elizabeth and Brian again, plus some friends of Lauren's from her study abroad in France who were also Christian and might want to be missionaries and were excited about my going to seminary. After dinner and the best-tasting wedding cake I've ever had, I danced a lot and took blurry pictures and laughed and danced and laughed.
The next morning, we went straight to the airport even though our flight wasn't til 8 p.m. We were too tired to figure out what to do in St. Louis. It was actually quite nice to read and chill in the airport. I watched the first two episodes of Modern Family on Mom's iPad. The flight was uneventful except that we had a really funny flight attendant, and at the end when the seatbelt light went off, he said, "All rise." I slept at Aunt Kim's house for about 11 hours, then drove home and started my last week of work.
To sum up the weekend, I was felt up by a TSA agent, angered a Russian cab driver, slept on a couch with two towels and a tuxedo jacket for covers, ruined my watchband by sweating, lost a shoe for twelve hours, had no time to relax, did not have a date, broke a wineglass and cut my finger trying to clean it up, semi-flirted with a guy and then realized he was with someone, disagreed with part of the pastor's meditation, and worst of all, had to listen to "Beverly Hills" by Weezer. Really, is that what you play when someone requests Weezer? Including all of this, it was the best weekend I've had in a long, long time. Thank you, Lauren and Paul, for getting married. Thank you, Mom and Dad and Kim, for taking us there. Thank you, John and John and Allison and David and Caroline and everyone else, for making it so fun. Someone should get married at least once a month. Oh, wait! That is the case! Now I'm gearing up for Laura and Javier in July.
I'm going to put photos in a separate post. Stay tuned!
We had dinner in the hotel, which was actually quite good. Several others joined us, including the bride and groom. The young people planned to go out, but we ended up sending a party to the store for beer and drinking in the hotel atrium instead, which was great fun. Between deciding to go out and deciding to stay in, we called a cab, which arrived the minute we found out we were staying. The driver was not nice.
The next morning, after a delicious hotel buffet breakfast, we left around noon for St. Genevieve, about an hour and a half from St. Louis. On the way, we got to see a little bit of the city, and I liked it. The vineyard where we had the wedding is in really nice rolling-hills country, one of five or six vineyards there actually. I didn't know anything about Missouri and was kind of blown away by how pretty it was. Our car (Dad, me, Allison, and John) got there first, so we went to a brewery down the street and up a very curvy one-lane gravel driveway. At the brewery, there were an uncanny number of dead moths or moth wings in the yard, which was pretty but kind of creepy. Then we saw a nice kitty. I figure the cat was getting the moths. They had a beer called barleywine that was like a beer-wine hybrid. A larger group ended up going back later that evening, and John pointed out that they had homemade root beer. I figured I'd have just a try to see how it was--why would I need a whole glass?--but it was SO GOOD that I had to get it. Really. If you ever go to Charleville Brewery and Vineyard near St. Genevieve, Missouri, get the root beer. And the barleywine. And the winerita. And the strawberry beer if it's summer. And, well, pretty much everything. On the second trip, some of the bride's family was there too, and her granddad played the clarinet in the background. There was also a nice dog and pretty stained glass.
That night, those who were in the wedding went to the rehearsal, and then the rest of us met them at the rehearsal dinner in the winery's cellar, lined with barrels and nice and cool after a hot day. Allison and I were standing near a table with only one couple at it, deciding whether to sit there. I thought, "Surely these people can hear us talking about whether we're going to sit with them," so I said, "These people look nice. Let's sit here." So my nuclear family joined Elizabeth and Brian. Once we determined that we were all on Paul's side (although we're just as much on Lauren's side, too!), Mom said, "Oh, you're Elizabeth from summer P.E.!" Apparently, Paul and Elizabeth did not go to the same high school but both had to take P.E. in the summer, and they would walk around the track together, and they became friends. So my mom says, "Which high school did you go to?" and Elizabeth says, "Enloe." And I think, "I know only one girl who went to Enloe. And her name was Elizabeth. And she looks not at all unlike this one." So I say, "What's your last name?" because I am creepy like that and remember the last names and high schools of people I knew for a week twelve or more years ago. And she said it and yep, it was my roommate from summer writing camp at Queens College the summer after eighth grade. She lives in Chicago now, and she's marrying Brian in October. We had fun.
The next morning, Mom and I were hostesses of the bridesmaids' brunch in Lauren's villa. Oh, I didn't tell you, everyone stayed in villas, which are nice houses with good views decorated in the French Country manner, and so much more fun than a hotel. So we went to the girls' villa, and the winery staff delivered chicken salad sandwiches and chicken cordon bleu sandwiches and strawberry turnovers and homemade potato chips and dip and coffee the makings for mimosas. The hairdresser was working on Lauren when we got there, and everyone else took turns getting hair did or stepping out to the spa for makeup. Meanwhile, we enjoyed the good food and decorated handkerchiefs with Sharpies, because some ideas sound a little weird but turn out to be really good. The rationale: people will probably need to wipe their eyes at a wedding. Some probably don't have hankies. It's nice to have a party favor. It's fun to draw together. Voila! A good thing. I've still got mine in my purse.
After changing clothes, taking pics of Lauren in her dress, and semi-helping get the couple's villa ready for that night, I took up my post in the chapel vestibule. I got to see the string quartet pass a cello up into the balcony. As I handed out programs, one guy was making a funny noise as he came in, and we realized he had a cicada on him! We shooed him outside, and when he came back he said it had been inside his jacket.
A note on the chapel: It was about to be demolished, and the vineyard said, "We want it." So they dismantled it and brought it onto the grounds and rebuilt it, or something to that effect. It was teeeeeeny tiny and very cute.
The service was lovely but probably the least memorable part of the weekend for me. Funny how that works. Afterward, Paul and Lauren rode away in a horse-drawn carriage under a barrage of bubbles. Then we took a few family pictures and went to the reception. I was seated with Elizabeth and Brian again, plus some friends of Lauren's from her study abroad in France who were also Christian and might want to be missionaries and were excited about my going to seminary. After dinner and the best-tasting wedding cake I've ever had, I danced a lot and took blurry pictures and laughed and danced and laughed.
The next morning, we went straight to the airport even though our flight wasn't til 8 p.m. We were too tired to figure out what to do in St. Louis. It was actually quite nice to read and chill in the airport. I watched the first two episodes of Modern Family on Mom's iPad. The flight was uneventful except that we had a really funny flight attendant, and at the end when the seatbelt light went off, he said, "All rise." I slept at Aunt Kim's house for about 11 hours, then drove home and started my last week of work.
To sum up the weekend, I was felt up by a TSA agent, angered a Russian cab driver, slept on a couch with two towels and a tuxedo jacket for covers, ruined my watchband by sweating, lost a shoe for twelve hours, had no time to relax, did not have a date, broke a wineglass and cut my finger trying to clean it up, semi-flirted with a guy and then realized he was with someone, disagreed with part of the pastor's meditation, and worst of all, had to listen to "Beverly Hills" by Weezer. Really, is that what you play when someone requests Weezer? Including all of this, it was the best weekend I've had in a long, long time. Thank you, Lauren and Paul, for getting married. Thank you, Mom and Dad and Kim, for taking us there. Thank you, John and John and Allison and David and Caroline and everyone else, for making it so fun. Someone should get married at least once a month. Oh, wait! That is the case! Now I'm gearing up for Laura and Javier in July.
I'm going to put photos in a separate post. Stay tuned!
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