I have high hopes for this new school year, and one of those hopes is to be a better blogger, by which I mean a more frequent blogger. Luckily, I have set the bar exceedingly low over the past few months.
I'll start with a recap of what's happened since December, which I believe is when I last posted.
In January, I took a fascinating and fun class in Celtic Christianity. I learned the term "local theology," which I really like. It basically means any group's theology is going to be affected by other parts of that group's life, like the geography and sociocultural climate they live in. The class required us to pray four times a day using a book called Celtic Daily Prayer from the Northumbria Community in Ireland. Or Scotland. Wait, I have the book right here. Turns out it's England. It was a practice I'd never done before and one I've returned to just in the last few weeks. That's been nice, and one of my high hopes is to continue setting that rhythm for my days. I'm also using Common Prayer: A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals. My mom's obsessed with that subtitle.
In the spring semester, I took Theology, Old Testament, and a wonderful class called The Bible from the Underside. We looked at Biblical texts that dealt with minorities, and it was a life-affirming and enjoyable experience. A friend and I worked together on the final project and wrote a Biblical edition of The Vagina Monologues. We may even put it on someday.
The ecological committee started a compost area by the student apartments, and it's looking great a few months in. My dad helped a lot with the design ideas.
In April, I went to D.C. for the Ecumenical Advocacy Days. The theme was lobbying for a faithful budget.
In May, I went to the Annual Recreation Workshop in Montreat for class credit. I took a Contemporary Worship workshop and another on film and faith. A few days after we finished the follow-up work on campus, I left for the Raleigh area to do CPE, which is Clinical Pastoral Education. I spent the summer at Rex Hospital as a chaplain intern. I certainly see why many presbyteries and other governing bodies require people to do it before ordination, and I learned a lot and had many more moments of enjoyment than I expected. It was a rewarding and meaningful experience. I'm also not eager to do it again, and I'm immensely glad to be back in Richmond.
The couples I know who are planning weddings number four. Those expecting babies are two. That may be a combined record.
I preached at my home church three times this summer, and if you ever want a massive ego boost, I recommend it. It's a real blessing to try something new in a place where you have always had love and support in spades. (That came up a few days ago, and I said I never got that phrase, "in spades." My boyfriend said he thought it means you have so much of something that you can scoop it up in a spade. Works for me.) Also, I LOVE PREACHING! It's a convenient intersection of my several types of training.
In a few days, I will start my second year, with Greek, Preaching and Worship (by far the most exciting! See above), Teaching Ministry, and Church History. I'm also the clerk of the student government assembly, which is strange but is already getting me at least one free lunch.
Gosh, are you exhausted just reading this? I guess that's what happens when I try to cram in three-quarters of a year's worth of action into one post. But this brings us up to the present day, and I can now blog as usual.
About the casually-mentioned boyfriend: I met him online, and we met met in December. He is wonderful and great and things.
So, things will happen on here some more. I'm excited. It's good to be back.
Showing posts with label weddings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label weddings. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Wedding Report #5: Molly & Eric
This was the last of the five-month wedding run. Mom came to Richmond on Thursday night, and we left early on Friday for the land of Grey's Anatomy and Starbucks. The wedding was in Port Gamble, a small town outside Seattle. On the way, we checked out (the gift shop of) the glass museum in Tacoma, and we might have seen a building made of shipping containers. We saw Molly and her family when we got to the hotel, then we got amazing pizzas from a local joint.
Let me take a break to tell you about Molly. Of those who are not related to me, I have known her and kept in touch with her longer than almost anyone. She didn't come to Henderson until she was in eighth grade and I was in ninth. She was my brother's age but was in some of my classes for math because her former school district had had a different math track, and because she's wicked smart. Then she was in the combined French 3/4 class with me, my brother, our friend Doug, and a very few others. We saw Elf together in the theater, and the first Harry Potter. Molly lives within walking distance, so when it snowed she would go with us to the elementary school with the good hills. Molly was studying in London while I was in France, so our moms came over one weekend and we all met in Paris. After college, I lived with her and her sweet dog for a few months. Molly is an awesome cook and a great encourager. It's so nice to go across the country to celebrate someone you've known for that long and enjoyed so much.
The wedding was in this tiny chapel in a slight drizzle. All the music was from the Harry Potter movies, most of it recognizable only to fans as diehard as Molly. The main color was dark purple. I knew all the bridesmaids. At the reception, we sat with some of Molly's coworkers, who told my mom they loved Molly and would take care of her.
The whole trip, Mom didn't stop telling me that all the trees were pointy. It was neat to be in an all-evergreen environment, and occasionally we would round a bend and encounter a majestic lake with mountains beyond it. I'm proud of Molly for embracing a new place and a new family, creating a life that suits her to a T, and always being true to herself and those who love her.
Let me take a break to tell you about Molly. Of those who are not related to me, I have known her and kept in touch with her longer than almost anyone. She didn't come to Henderson until she was in eighth grade and I was in ninth. She was my brother's age but was in some of my classes for math because her former school district had had a different math track, and because she's wicked smart. Then she was in the combined French 3/4 class with me, my brother, our friend Doug, and a very few others. We saw Elf together in the theater, and the first Harry Potter. Molly lives within walking distance, so when it snowed she would go with us to the elementary school with the good hills. Molly was studying in London while I was in France, so our moms came over one weekend and we all met in Paris. After college, I lived with her and her sweet dog for a few months. Molly is an awesome cook and a great encourager. It's so nice to go across the country to celebrate someone you've known for that long and enjoyed so much.
The wedding was in this tiny chapel in a slight drizzle. All the music was from the Harry Potter movies, most of it recognizable only to fans as diehard as Molly. The main color was dark purple. I knew all the bridesmaids. At the reception, we sat with some of Molly's coworkers, who told my mom they loved Molly and would take care of her.
The whole trip, Mom didn't stop telling me that all the trees were pointy. It was neat to be in an all-evergreen environment, and occasionally we would round a bend and encounter a majestic lake with mountains beyond it. I'm proud of Molly for embracing a new place and a new family, creating a life that suits her to a T, and always being true to herself and those who love her.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Wedding Report #4: Lindsey & Jeremy
This wedding was a long time ago. September 10. I started the fall semester two days later, and blogging hasn't been a priority since then, but I've felt that absence, so here goes.
Lindsey and Jeremy got married at Landfall, the ritzy country club in Wilmington. I left Richmond early in the morning and rolled in just in time for a luncheon at Elijah's on the waterfront. It was awesome to see Stacey and Lyndsay and Lindsey and to get to know the other bridesmaids I'd heard so much about. I remembered other meals I'd had there, the one where Sims called randomly in the middle of it just to see how I was, the one where Katie walked across the restaurant to fix the blinds for me because the sun was in my eyes, the dinner we had to say goodbye to the same Katie but she didn't even make it and I was bummed.
After a happy girly lunch, Stacey and Lyndsay and I met up with Stacey's husband Bobby and got ice cream at Kilwin's and took pictures at the river in our dresses and, well, I wouldn't even say we caught up because these are people with whom you pick up where you left off, no big whoop. Lyndsay is in Colorado, and she says it finally feels like a real life. Stacey is in a tiny not-even-town in North Carolina, Bobby working in his parents' store and Stacey home with baby Jonah. Best mental image of the trip: Bobby worked at Starbucks before they moved. Every employee gets a free pound of coffee or container of tea or whatever each week, and before they moved, everyone at the store gave Bobby their freebies, so their pantry out there in nowheresville is filled with options for coffee and tea and cocoa and any such thing they could want.
The rehearsal involved mostly walking up and down the aisle, and then for the rehearsal dinner we went to the Pilot House, right next door to where we had lunch. I saw not one but two videos of babies dancing, and the mosquitos came out something fierce but someone had bug spray to share.
I got back to Jeff and Brinley's and watched The Soup and talked with Brinley for a bit before sleeping in their guest room, which has a remote-control fan. On Saturday morning, I woke to the sound of Brinley using her KitchenAid; she was working on concord-grape-and-rosemary focaccia. It was incredible. Jeff was out surfing. Brinley had made granola bars earlier (which I've been making ever since), and she broke one up and served it to me with vanilla yogurt and strawberries. Amy and Eric came over and hung out. The best thing about seeing old friends (OK, I know I'd only been away for two months, but a lot had happened in that time) is the ease of it, like you never left. It felt like I just happened to be over at Jeff and Brinley's that morning.
I got to Landfall in time to hang out for a little bit with Lindsey and the girls before we took our places. Everything was beautiful and sweet, and when they knelt for communion with their backs to us, we could see the bottom of Jeremy's shoes which said "Lucky" on the left and "Me" on the right.
At dinner, I sat with Elizabeth and Lindsay (yes, we are overrun with Lindsay/Lindsey/Lyndsay in that group, but at least they have different spellings), and again it was like old times, giggling about boys and getting excited about Elizabeth's applications to law school and feeding off each other's sweetness and care. The cake was the best wedding cake I've had, the speeches were precious and touching, the dancing was wild, and the whole thing made me see, on the fourth time, why it is that weddings are so great.
It's so not about lovey-dovey romantic mess, like I must have thought it was. Weddings celebrate love in general, and every type of love is present there. You have people who watched the bride and groom grow up, little kids who look up to them, new friends, old friends, neighbors, coworkers, every type of family, church friends, school friends, those who babysat for them and those whom they have babysat. I saw that very clearly at the Moore wedding, not that I didn't at the others. I saw how much Lindsey's coworkers love her. I saw how much her parents love her. Jeremy, great as he is, he's just icing, and that's as it should be.
I stayed with Megan, who was wearing almost exactly the dress I had thought about wearing, and slept hard and woke up and had salted caramel something at Starbucks because they were out of pumpkin spice and went to Pine Valley United Methodist for their 50th anniversary service and lunch, and I looked at what they were putting in the time capsule and hugged all the youth and ate a pot-luck lunch and listened to how all the couples at my table met.
Then I went to the Guppies' house. Baby Jack was asleep, and I had a good visit with Chris and Brian. When it was time to leave, I had to think hard of how much I loved seminary, which I really did and still do, but man, was it hard to tear myself away.
Thank you, Jeremy and Lindsey and everyone involved in the wedding, Jeff and Brinley and everyone from Pine Valley, Chris and Brian and everyone else I got to see in Wilmington, thank you, thank you, thank you Wilmington itself for drawing all these fine people, for being the place where we met and lived and shared and grew, for being the place where I finally started to get it.
Lindsey and Jeremy got married at Landfall, the ritzy country club in Wilmington. I left Richmond early in the morning and rolled in just in time for a luncheon at Elijah's on the waterfront. It was awesome to see Stacey and Lyndsay and Lindsey and to get to know the other bridesmaids I'd heard so much about. I remembered other meals I'd had there, the one where Sims called randomly in the middle of it just to see how I was, the one where Katie walked across the restaurant to fix the blinds for me because the sun was in my eyes, the dinner we had to say goodbye to the same Katie but she didn't even make it and I was bummed.
After a happy girly lunch, Stacey and Lyndsay and I met up with Stacey's husband Bobby and got ice cream at Kilwin's and took pictures at the river in our dresses and, well, I wouldn't even say we caught up because these are people with whom you pick up where you left off, no big whoop. Lyndsay is in Colorado, and she says it finally feels like a real life. Stacey is in a tiny not-even-town in North Carolina, Bobby working in his parents' store and Stacey home with baby Jonah. Best mental image of the trip: Bobby worked at Starbucks before they moved. Every employee gets a free pound of coffee or container of tea or whatever each week, and before they moved, everyone at the store gave Bobby their freebies, so their pantry out there in nowheresville is filled with options for coffee and tea and cocoa and any such thing they could want.
The rehearsal involved mostly walking up and down the aisle, and then for the rehearsal dinner we went to the Pilot House, right next door to where we had lunch. I saw not one but two videos of babies dancing, and the mosquitos came out something fierce but someone had bug spray to share.
I got back to Jeff and Brinley's and watched The Soup and talked with Brinley for a bit before sleeping in their guest room, which has a remote-control fan. On Saturday morning, I woke to the sound of Brinley using her KitchenAid; she was working on concord-grape-and-rosemary focaccia. It was incredible. Jeff was out surfing. Brinley had made granola bars earlier (which I've been making ever since), and she broke one up and served it to me with vanilla yogurt and strawberries. Amy and Eric came over and hung out. The best thing about seeing old friends (OK, I know I'd only been away for two months, but a lot had happened in that time) is the ease of it, like you never left. It felt like I just happened to be over at Jeff and Brinley's that morning.
I got to Landfall in time to hang out for a little bit with Lindsey and the girls before we took our places. Everything was beautiful and sweet, and when they knelt for communion with their backs to us, we could see the bottom of Jeremy's shoes which said "Lucky" on the left and "Me" on the right.
At dinner, I sat with Elizabeth and Lindsay (yes, we are overrun with Lindsay/Lindsey/Lyndsay in that group, but at least they have different spellings), and again it was like old times, giggling about boys and getting excited about Elizabeth's applications to law school and feeding off each other's sweetness and care. The cake was the best wedding cake I've had, the speeches were precious and touching, the dancing was wild, and the whole thing made me see, on the fourth time, why it is that weddings are so great.
It's so not about lovey-dovey romantic mess, like I must have thought it was. Weddings celebrate love in general, and every type of love is present there. You have people who watched the bride and groom grow up, little kids who look up to them, new friends, old friends, neighbors, coworkers, every type of family, church friends, school friends, those who babysat for them and those whom they have babysat. I saw that very clearly at the Moore wedding, not that I didn't at the others. I saw how much Lindsey's coworkers love her. I saw how much her parents love her. Jeremy, great as he is, he's just icing, and that's as it should be.
I stayed with Megan, who was wearing almost exactly the dress I had thought about wearing, and slept hard and woke up and had salted caramel something at Starbucks because they were out of pumpkin spice and went to Pine Valley United Methodist for their 50th anniversary service and lunch, and I looked at what they were putting in the time capsule and hugged all the youth and ate a pot-luck lunch and listened to how all the couples at my table met.
Then I went to the Guppies' house. Baby Jack was asleep, and I had a good visit with Chris and Brian. When it was time to leave, I had to think hard of how much I loved seminary, which I really did and still do, but man, was it hard to tear myself away.
Thank you, Jeremy and Lindsey and everyone involved in the wedding, Jeff and Brinley and everyone from Pine Valley, Chris and Brian and everyone else I got to see in Wilmington, thank you, thank you, thank you Wilmington itself for drawing all these fine people, for being the place where we met and lived and shared and grew, for being the place where I finally started to get it.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Wedding Report #3: Chrissy & Ryan
I was only out of town for about 24 hours this time, and my trip included a few minutes in West Virginia and going through mountain tunnels. The mother of the bride works with my mom, so I grew up knowing Chrissy and her twin sister, Kala, who are a year younger than me. The wedding was on their family farm at the house that Button (Chrissy & Kala's mom) built. My mom and her friends had gone a few months (years?) ago to help build the stone wall behind where they said their vows.
Mom's friends and I drank beers on the back row while the wedding went on. Kala gave Chrissy away. There was Everclear-spiked lemonade, and s'mores instead of wedding cake, and the baked potatos and the zucchini in the zucchini bread/bars came from just a few feet from where it was served in the field. The music was good, the groomsmen and groomswomen were really well coordinated with the bridesmaids, and the entire wedding party recited quotes from movies about love. The weather was very comfortable, even chilly toward the end. The whole thing was great, and everyone was happy, and love is grand. Thanks, Chrissy and Ryan, for the invitation; Button and Wendy for the hospitality; and everyone for the fun.
Mom's friends and I drank beers on the back row while the wedding went on. Kala gave Chrissy away. There was Everclear-spiked lemonade, and s'mores instead of wedding cake, and the baked potatos and the zucchini in the zucchini bread/bars came from just a few feet from where it was served in the field. The music was good, the groomsmen and groomswomen were really well coordinated with the bridesmaids, and the entire wedding party recited quotes from movies about love. The weather was very comfortable, even chilly toward the end. The whole thing was great, and everyone was happy, and love is grand. Thanks, Chrissy and Ryan, for the invitation; Button and Wendy for the hospitality; and everyone for the fun.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Wedding Report #2: Laura & Javier
I left Richmond just after class on Friday afternoon and caught a ride to the airport with some generous friends who were on their way out of town. Got some quality flash-card time in the airport before leaving. A connection too short to speak of in Atlanta, and before I knew it I was in Houston. It turned out the two people I was meeting, other friends of the bride, both had long delays, so I hung out with The Member of the Wedding, my journal, and the flash cards from about 6:30 til almost ten. The two delayed ones were very apologetic, but it was quite nice to sit undisturbed, with plenty of people to watch, none who had any demands on me and none I wanted to impress. The book was good--I guess I'm a fan of Southern gothic without knowing it until now.
I came up with a new career idea: airport chaplain. I found out later in the trip that this does exist. As Mom said when I told her, it's perfect because I wouldn't have to form any lasting relationships. "Yeah, you get to help people without anyone critiquing your sermon or the seating arrangement or anything," I said. Half-jokes aside, it would be a very neat opportunity. I've been noticing a lot of changes in myself lately, which I suppose is a by-product of a geographic and life-stage move. One of them became evident when I was people-watching in Houston: I've always liked to watch people, but it used to be because I was interested in them or curious about them. I still am, but now I also love them. A lot. All of them.
New Friend #1 got in just before ten, then #2 came from Houston's other airport after midnight, and we got to the house we were staying at after 2 a.m. On Saturday, we left just after lunchtime to find our hotel and change clothes before the 3:00 wedding. Everything happened in both Spanish and English because the groom is from Mexico, and the church was really pretty and the couple was really pretty and there was great rejoicing.
At the reception, I got to catch up with a few old Davidson friends and meet a few new ones, learn a new dance that involves a napkin, and enjoy great food and drink and the precious people at our table. Toasts and other announcements were bilingual there too. A few people went out afterward since it was only 8:00, and Laura in her wedding dress got congratulations from strangers, as all brides should.
On Sunday morning, from our patio table at brunch, we watched some unfamiliar birds swarm a recently-vacated table and scavenge the food. We went back to Laura and Javier's apartment, where we looked at pictures and they opened a few gifts. We went to the Art Car Museum, which was scary like many museums are for me and fun and funny like more museums should be. I went to the market and the bakery with Laura, and we looked at her Enneagram book and Amy Sedaris's I Like You and geography games online inspired by their world-map shower curtain. I started reading The Invention of Hugo Cabret, and we had French food for dinner and then bubble tea and an outdoor showing of Othello, which I had taught but still didn't follow. The grass was clipped very short, and there was a well-behaved corgi in front of us, and I couldn't tell the characters apart, and it didn't matter. We talked about patriotism and national holidays and how on Mexican independence day the mayor of each town goes out at midnight shouting "Viva Mexico!" and everyone shouts back.
Monday, I ate a really good cream-cheese empanada and we were off. During my long layover in Atlanta, a French family sat down next to me and stayed long enough that I worked up the courage to talk to them in French. The aunt/sister is a CPA in Richmond, has been for ten years. I had forgotten how quietly French people can talk. Sitting across from them, I heard their conversation as little but a soothing murmur. When I got home, I signed up for the Richmond French Meetup Group, yet another joy of being in a big city.
The rest of the trip was uneventful and delightful. Yet another kind and generous friend picked me up, and I had Facebook messages saying people had missed me, and hugs in real life, and a lot to catch up on even though it had only been three days. What a great blessing, to go see something beautiful and new and then come home to warmth and love.
I came up with a new career idea: airport chaplain. I found out later in the trip that this does exist. As Mom said when I told her, it's perfect because I wouldn't have to form any lasting relationships. "Yeah, you get to help people without anyone critiquing your sermon or the seating arrangement or anything," I said. Half-jokes aside, it would be a very neat opportunity. I've been noticing a lot of changes in myself lately, which I suppose is a by-product of a geographic and life-stage move. One of them became evident when I was people-watching in Houston: I've always liked to watch people, but it used to be because I was interested in them or curious about them. I still am, but now I also love them. A lot. All of them.
New Friend #1 got in just before ten, then #2 came from Houston's other airport after midnight, and we got to the house we were staying at after 2 a.m. On Saturday, we left just after lunchtime to find our hotel and change clothes before the 3:00 wedding. Everything happened in both Spanish and English because the groom is from Mexico, and the church was really pretty and the couple was really pretty and there was great rejoicing.
At the reception, I got to catch up with a few old Davidson friends and meet a few new ones, learn a new dance that involves a napkin, and enjoy great food and drink and the precious people at our table. Toasts and other announcements were bilingual there too. A few people went out afterward since it was only 8:00, and Laura in her wedding dress got congratulations from strangers, as all brides should.
On Sunday morning, from our patio table at brunch, we watched some unfamiliar birds swarm a recently-vacated table and scavenge the food. We went back to Laura and Javier's apartment, where we looked at pictures and they opened a few gifts. We went to the Art Car Museum, which was scary like many museums are for me and fun and funny like more museums should be. I went to the market and the bakery with Laura, and we looked at her Enneagram book and Amy Sedaris's I Like You and geography games online inspired by their world-map shower curtain. I started reading The Invention of Hugo Cabret, and we had French food for dinner and then bubble tea and an outdoor showing of Othello, which I had taught but still didn't follow. The grass was clipped very short, and there was a well-behaved corgi in front of us, and I couldn't tell the characters apart, and it didn't matter. We talked about patriotism and national holidays and how on Mexican independence day the mayor of each town goes out at midnight shouting "Viva Mexico!" and everyone shouts back.
Monday, I ate a really good cream-cheese empanada and we were off. During my long layover in Atlanta, a French family sat down next to me and stayed long enough that I worked up the courage to talk to them in French. The aunt/sister is a CPA in Richmond, has been for ten years. I had forgotten how quietly French people can talk. Sitting across from them, I heard their conversation as little but a soothing murmur. When I got home, I signed up for the Richmond French Meetup Group, yet another joy of being in a big city.
The rest of the trip was uneventful and delightful. Yet another kind and generous friend picked me up, and I had Facebook messages saying people had missed me, and hugs in real life, and a lot to catch up on even though it had only been three days. What a great blessing, to go see something beautiful and new and then come home to warmth and love.
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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