July 1, 1967

Forty years ago we almost didn't have a wedding. Two weeks before our selected date, the minister had resigned unexpectedly and left town. Panic ruled! Invitations had been sent out, out of town guests expected, and no one to marry us. This was small town USA. The Methodist Church did find someone to officiate for the afternoon.

Thankfully the replacement minister ran us through rehearsal the night before. After that we gathered at Denny's folks for lunch and gift opening.

I had made my gown of white Peau de Soie which had a rounded neckline, fitted bodice, and detachable train. The gown had full length sleeves with pearl buttons. Course then I weighed 95 pounds! My bridal bouquet was white stephenotis and pink roses along with ivy. My sister kept a cutting which grew and grew. (My green thumb wasn't as good as hers.) My daughter used cuttings from that plant as her reception arrangements for her wedding 10 years ago.

Nancy, maid of honor, wore a floor length gown of hot pink, a color she hated. Doris & Pat wore light pink.

The day was hot and humid which did nothing for our coiffed hairdos. At the farm, indoor plumbing had just been installed so preparations were easier. Silly me, I even let my sister help with my packing. She'd done a number on my suitcase--ten years later rice was still falling out!

As the processional began, bridesmaids sedately walked down the aisle. I almost fainted due to low blood sugar, and a bun was foisted upon me. Nancy, my maid of honor, stopped at the hallway and refused to enter. My dad gave her that steely look and pushed her out of the doorway and down the aisle. As we knelt at the alter, Denny's knees were knocking so bad due to nerves that the tacks holding the runner popped out.

Our honeymoon was along the North Shore but we were unprepared for the frost and cold weather. We had to use our Triple A card to scrape off the windshields.

We've been blessed with a terrific family, friends, tons of memories, and happiness.

Contributed by Ann

Boat Driving

Another funny random camp moment came after one of my first speed boat rides. We unloaded the boat at the dock and as we walked to shore, one of the women who has schizophrenia turned to me and said, "You're a really good boat driver we were going 35 miles per hour that's about half as fast as a cheetah goes I have to go to my cabin bye!" It was all uttered in one deep breath.

Contributed by Aryn.

Real Writing

"...and the beautiful thing about real writing is that I can tell you everything today and chalk it all up as fiction tomorrow."

Socialist

I listened to a college couple arguing politics late one night in Perkins.

"You won't believe all these things once you start making lots of money," he said.

"Well, I guess it's obvious I'd better never make any. For the good of my soul," she replied. I'm sure it was the first time I heard someone bring their soul into an argument in some time.

I Love a Parade!

Summer and it's time for parades! You can appreciate a parade through the fresh eyes of a child. The clapping and excited tapping of her dancing happy feet when the color guard passes. She steps in cadence as the Virginia band snappily marches by. The questioning look upon her face as tootsie rolls candies rain down and land close to her feet. The lifted eyebrow seeking permission before she claims them and gleefully dumps them in her sand bucket. She cheerfully shares her bootie with fellow parade goers including the Animal Canine Shelter unit and gets a sloppy lick for her generosity. Mo-moes (Shriner's Motorcycles) roll by in formation. Balloons escape and float high in the sky where helicopters are providing aerial tours. The Clown Band prompts chaos behind the motorized porti toilet spewing tissue as it drunkenly spins and moves along the route. Fire engines, royalty from local cities, car clubs, and floats make a parade day a beautiful thing--along with 10 pounds of candy!

Contributed by Ann

Translation

[My friend, Aryn, works at a summer camp for people with special needs. She sent me the following story.]

One of my favorite campers holds that position because of the sheer dichotomous nature of his personality. His cerebral palsy affects his speech making him fairly hard to understand, but after several years of working with him I am fairly accustomed to it.

He is one of the most polite young men I know, always saying "Thank you," "I'm sorry," and "Please" emphatically. However, if you listen carefully, in the very next sentence he will utter "She's a f-----g b---h" or "That scared the piss out of me."

This puts me in an awkward position as to whether or not to interpret his phrases verbatim when other staff ask for translations.

Contributed by Aryn.

Journey's End

A quote that struck me with truth:

"I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I intended to be."

--Douglas Adams-English humorist and science fiction novelist (1952-2001)

Contributed by Ann.

Movie Moment

As I was driving yesterday I had a movie moment. That’s what I’ve dubbed those moments in life when the universe is all perfectly in sync, those moments that are just too perfect and seem like they should be in a movie rather than real life. As I drove on listening to The Shins, the leaves fell in shimmering gold light, the trees swayed, and the birds flew off one by one all in perfect rhythm to the music. Magic.

Contributed by Sarah.

Sailor's Hat

Tacked onto a check from my daughter was the teaser that her daughter, our granddaughter, had worn her sailor hat all day at day-care. That's a feat of magnitude for a 20 month old gal. Visions of this "sailor hat" jauntily perched on her head as she whipped around all day tickled my funny bone. Course grandma had to send a hurried email requesting the story behind the sailor hat.

Being a free thinking spirit, she'd chosen to wear her Ariel outfit: blue jean capri's, t-shirt, and red sailor jacket with Little Mermaid embellishments on the lapels. She kept signing "HAT" so Mom went and found the sailor hat that goes with it tucked away from Mother's Day. Thinking that it wouldn't last very long, Mom took her to day care proudly attired. Wouldn't you know it, she wore it all day! :) She did take off the jacket though.

The next morning she was signing "BOAT". Uh-oh, maybe Dad's boat will have to make an impromptu visit to day care!

Contributed by Ann.

Cemetery Grass

My friend, Josh, and I were out in Boston not too long ago visiting our friend, Rachel. While she went in to work on Friday, Josh and I walked the Freedom Trail, a three-mile red-bricked path through historic Boston starting in Boston Commons and ending on Bunker Hill.


Along the way, we stopped off at the historic Granary Cemetery, the second oldest in the city. Groundskeepers were hard at work mowing the grass. As we waited for a group of school children to clear out from around Paul Revere's gravestone, I inhaled and smiled.


"Few things make me feel more alive than the smell of fresh-cut cemetery grass," I said.

The Office

The office to many means a TV series or a place of work. To me, it's an evasive term tossed as a refrain as my son heads out the door heading for Dunn Brothers to work or study.

It's a phrase his uncle coined for a place the locals gather at a restaurant in the morning to discuss the state of world affairs, weather, crops, and neighborhood gossip. It's a spot where conversation flows while gallons of coffee are sipped. Sarcastic quips volley between those gathered. Deals are struck. Bloodlines are verified. Bartering is done for services needed. The exchanges are heated and humorous with a twist of one-up-manship. It's the hot spot to organize a work crew, arrange a hasta outing, recruit membership for the local historical society, check on neighbors needing a helping hand, the cheapest gas prices, and who's in town visiting relatives. It's an informal site where much is accomplished drawing a caring community together informally to reflect on how the world turns.

I can hardly wait for my next "office" visit in my childhood home of Chosen Valley. A sloppy grin floods my face as I reminisce about the outlandish claims sprouted by the challenging group. A mental note to myself: I'll need to sharpen my wits to be ready for the next onslaught of city slicker barbs!

Contributed by Ann.