by jphilo | Jun 21, 2011 | Family
I’m a little on edge this week, trying to finish the edits on Different Dream Parenting and get it back to the editor by the June 27 deadline. But today’s recycled post from last June reminds me that book angst is much easier to deal with than wedding angst. This time last year I was worried about the yard, the flowers, the weather, and a whole bunch of other stuff, as this post from June 14, 2010 shows.
Yard Angst – Recycled
These days, I’m worrying about the yard. First, the warm April weather fooled the summer flowers into blooming two weeks early even though May turned cold. Now, a week of heavy rain and predictions of more to come put the whole state under a flood watch. So I’m looking for someone or something to blame for my daughter’s unshakable decision to have her wedding in our yard on July 11.
You see, the wedding has become a constant source of yard angst for me. Will all the flowers be done blooming before the wedding? If the rains continue, will the yard be a yishy, squishy mess? Will the creeping Charlie be too noticeable? Will the weeds in the flower beds take over? Will the weather be too hot, too cold, too wet, too dry, too windy, too still?
I found the perfect outlet for my yard angst. It’s the young red oak in our yard. We planted in during Anne’s childhood. She waited year after patient year for the sapling to get big enough to climb, which she did frequently once her dad declared it a tree. Since then, it’s gotten big enough to cast a respectable amount of shade on hot, summer days. And on cool fall afternoons, it glows red and glorious. Despite its usefulness and beauty, between now and the wedding, I plan to blame it for my yard angst every single day.
After all, it’s a perfect whipping post. When I start railing about the wedding, it can’t walk away. It can’t spout off a snappy comeback or argue with my logic. It’s too flexible for straight line winds to snap it, too deeply rooted for a flood to wash it away, and too far from the house to fall on it during a tornado.
Ahh, I’m beginning to understand why Anne fell in love with her tree. Not enough to climb the darn thing (no need for height angst to keep the yard angst company), but enough to go along with her romantic whim. At least until the next round of yard angst sets in.
How much longer until July 11?
by jphilo | Sep 20, 2010 | Daily Life
This past weekend’s abrupt switch from summer to fall was hard to believe. After all, over Labor Day, our family gathered for boating and swimming, and to throw cousins in the the lake – all the good stuff that accompanies warm summer days and nights.
But Saturday evening Hiram and I, along with scores of other guests, sat shivering and dodging raindrops at an outdoor wedding. Our teeth chattered in rhythm with the processional. Steely-eyed bridesmaids willed away goosebumps and walked down the aisle, their bouquets dewy fresh and trembling in the cold. The bride, tall and calm, came down the aisle escorted by her parents. The weather bothered her and the groom not one bit. They had eyes for each other only, and by the end of the chilly ceremony, they were as married as they would have been in a warm, dry church.
After the festivities, Hiram and I went home to a chilly house and turned on the furnace. “Hard to believe,” I said, “that we need the heater this early in the fall.” The house was still nippy the next morning, so I turned up the heat a tad before we went to church. Surely, it would be warmer there.
It wasn’t.
Apparently, the custodial staff at the the high school, where we meet for Sunday services, found the weather forecast hard to believe, and hadn’t bothered to turn on the furnace. By the end of church, I couldn’t feel my toes.“At least it will be warmer when we get home.” I hurried to the car.
But it wasn’t.
“Must have turned up the night thermostat instead of the day control.” I fiddled with the dial again, made a cup of hot tea, and put on another sweater. “Hard to believe it’s supposed to be 85 tomorrow.”
“Well, today it’s freezing in here.” Hiram checked the thermostat. “Only 66 degrees.” He went down to check the furnace and discovered the pilot light wouldn’t turn on. “You better call the furnace guy tomorrow,” he suggested. “Gonna be a cold night tonight.”
But it wasn’t.
The outdoor temperature rose throughout the night, and by morning it was nearly as warm outside as in. By midmorning, it was muggy and humid outside. But the house was cool and dry. Quite comfortable, in fact, though the temperature was no higher than during my shiverfest the day before. Hard to believe a call the furnace guy could be necessary or wise.
But it was.
And though it’s hard to believe, when the next cold snap comes and our pilot light behaves correctly, I’ll be thankful for the weather’s brief flirtation with fall.
It’s hard to believe that the bride and groom will be be quite so grateful for the turn the weekend’s weather took. But they can be proud of this: for all who attended, their wedding will be one of the most memorable ever.
It certainly was.
by jphilo | Aug 25, 2010 | Uncategorized
The wedding pictures have arrived. This photo won’t give you a close up of the newlyweds’ big smooch, though believe me, they were enjoying themselves. It won’t provide a good look at the wedding party, though I can attest to the loveliness of the bridesmaid and personal attendant as well as to the handsomeness of the groomsmen.
But it will maintain the young couple’s privacy, which is important to them. And you can see the beautiful woods that ringed the pavilion where they married. You can see my daughter, small and white, embraced by her tall groom. You can see the dresses and the vests glowing under the July sun, just as Anne hoped they would. You can see my sweet daughter and her new husband surrounded by friends and family we hope will walk with them throughout their lives, long after we are gone. You can see the leaps of young joy as the bride and groom kiss.
You can see much, but there is so much more the photograph doesn’t show – the challenges yet to come, the joys to be experienced and adventures to be shared, and the affirmation of God’s presence, through the every day happenings of life. Those things are waiting beyond the edges of the photograph, to be captured on another day, with a different lens.
But for today, this picture, this memory of the beginning of their life together, is enough.
It is more than enough.
It is joy.
by jphilo | Jul 13, 2010 | Daily Life
After a week of wedding company, Hiram and I took only a day to adjust to having the house to ourselves again. So imagine our surprise this morning when we discovered an unexpected guest on our doorstep.
I mean that literally. When I went to shut the French door in the dining room, which I’d opened earlier to let in some fresh air, a chubby, warty toad graced our doorstep, frantically trying to reach the patio. His original plan to spring out the joint was a no go, since he had neither the weight or momentum to bust through the screen door. Now and then he hopped up high enough to cling to the screen, a la Garfield the cat, and hang suspended. Highly entertaining for us, but Mr. Toad didn’t laugh.
We should have expected the warty visitor. Toads have been especially abundant this summer. I’ve shooed a fair number of toads out of the screened porch and garage. Even before the wedding crowd arrived, the yard’s been awash with other wanna be house guests – a bat or two in the attic, some small critter using the screened in porch as an outhouse, a muskrat under the porch, and wasps in the garage. Yesterday twin fawns decided the coast was clear, escaped from their mother, and gamboled about our quiet yard for several minutes. Then Mom arrived and put an end to their fun, leading them to the woods where they disappeared.
But back to the toad hanging on the screen door. I was not happy to see him as I’m done hostessing for the time being. And how do you show a toad hospitality anyway? Are they big on small talk? Where do they like to sleep? Do they use hand towels? Remember to flush? What do they eat? I have no answers to these questions and don’t want to do the research.
Finally, we showed the little fella some mercy and opened the screen door so he could hop free. He didn’t move. Finally, Hiram gave him a little toe nudge and our house guest ran, er, hopped for the hills. Of course we don’t have hills, just a gently slopping brick patio, but “hopped for the hills” sounds so much more dramatic and uses alliteration, so I couldn’t resist.
Hopefully Mr. Toad will spread the word.
This house is no fun.
The party’s over.
The food is bad.
And wedding crowd, if you had a good time here and plan on coming back some day, please keep your mouths shut about the weekend fun.
Especially around toads.
by jphilo | Jul 12, 2010 | Family
Wow! After weeks of planning and wedding tasks that bumped real life activities to the bottom of my to do list, the wedding of our daughter and new son is history. More details will be forthcoming, once I’m not so tired I nod off the minute I’m not moving, and more pictures will be posted once my sweet cousin assigned to taking candid shots has time to download and send them, but for today here are a few highlights:
- Sunday morning’s rain tipped the scales in favor of moving the wedding ceremony to the pavilion in the park. Though the weather improved as the day progressed and the sun was shining for the ceremony, we were glad of the change in venue. The gnats and mosquitoes were bothersome, even in the pavilion. They would have been unbearable in our yard.
- The bride was lovely and her new husband handsome. But their outward appearance is nothing compared to the maturity of their love for one another. We are so grateful our daughter has such a devoted husband who appreciates who she is.
- The flower lady, also known as my sister, outdid herself with the flowers. Who knew Queen Anne’s lace and purple cone flowers, combined with greenhouse roses and gladiolas could be so lovely?
- The work done by the reception planner, also known as my friend Diana, was a gift I can never repay. She took a load off my shoulders by organizing food, materials, and workers…the day before heading to LaCrosse, Wisconsin for her last week of graduate school.
- My long time son and new daughter deserve hugs and kisses for decorating the reception pavilion while I rode herd on the bride and bridesmaids back at the ranch until the ceremony.
- We are blessed with loving family – from our new son’s parents and siblings pitching in to my sister doing the flowers, from one of my cousin’s daughters teaching ballroom dancing at the reception to the cousin who took the pictures, from my brother staying late to help Hiram load and return tables to everyone who participated in Anne and her husband’s joy.
- We are blessed with a loving church family, young and old – sisters and brothers in Christ who came early and stayed late, contributed food, served food, helped with sound equipment, acted silly in the photo booth, hugged our children, and joined in the dancing and merriment.
Such fun. Such memories. Such a support system for us and such strength to lift our sweet children into adulthood. So many blessings. So much grace.
Our cup runneth over.
We are so grateful.
We are so blessed.
Thank you, dear God of all blessing.
