On the other hand, the hugging, et al, is very nice. I had a really good day yesterday, working on wedding stuff. I found and installed new buttons on the wedding dress. I finished, really and truly stick in a fork in me I’m done finished, the corsages. I scored a dozen red pseudo-velvet bows at Michael’s on Christmas closeout at 59 cents apiece, as opposed to the box of pre-made wedding bows (white) for $49.99. Feeling a little smug about that.
Friday night I picked up the cake tower. The box was open. I put it in Lorelai’s trunk and headed to Lane Bryant, where I bought four new bras (one comfy but colorful, three racy) and five pairs of coordinating panties [reminds me of the old joke: six beautiful chorus girls, five beautiful costumes]. All of which are divvied up into gallon Ziploc bags and stowed in the honeymoon bag.
From thence to downtown BigD, armed with my driving directions. Which didn’t work. I stopped at the office, changed into a dress and confirmed directions with the security dude, and tried again. No such luck. I drove around for about half an hour, as it was getting darker and darker, and the neighborhood was getting scarier and scarier, and I was getting hungry and tired and more frustrated and finally just plain scared. So I called Beloved and headed to his house, where he held me until I stopped twitching.
Then we took the cake tower out of the box and started to play with putting it together, which is when we discovered that seven pieces were missing and it had been used: telltale green smear of icing on one of the support pieces, and more green icing on the assembly sheet. I took it back yesterday and got a refund and another 50% off coupon, which I will use tomorrow at another location. (I had bought the only box that store had.)
Dinner last night was baked potatoes, baked cod, his veggie sautee, and a small bowl of posole which the neighbors had brought over. Hominy is a sad thing to do to a perfectly good kernel of corn, but posole goes a long way toward redeeming it. Dessert was a sliver each of two test cakes when we came home from the dance. These would be contenders 3 and 4 for our wedding cake. The spice cake rose wonderfully and tastes better-than-OK. The carrot cake did not rise well, but the flavor is terrific. Tomorrow he is going to combine a box of each and see if we get the height of the spice cake and the flavor and moisture of the carrot cake. If so, that will be the wedding cake. And we have a friend in his ward who used to bake cakes, so she can loan us her cake leveler and a 12” pan.
I have bought the long tablecloths for the banquet tables, also the forks and the napkins, and priced out the rest of the stuff we need. I have transferred the information from our eVites into a spreadsheet, and I need to go into FB and pull that information as well, and then have Beloved add to it from the responses he has received.
He is snoozing quietly on the bed (they look so innocent when they are asleep). I am getting my internet fix.
What to say about the dance last night. The decorations were lovely: Christmas trees of varying heights, grouped in twos and threes, festooned only with white fairy lights. The food was good as well, a nice mixture of healthy and festive. I found several things that I could eat with a clear conscience. The music? Well, the younger generation seemed to enjoy it. We left about 9:40, in part because we were both tired, and also because the music was too loud and we had already hugged all or most of our friends.
Came back here, tried the cakes, visited quietly until it was midnight, then he kissed me, and I drove home. Two major wrecks on LBJ between one exit and the next, and I think a total of four during the course of the evening. I barely, barely made it home awake, falling into bed about 1:30 and getting approximately five hours of sleep. I tried to catch a catnap after church while Beloved was dealing with the tithing at church, but no such luck.
I am going to have to catch a few winks before I try to drive home again tonight.
Tomorrow night I am going to eat churrascaria with Brother Sushi, retrieve my spare key from Secondborn, and pack as many boxes as humanly possible between sunup and bedtime. I’ve already alerted the neighbors that there will be unusual cars and unusual activity chez moi for the next several weeks, and why.
And oh? I volunteered to teach Relief Society next Sunday. That will keep my mind on scriptures instead of honeymoon, but I’ve gotta tell you, a sixteen year old has nothing on me in terms of the-sap-is-rising.
So glad that I only have 13 days (almost, only 12) of this crazy commute, and then I can settle in chez Beloved. We are getting our license on Tuesday morning.
I am the poster child for crazy-tired. And I am heading out to the kitchen for more water, and thence to the AARP website, because the Sudoku is calling my name.
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!