Weddings: the disasters

  

 Weddings--we have all have been there.

 

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Generally, at one time or another everyone manages to attend one or more weddings.  Pretty generic most of the time, but sometimes amazing things happen at weddings.  Not just the expensive wedding gown, flowers, etc. But surprising and memorable things.

At my own wedding, my-almost-husband fainted, dropped down like a sack of feed.  Down.  Out cold.  He was okay, we ended up married, so all was well.  However, my small town of 427 had years of stories like that. Our wedding, now 50 years past, is still remembered.

 

Then there are the melting cakes.  

I personally have been at three family weddings where the heat and humidity caused the cakes to droop with icing cascading down the layers. 

My sister’s cake—the layers nearly slid off each other, onto the table. It was June in Illinois, humid as a river running through the town.

  

My sis-in-law’s wedding in Chicago, mid-July, the icing was sagging and turning into a puddle.  

Same thing with another sis-in-law--pure sugar water fall. 

Some weddings are sunny mornings with the tent all set up, tables with tablecloths, with crowning wedding cake in the center of dance floor. 

  

Then a storm whips up, winds sweep, and all disappear into the manicured grass. Awesome. Have been in some storm reception in that.

 

But, the best part is the wedding cake.  I love eating wedding cake.  Skip the chicken and broccoli, let’s move on to the wedding cake.

Those weddings are the best—when something goes wrong and people have to problem solve.   

 

 

Those are the great.

 

Of course, the cake would be interesting, esp. when it is falling to the ground. I've been there.Saw it all. 

 

It didn't go well. 

 

Anyone out there have such a memorable wedding?

 

 

Our Babies with Their Babies

Since 2014, our son is married and has 2 small boys; Our youngest daughter
is married and has 2 sons. Our oldest daughter has two girls, cuddling up to us.

 

We were 10 years younger then, and many pounds heavier. Thankfully, we are thinner, and we are older; things hurt more.

On one trip to Switzerland allowed our three grown-up children and their off-spring to be together.  Like proud parents, we stood back and enjoyed their interactions.  They have grown so much, accomplished more than we or they expected, and become successful adults.

Even in our glowing observing, we could not help but notice that WE were also be observed. 

Christmas 2018 at Disneyland

Sitting in the family room (me on the floor) while we played cars and trucks with our grand kids, these three (with their spouses) leaned in closely, talking in low voices.  

Occasionally one would glance our way and then turn back to the group.  One would point at us.  One would indicate some body part where we were currently experiencing pain.  

All were serious.  Sympathetic. 

My husband suggested,  “They have great senior facilities here…”

I looked at my husband and him at me.  “You know,” I whispered, “Euthanasia is legal here in Switzerland.”

We looked back at our precious adult children.  They quickly looked away and moved to the kitchen.  

Then we resumed play with grandchildren.  Life is good as grandparents when there are Legos and toys available, and the children who have a glow about them.

Someday they will be sitting on the floor with their own grandchildren. Lucky people. Life is fun, life is good. 

Freedom! Freedom almost.

 

The door swung open to Samuel's home, where his parents also lived. The Mommy dropped the groceries on the table and tossed Samuel into the playpen. “Be right back!” Mommy whisked out the door.

Samuel waited, listened. He had the time, the strength, and he could do this. 

 

Throwing the blue pacifier over the railing, Samuel hoisted his shwweet whittle laygees over the railing and did a practiced roll. With his hands up for balance, Samuel began the newly discovered walking power: stagger-stagger-wobble. 

‘Focus, man, focus!’ The words hammered in his 14 month brain. ‘Ignore the Cheerios under the couch!”

Samuel reached the spot where he nailed Grammie with projectile vomit. She was  saying, “Gwamma wuvs dose shwweeet whittle legees…” Blaaaagh, and she was stopped. Good times.

Almost there, Samuel pictured the freedom:  chase the kitty, taste the flowers, squish mud. Such fine adventures, and he was almost there.

The Mommy swooped through the door and knocked over Samuel. She swept him up. “Mommy wuvs dose pwessus whittle laygees…”

Samuel tried to say, “Dammit woman! Can’t you speak the King’s English?” All that came out was a cry and some spit-up. The door swung shut.

Written 2012. Chronicles of Samuel blog site. 

Oh, how I love writing the unexpected.

 

Stinking hot at the school

 

Yesterday the temperature here in the upper desert was easily 107 degrees;  It depended what part of town one was in.  It was 111 in one part, and only 97 in another.    The sidewalks were empty,  no one was walking a dog or heading to the local market.  It was stinking hot.

Courtesy of Bing.com

I went to pick up my granddaughters from school.  Normally parents are mingling and talking about stuff.  The younger mothers are in their yoga outfits, with those cool shoes that are rounded on the sole.  They weren’t yesterday; they were almost naked, and they didn’t care one darn bit. 

Normally their little toddlers are toddling around, being so cute with drool and bits of crackers on their faces.  They weren’t yesterday.  No, the toddlers were crashed in their strollers, red-faced and miserable.  At least they had a bottle with something to drink.   

I wanted to steal the bottle, but the mother was watching me closely.

There was a silence that crackled; when it is that hot outside, I swear everything and everyone crackled.  The sidewalk was a pancake griddle; when I walked across it to get to the lunch area shade, the heat that rose from the griddle burned the hair off my legs.  I needed to shave them anyway.  The trees crackled, or perhaps it was the leaves that were crackling out their last bit of moisture. 

Other parents picking up students from school

We other miscellaneous adults were huddling under the lunch area shade.  No one spoke; we didn’t want to give up any last bit of spit to the dry air.  We all sat the same way:  arms akimbo, hands on knees, legs sprawled, head hung down.  It was the sight of misery, and none of cared one bit that we all looked like we had been dragged through sand, rolled in a tortilla, and toasted over a hot fire. 

My face must have given the image of one who was about to pass out.  I felt that way.  My cheeks were a shade of red that defies any color description, and the rest of my face was white, pasty white like Elmo’s glue white. 

Even the school children left their air-conditioned classroom like normal kids, but they crackled the moment they hit the outside air.  My granddaughters were silent as we walked to the car. 

‘Please, God.  Help me get to the car!’ I prayed. ‘I don’t want to pass out on the sidewalk.  They would send for an ambulance, and…wait, let me pass out on the sidewalk after all…” 

We made it to the car, just barely.  As the girls fastened the seat belts, I got the A/C cranked up to the last number, 4.  Why there isn’t a 5, 6, or 7, I don’t know.

 
I had forgotten I had left my iced coffee in the car.  The ice was melted, but the diluted coffee was cool.  I let the girls drink it all, Lord love them.  It wouldn’t sound good to hear in the news that a grandmother let her granddaughters pass out from dehydration, while she sipped on iced coffee.

The mass was ended, thanks be to God.

 

Patrick 

Lillian watched as her community went to mass. She grinned as the children raced around and parents led them into church.  There would be hope for the next generation. Friday was always a day which made her smile.  For it was then the fiends of the community raced to confession to be forgiven for their many sins.

 

 Lillian sighed since she knew them by name. She knew those sins by heart, as it was a common thing. She would be shocked if they did anything else. One was even an altar boy.  He carried a weight of sin which lay on him and he missed the sacramental wine. Dang.

 

Novices Anna and Mary had prepared the wine and cleaned up after.  The drink of the holy wine was taken by the fiends. As soon as the closing “The Mass is over. Thanks be to God. Go in peace. “The boys raced out of the sanctuary to the place up high where Ann and Mary waited. Kisses were beginning.

 

What they did was not surprising, not a shock though. Anna and Mary were not the novices as was thought.  As darkness began to drop. Lillian smiled, remembering her days as a novice. 

 

 Good times. 

 

The underlined segments are from Elephant's Child who manages to find or fineable words to challenge bloggers in Blogger world. Go to her site and see what people have done with these. 

I really enjoy challenges like these. These strangest words always provide lots of entertainment.