Kelly In Catty

This blog is Kell's attempt to keep in touch with friends far away who complain that I don't e-mail nearly enough.

Monday, May 21, 2007

And Now We Are

Ok. It's all been settled. I said, "I will..." So did Dave. We both will... And now, we are. I thought it would be fun to give you a rundown of the day's events - and then some of Dave's and my reflections:

The day started very quietly. Three strangers came and pitched a 20' x 30' tent in the backyard. Shortly after, my parents showed up, hauling 20 hanging baskets of purple and white pansies. The tent spanned the width of my backyard - which meant my landscaping became a wall of green, flowing decoration on one side of the tent. Within minutes, the rest of the outdoor ballroom became one mass of purple and white. I had to admit - it looked kind of pretty.

While we transformed the outdoors, I wrote out a some cards to my sisters (my last-minute bridesmaids), and gift bagged their necklaces. Dave and I wrote a card to his Best (wo)man, his daughter, (and now my stepdaughter), the lovely and 16-year old Paula. I bagged her a necklace too.

Then, the whirlwind began. My hairdresser, Kelly Jo showed up. It kind of went like this. Picture my mother sitting at the pub table in my kitchen... Me in front of her, and HurricaneKellyJo - well, she was running late: "KELLY, I'M LATE FOR MY DAUGHTER'S RECITAL. SHE THINKS I DON'T LOVE HER BECAUSE I'M HERE INSTEAD OF DOING HER MAKEUP, BUT I'M GOING TO CALL MY HUSBAND AND SEE IF HE CAN JUST TAKE HER TO THE SCOTTISH RIGHT CATHEDRAL AND MEETMETHERE...." and so on... Picture, while she's doing this, she's teasing my hair up so hard and with such enthusiasm, my mother couldn't help but laugh at the pained face I was making... I think my hair actually got a little longer in that moment.

In a few minutes, she was done - and I looked pretty good. She then, in all of her lateness, pulled out this brush full of sparkly powder, and "pixie dusted" me... Then my mom. My father walks in the room, just as the very air in my kitchen has taken on a very Tinker-Bell glow...

Now - I have to tell this story too - my father is bald on top - and seems to get a kick out of suggesting he has hair. To Kelly Jo, he said, "So, do you think you can do something with my hair?"

He got a crown full of pixie powder.

As I was thinking I really ought to get dressed, Dave's family arrived. I gave them a house tour. Dave's father, 83, stayed downstairs, and busied himself with the TV remote. (NOTE: I don't know if I told you that one of the mistakes I made when buying this house was purchasing Direct TV. Dave is a baseball super fan (yeah, I don't get it either) - and in some weird twist of fate, DIRECT TV doesn't carry Philadelphia Comcast... so no Sacred Phillies games for us - at least not most of the time. We do get them whenever they play Atlanta, because DIRECT TV does carry TBS. It also carries Comcast Chicago, so we can catch the Phils when they're playing the Cubs...) OK. As fate would have it, one of the local Philadelphia networks was carrying a special game. Dave's father quickly settled into the second inning, and I was at last, free to get dressed.)

This left decisions going on downstairs to be made without me. The caterer showed up, and had to decide all on his own, where to set up the chairs for the ceremony. (Thank goodness for this - as I had no opinion on the matter, and may have imploded had I been asked... seriously.)

By the time I changed, Paula had arrived, looking much better than I (she's just cute... I'm used to it! tee hee) - and the yard had turned into wedding central - with beautiful linen tables, my fish-bowl centerpieces (fishbowl, beaded wire and glass rocks with floating Gerbera Daisy Head). The caterer brought a floral arrangement - no check that. TWO floral arrangements that I hadn't ordered (Testament to our 15-year friendship - what a doll!) And they were HUGE... And amazing.)

Dave and I were now host to a full house - of my family, his family, my friend, Glenn, the EC minister, his wife, and two of my friends (I invited two non-family members, friends of Glenn and his wife, Pam - to keep them company). My friend Stephanie thought I should have favors, so she took it upon herself to make me 50 little packs - each with a chocolate coated, rice crispy treat banjo and a white chocolate coated rice crispy treat guitar. They were amazing. It's hard to believe that a rice crispy treat could bring a tear to one's eye, but it was the sweetest thing (no pun intended) that I could imagine... That, and huge floral arrangement gifts.

Ceremony: Went fairly hitch free. Dave's brother played beautiful tunes on the guitar as I walked the "aisle" with my Dad... I was feeling slightly over-photographed as I faced Dave, realizing for the first time what all the fuss was about. There he was - marrying me - and in all the hubbub, the pre-marital counseling (another post - remind me), the crazy planning, and the near death of my hair, due to violent teasing. Not only did he look good, he wasn't running away...

And that's how I became a Mrs.

OK. Highlights of the day:

The dessert table was in my living room. Apparently, my mother caught Dave's father actually pocketing cookies. Pocketing in his suit coat... Dave, amused, quipped, "He's a sweets-aholic."

This must've happened sometime before my brother-in-law came in to keep the man company. They spent the afternoon talking about how much they hate the Yankees.

The other funny story about Dave's dad is this: Well before Dave and I fed each other cake, My new father-in-law requested a slice of cheesecake. Dave acquiesced and gave him a slice... He reported later, "I thought you might be angry that my Dad got cake before we did - but then I remembered who I married..." (aw!)
I had a lot of kids at my wedding - so I thought it might be a good idea to give them as much sugar as humanly possible before sending them home. So not only did they have cheesecake (and whatever survived The Great Cookie Heist), But I bought marshmallows, Hershey Bars, and Graham Crackers so the kids could make s'mores (My favorite dessert EVER) in our fire-pit-patio table (photos to follow). My nephew, TJ, who is the most linear thinker I've ever met, accidentally set his marshmallow on fire. Not wanting a charred S'more, he carried the burning marshmallow to the trashcan, and attempted to dump it into a full trashcan. My sister yelled "TJ, Don't DO THAT!" Thankfully, TJ paused for a moment - in order to tell his mother," What?!!! I don't want a burnt marshamallow!!!!" He then proceeded to try and remove the torch fuel from the torch... Again - Thankfully, the force of his banging the stick on the trashcan somehow extinguished the flame before he set the plastic trash can on fire.

I immediately appointed my other nephew, Matt, as the one who, with the fire poker, helped scrape burned marshmallows into the fire pit - right where they belonged.

Oh. The ring. I forgot. Dave goes to put the wedding ring on my ring finger. It would have gone very smoothly had I not left my signet ring (a present from my HS graduation) on that same finger. I kind of giggled - and hoped the audience hadn't noticed. When Glenn said his closing prayer, I switched the un-wedding ring to my right hand.

Photos soon. I promise.


  • At 1:21 PM, Blogger Trixie said…

    The ring thing...has happend at the last 4 weddings I have attended...heehee

  • At 7:48 PM, Anonymous DF said…

    Many grand years to the both of you. Huzzah. Huzzah.


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