Moonin'

We're off on our grand adventure. I'm taking notes and pictures to give you a full report. I hope Ari has her wedding pictures by the time I get back so I can share those with you too. Boy I can't wait to see those. In the meantime, enjoy the big thankful meals and cozy, long-weekend things.

We're making some gut busting' memories.

As Of Late

It was a year ago this week that we found this little place. So much has gone on since then.

With the grand finale that was Ari and Nate's wedding this past weekend, I'm now "off duty" until February. I haven't really had a chance yet to decompressed and go, "Oh boy, I'm done for the year!" because there are too many things going on. I reckoned I'd do a year recap type of blog post next month to actually detail all the things that went on in 2018 that I've not acknowledged on the blog space. You know I like for this to be a happy place (except for the hateful thoughts I produced back during my college sentence).

Brett prepares to leave for the day. Both pups get a floor cuddle after breakfast. 

For now I'll tell you that my house and garage are a wreck and that Brett and I have not yet worked out how to properly buy and use groceries for two. I've "elevated" (word I've been using a lot lately - not sure I like it) my Lux & U marketing tactics and with that comes lots of frustrating phone calls to Google and pretentious emails from wedding listing companies that fancy themselves more than a glorified phone book.

Brett and I have taken my new nephews to a pumpkin patch, met Ellen's latest boyfriend (we really like him), danced foolishly at Ari's wedding, eaten lots of baked goods, and had a few days where we got to leave the windows open. Brett's folks have bought a plot of land about two miles away and will be moving to James Island in June. Ellen is throwing in the towel at the lawyer's office and starting nursing school January. We think this is a good choice. Ellen is the best combination of compassionate and bossy. She'll be able to feel for the sick people and then tell them to shut up and drop their pants, or whatever sticky, humiliating things they make you do. Mom is excited to have a medical person in the family to answer our scary medical questions. I'm excited about Ellen wearing scrubs.

EisenEars hangs my new kitchen plants. 

Today is Brett and my last day of work before we leave for our honeymoon. We didn't strategically plan our trip over Thanksgiving but now that we're headed out of town, it does feel like a bit of bustle that we get to skip, though I'll admit that ole T-gives is my favorite holiday.
But I'd say we'll sure enjoy a break from the bustle.

Pippa joins me at the office. 

A Girls Weekend in Lake Lure

A few weekends ago, Ari and I ventured up the road to North Carolina for a cozy bachelorette weekend. There were nine of us, all from different stages of Ari's schooling - except me, I'm just the neighbor girl. She had elementary-school friends, high-school friends, college friends and grad-school friends coming from a handful of different states to celebrate and breathe some fresh, mountain air together. Because Ari is a collection of interesting, perplexing, and inspiring characteristics, the gaggle of gals present that weekend felt like a carefully curated reserve of people you want in your corner. The smarts, the wit, the confidence. It was all there, bubbling up and overflowing from each lovely girl that loves my dear Ari. I felt loved for Ari. 

We stayed in a family friend's lake house and cooked cozy meals, drank wine from a box, and mostly just told stories. The occupations of each attendee are as follows: family doctor, nurse, surgery tech, three landscape architects, teacher, stem-cell researcher .... and a florist. I spent much of my time that weekend pretending to know what they were talking about, completely astounded by their knowledge and memory of things they learned in school. I picked up on about two of fourteen or so references to American history. There was lots of icky medical jargin and remarks about assorted pharmaceuticals that I've never heard of but everyone else already knew with a comfortable familiarity. I suppose they had filed it all away properly when they heard about it in those real schools they went to. I looked up words on my phone when no one was around. 

I told stories injected with accents and bathroom humor and when everyone filed up for bed and I got to share a room with Ari, I found myself feeling like the queen's jester, undeserving of the honor and unsure why she keeps me around.

When we got there Friday afternoon, there were four of us to keep each other company until everyone else arrived that night. Since we were all rotating being in charge of meals, we had each submitted a grocery list ahead of time that the four of us took on as an exciting Friday night challenge. We piled into a car and drove to the grocery store to shop for the weekend. One of the girls, the stem-cell researcher who lives in NYC, was blown away by the grocery store. It was notably large but I suppose when you only shop in city bogotá's it would seem especially grandiose. She wandered the overstocked aisles with her mouth open and would run up to us with excitement when they had some bizarre item she can never find back in the city. I liked watching her experience the grocery store. We filled a cart to the brim (it was embarrassing) and took wagers on how much three days of food for nine people was going to cost. Ari won. She can do anything.

We wheeled our cart up to the checkout line and sorely incensed the two high-school kids at the counter. The girl scanning the items shook her head side to side as she scanned and the bag boy wouldn't look at us but mumbled while he bagged. He also seemed annoyed and confused by the canvas grocery bags we asked him to use, insisting that some items needed to be in plastic bags and becoming disgruntled when Stem-cell would take things out of his bags and put them into our bags. "What's he not getting about this?"

 Later we decided that the check-out girl and the bag-boy had some tension in their relationship, possibly a recent break-up, and we had a great time filling in the details of that dubious tale. We holed up in the house and made chili and corn bread while more gals trickled in, chatting and listening to tunes until bedtime.

On Saturday morning, Ari and a few brave souls jumped into the chilly lake for a polar plunge. I made Laurie Hon's breakfast casserole and it was the only dish that weekend that had no leftovers. 

That afternoon we went for a hike in the hills and found lots of waterfalls, neat plants, and rock statues. It was damp and chilly so I enjoyed watching each girl and her own reaction to things. The landscapers were intrigued by fungi and mosses, the med-crew was cold, and the teacher was unexpectedly gung-ho about scrambling up slippery rocks for a better view. 

We came home to hot showers, naps, cider, and more stories. I'd love to share some with you but they are unladylike tales: things detailing people's reasons for emergency room visits and embarrassing things that happen when you're unconscious in a surgery lab. There were also great tales from the college days that had us shrieking with a combination of disgust and hysterics and the neighbor came outside to see what was going on. These are the great things in the life that you'll always remember... or at least vaguely recall when your grandchild asks you what you did for your bachelorette party way back when.

"Well, we went to the mountains..."

The Good Stuff

This post is photo heavy because these are the happiest photos, free of nerves and any "looming" activities. When you scroll through other people's photos of dancing friends, it means very little to you. When you know all the grinning faces in the pictures, they really warm your heart.

Wait! Before I get started.
After the ceremony, I noticed that Ms. Pigglesworth had made it to the party. I'm glad I didn't notice her while Don was talking. I caught Will Hon moving Wilhelmina many times throughout the day and was shocked and slightly frightened to find her on the front porch when Brett and I finally went home that night.

Alright. I'm ready.
Post ceremony was a short little cocktail chunk. During this time, Brett and I ambled out to the dock for more photos while our favorite folks mingled and snacked. We booted Will and Katie off the dock for sunset photos (which I felt badly about) but somehow one of our favorites, Drew, wound up out there with us and then got trapped and had to hide behind columns to stay out of the pictures. After while he took it upon himself to make sure we were fed and he reappeared with "carefully curated plates."

During the planning process, Brett opted out of helpful opinions and encouraged a "steampunk" themed wedding day.
"I'll wear a top hat and use a cane. You can wear goggles."
I'd ask for thoughts on linen colors and he'd suggest velvet with a ruffled trim.
"How can we incorporate light-machinery?"
As a little surprise, I tied some tiny gears to his boutonnière. He was not as amused as I thought he'd be.

Meanwhile, back in the yard...

Brett and I came in to eat our curated meals around the same time speeches started. I sat with sweaty palms while Brett was red in the face and we listened to nice words from our family members. Landon, Brett's best friend and the other half of his college Avett Brothers cover band, sang our first dance song... an Avett Brothers tune. Dad really tickled himself while we were dancing. Weeks back when I told Dad we were going to cram our first dance and the father-daughter and the mother-son dance all into one song, Dad objected and said that a two minute tune for all of that was too short. I disagreed. Watching other people slow dance take ages but I compromised by having Landon sing all the verses of the song instead of skipping a few like I had planned.
Dad hadn't been up there dancing with me for thirty seconds when he said, "We've been up here forever. When does this song ever end?"
I reminded him that he's the reason we still have two minutes of dancing time left and when he realized this was all his fault, he let out a very loud guffaw and then we both got the giggles. Folks thought we were having a tender moment but we were just hold back belly laughs.

After this, the dancing started,

We cut our perfect, little cake,

and then there were wigs.

 What tickled me most was how readily the wigs were accepted by everyone. I figured a small percentage of folks would partake in the silliness and I was so delighted to see serious old-folks dancing with their new dos. I did worry about the afros appearing slightly racist to the band. I thought about that a lot actually and was very hopeful that they took note of the many caucasian hairstyles that were also up for grabs. Someone put a wig on Wilhelmina and I saw the singer girl give a strange look to no one. I wondered what the band thought about us.

The dancing reception is a whirlwind of hugs and sweaty, smiling faces. It was awfully humid but I saw the sweatiness factor as a great thing. When everyone is sweaty, you don't feel so bad about being sweaty yourself. I held sweaty hands and kissed sweaty faces. I hugged drenched people goodbye and I loved it. This was the BEST day and I'd like to go again please.

Brett and I stayed until the very end, when the remaining people were Unions, Guys, Honbarriers and members of The Crew. I didn't want to go home but oh how I wanted to go to sleep. I was exhausted. The most happy kind of exhausted.

Taylor Rae Photography