Weekend Wrapup: (written the weekend prior)
It had been a rather atypical week, starting with the usual late-night lodge activities M-W evolving into a Moline trip Thursday, topped off with more late night work with Cara that evening, buttressed with pizza and laundromat chores. On the upside: free beer. Having been tired hours prior, it was after 11 when we got home. Friday, then, I scheduled a half day to make up for the time shifted to Brittni's evening wedding festivities. Spent the afternoon at the lodge tiring myself out; home for a much needed cleanup and a good sit.
The rain started about that time, but couldn't dampen the spirits of my sister's rehearsal dinner at island park. The food and bev's really hit the spot and there wasn't a soul that didn't enjoy themselves. Cara and I pressed on at 8 for a PL meeting with Cam and Ben, Cam and I sticking it out after Ben tired of cut-throat. Pretty decent eve no matter how you slice it.
Saturday was the big day. We headed over to the house and jumped right into the chaos to prepare for the reception. Utter madness, but I like it that way. Everybody had their own idea of how a job was to be done, and many forgot this was not their wedding…or even immediate family they were dealing with. Must've been a dozen people working in the kitchen, a dozen more in back moving tables, laying out flowers, setting up tiki torches, moving tables again when someone wasn't looking, etc. Thankfully, both the dance floor and large tent had been set up the day prior, and practically came to blows I hear. Despite the best efforts of covering the parquet floor, Friday night's rain had found it's way onto the surface. We set forth dismantling the whole thing, drying both sides of the soaked panels in the sun and reassembling elsewhere in the yard. Not an easy process.
The sky did finally clear, all arrangements were in place, and the ceremony went off without a hitch, including a sermon prepared by the groom's dutch friend/pastor Tim. As getaway-driver, and Cara as my co-pilot, we took the bride and groom downtown, tin cans trailing behind us, rice everywhere, horns a blowing, leading two cars in-tow with the bridesmaid and her BF, and the bestman and his GF from Holland. I parked the car and strolled into the Stuffed Olive after dropping everyone off out front, only to find the group standing around in front of the bar, dressed to the nines, with odd looks on their faces. Why? The server demanded ID from the bride. Seriously. This was also news to the Europeans who found the concept of ID'ing very foreign. I made it clear this was ridiculous, and lead the wedding party out front, along the street where two men with guitars began seranading the group, and marched everyone into the Blueroom for a line of shots! Red-headed sluts. The Euro's loosened a bit and after a quick jaunt through Cedar City, we hit the reception where the party went well past 2 I hear. The band from Minneapolis was fantastic, you couldn't have asked for better weather, and everybody had a great time in the backyard. Upon arrival, rose petals covered the driveway and candles in bags lined the edges leading everyone up to, and around, the house where a thousand+ white xmas lights glimmered in the twilight.
Sunday, up and at 'em. I forewent any lodgework to help with the day-long teardown of the backyard, punctuated by socializing with other close family on the deck, and enjoying reception leftovers. The evening brought a heated bocce ball competition, culminating in a post-meal walk about twilight, and total collapse back at the apartment. 10,000 other things surely elapsed, too, but this entry is boring enough without additional assistance.
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