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We are finally home from Nashville, and the Samurai's dad, the Preacher (aka Doodah), is at last MARRIED. When last you heard from yours truly, the trip to Nashville was about to commence. After a brief delay for a brake job, we set out for the Country Music Capital of the Galaxy. Got there at about 3:30 AM. We were awakened EARLY the next two days by the Preacher rattling around, preparing to assign jobs. The wedding was to be held at the bottom of the hill, on Dad's lovely four-acre grounds. The barbecue and pool party would take place up near the house. Problem was, the yard was pretty overgrown and the basement and deck were a mess. Dad is still moving in, and stuff was everywhere. We all took stock, and started working. The Pilot (the Samurai's brother), the Samurai, and the offspring ( nephews Chando and Bales, and niece Elbone) got yard detail after the original volunteer yard crew bailed out. For the kiddos, this turned into pool duty. The Pilot has a sore back, so he got the scary job of mowing the steep hillside. (His veins flow with pure adrenaline anyway. Really.) The Samurai weed-whacked, pausing periodically to have me confirm the presence of poison ivy. Sister-in-law Bess and I painted the downstairs bathroom, which had a coat of primer slapped on new wallboard, but no real paint. It looked yucky, and it was the bathroom most likely to be used by barbecue guests. We also packed away the basement clutter, and I scored a mostly-new Pfaff sewing machine that Dad wanted to get rid of. (I now have three. I think I'll start a sweatshop.) Soon, the Preacher's brother Ted and his wife Trudy showed up, with Aunt Kat and her grown son Erek. We were glad to see them, because the wedding decorations were going up, and things were getting interesting. The wedding arch was procured by Miss Inez's daughter Mindy, a take-charge kind of gal. She delivered arch, columns, stakes, and fake flowers in urns, but had to leave. This meant setup was the job of the groom's female relations. Ever set up a poorly welded metal arch on a steep slope? In hundred-degree weather? We braced the thing with rocks, and were in the process of raising it to stake it in, when BOTH welds holding one of the sections together broke. Trudy and I gasped at it in horror, then I went back up the hill for pliers, wire, metal bits, tape, and any other stuff I could find. Two big nails (as cross braces) and a lot of clear tape later, the arch was whole and firmly staked. After lots more pounding, the columns and aisle stakes were in and leveled. (I bashed a brick apart with our little sledghammer to make shims. Boy, that felt good.) Then the big cheesy ornamental pot on one of the fake arrangements got dropped and shattered. Uh-oh. Guess who got to go to WalMart and get new flowerpots? And ringbearer pillows? And satin ribbon? Miraculously, the wedding day dawned clear and cool. The yard was a sweep of green punctuated by neatly trimmed shrubbery. The ceremony area was swathed in white tulle and flowers. A majestic wedding cake, made by aunts Kat, Trudy, and Lucy, commanded the deck. The big smokers were filled with chicken, ribs, and corn. All of the Preacher's children were in the wedding. The Samurai was best man, with the Pilot and Dad's pal Andy as groomsmen. Bess and I were barefoot bridesmaids, Chando and Bales were ringbearers (a very cool job for LoTR fanatics), and Elbone was the flower fairy prin--er, flower girl. Miss Inez came down the hill on Mindy's arm, regal in cream and floral satin. Butterflies wafted around us as Dad and Inez recited their vows. There wasn't a dry eye in the yard. Much merriment ensued afterwards, at the cookout. The Preacher danced on the table, kids swarmed the Samurai, and we all ate and ate and talked with long-missed relations. Aunt Reve (a retired special-ed teacher) and I told teacher horror stories, and we toasted the bride and groom with gusto. Now we have a Doo-mah to go with Doodah! Book on tape for this trip: Angels and Demons by Dan Brown. Lots of language anguish in this one, including overuse of the word "niche." We recommend sceeching,"Neeeetch!" every time you hear it. Guaranteed to keep any driver awake. |
 
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Doo-mah!