July 22, 2010
My sister found her wedding dress today! She had narrowed it down to two by the time I got down there today. I knew instantly when she put the first one on that that was the dress. But I was very curious about the second one… I couldn’t imagine her looking more radiant than the first one. It was a tough competition – the second one was just as gorgeous and she looked just as lovely. (Can feel the eyes getting a little prickly right now thinking of my baby sis walking down the aisle. Scuse me for a second, while I do the Southern Lady eye fan and regain composure.)
Both dresses were made for her, but the first one was it.
I can’t wait til June 18th, 2011.
July 20, 2010
My mom and sister arrive from New York tonight! I wonder if my Mom knows what she’s getting into.
It has been really, really, really hot here. Really hot.
I’m going to cook flat-iron steaks with a balsamic vinegar reduction sauce tonight. I really like saying “reduction sauce” because it sounds fancy, but it really just involves leaving something liquid on the stove for a long time until about half of it evaporates.
When you do that accidentally it’s called “getting distracted.” BUT, call it a reduction sauce and suddenly it sounds fancy.
My mom and sis will head on down to Charlotte on Wednesday, where they have wedding dress shopping plans all day. I’ll join them Thursday, to hopefully help narrow down some finalists.
Friday, my mom will return to me where I shall put her to work helping me get ready for our garage sale on Saturday. Like I said, I wonder if my Mom knows what’ she’s herself into.
I think some gene gets activated when you have kids that makes you suddenly and selflessly okay with doing what would otherwise be intolerable activities, all because your sweet precious babies asked. I mean, I adore the Budster but he’s never asked me to help him move, organize a kitchen, iron a shirt, pick him up from softball practice, quiz him for a spelling test, or make a grilled cheese sandwich. Now that would test my love.
Then again, I’ve never asked my Mom to take my crate out back and hose poo out of it every day for an entire year. So, yea. Gene activated.
Totally innocent. No idea what this “crate business” you have mentioned?
