From Brian’s Facebook (He posted a picture of the men in the wedding party.):
Check out Ryan Curley, Rick Curley, and Daryl Hooker! We all looked so good 25 years ago today. Except for the tragic mullet and pornstache.
The good news is that Lori Ann Curley married me anyway. Happy Anniversary to the kindest, most loving person I know!
From my (rare posting on) Facebook:
Happy Silver (or Mithril in geekspeak) to Brian Curley, a.k.a. the World’s Greatest Husband, who proposed to me with the following:
“To the light in my darkness and the dawn of my every day. I love you. P. S. By the way, will you marry me?”
I said yes once I regained the power of speech.
One of my cousins commented “Beautiful proposal.” I responded with “The ring was tied with a ribbon to a Winnie-the-Pooh bear. You may all say, “Aww!” Two friends did.
Dinner Celebration
We had a lovely steak dinner at Delany’s. Delicious food and impeccable service. I highly recommend the Button Mushrooms, sautéed in butter & topped with parmesan cheese, and Brian chose their slender onion rings for his appetizer. For entrées, I had the tiniest filet mignon with a bleu cheese topping that sizzled when it was served. Brian ordered the prime rib special and could not finish it. For dessert, the restaurant treated us to an ice cream sundae that we shared in our usual 60/40 split.
Gifts
For some reason, Brian doesn’t like shopping my wish lists on Amazon.com or Think Geek.com. I like to make gift shopping easy on people. I shopped his wish list and purchased an expansion for the boardgame “A Touch of Evil” and a Bluetooth speaker. Brian bought me a pyramid-shaped cushion on which to rest my Kindle as I’m reading in bed, and it’s so much better than the stand (that I had to put on a book) that I was using prior. He also gave me another book, Shadows Over Baker Street, for my Kindle.
However, the best gift is being married to Brian: the great love of my life and the rock I cling to in the storm of life. When I see him helping someone in need, or just doing something sweet and unexpected, I realize what a good man I married.
Besides, being married to Brian is fun. Years ago I read a magazine article that discussed that women frequently choose to spend their free time doing housework, whereas men frequently choose to have fun and play during their free time. Brian is a prime example of this in that he introduced me to several roleplaying games and board games and other fun activities during our marriage, such as going to Summerfest (again) and taking me to Lambeau Field for Packer games, Family Night, and Shareholder meetings.
Brian reminds me of my late father’s sense of humor. One night when my parents had all ten of their grandchildren (ranging in age from toddler to teenager), my mother complained that she had done all the work while he did nothing but play with the kids. My father replied, “Well whose fault is that?”
Plus, Brian makes me laugh when I’m feeling sad. I wish I had that talent.
Here’s to another wonderful twenty-five (plus) years.
Pog ma thoin!
-Lori
“Are you currently in a serious relationship?”
“Well, I’m married, but the WGH and I try not to be too serious about it. We prefer being silly. Case in point: we celebrated one of our wedding anniversaries by going to a Weird Al concert. Another was spent in bed sleeping. You get the idea.” – from a meme I answered several years ago.
Monday, July 18, 2016
Wednesday, July 13, 2016
The Drunken Smiley Face in the Sky
Two more wonderful trips to Summerfest.
Opening Day
The World’s Greatest Husband (WGH) and I attended the opening day of Summerfest on Wednesday, July 29. We took off work early and had a great time, despite the Milwaukee County Transit System soaking us for both a parking fee AND a bus fare. Not good. We dipped into the last of our savings to have enough cash for the day, and shelling out $17 in travel expenses was a terrible way to start.
Fortunately, we had a wonderful time. After picking up a late lunch in the international food vendors section, we strolled down the lakeshore path until we reached the Tiki Hut, where less-established artists perform. We enjoyed Dan Rodriguez’s concert and bought his latest CD. For the uninitiated, Rodriguez’s song “When You Come Home” is featured in the Budweiser “Friends Are Waiting” Commercial (scroll down until you find the video link). He also has a beautiful rendition of “Stand By Me” (same page, a little higher). Rodriguez, as usual, sang his song “Duluth” with his wife (they wrote “Duluth” on their honeymoon; guess where they went?), and this year they included their four-month old son Oak.
Of course the food and drink are expensive; Summerfest is a closed venue and carry-ins are prohibited. I just buy a ($4.50) bottle of water, then refill it at the bubblers. As I was doing this, I noticed the young lady at the next bubbler struggling to get a drink while holding her long hair out of the way and talking on her cell phone all at the same time. Unfortunately, she failed her DEX roll.
As experienced Summerfest attendees, we know that the best way to insure a good seat for a 10:00 pm show is to be there by 4:00 pm and stay there, taking turns as needed for food/beverage/bathroom breaks. Plus, we don’t like to stand through the show as others do, and positioned ourselves at the top of a set of bleachers with an excellent and unobstructed view.
Because it is an outdoor venue, Summerfest allows smoking in most areas, including the amphitheater where we were seated. An extremely inebriated gent in front of me was behaving like an active chimney; something I couldn’t tolerate as an ex-smoker, so I whispered to him, “Could you please refrain from smoking, or go somewhere else to smoke? I’m breathing for two (with appropriate belly pat).” Worked like the proverbial charm. When the gent went to buy more beer, he didn’t return for quite some time; and when he did return, he admitted that he got lost. Yep, very drunk. His companions assured me he was not the designated driver. No, I’m not pregnant, but the drunk didn’t need to know that.
Two of the acts prior to the one we wanted to see were terrible. I know the singer is bad when even my tone-deaf ears start hurting, However a third group was so good that Brian already purchased one of their CDs. In between acts, while the roadies reset the stage, I took out my tablet to read my Kindle app. At 9:30 pm, Summerfest treated its guests to an incredible and lengthy (half-hour) fireworks show that included a few smiley faces meant to represent the Summerfest logo. One of them exploded upside-down, so we dubbed it “The Drunken Smiley Face in the Sky.”
Our chosen headliner for the evening was none other than “Weird Al” Yankovic. To celebrate our third wedding anniversary, Brian and I attended Yankovic’s concert at the Barrymore Theatre in Madison when he was on tour promoting his Alapalooza album. Twenty-two years later, Yankovic is on tour promoting Mandatory Fun. He opened the show by singing “Tacky” based on “Happy” by Pharrell, and for over an hour, Yankovic entertained us with many songs from his repertoire. At one point, Yankovic grabbed his accordion and said, “I’m sure I don’t have to ask this, but Milwaukee, are you ready to polka?!” The crowd went nuts; the polka is Wisconsin’s official state dance. Seriously. Yankovic not only played “Now That’s What I Call Polka!”, his chosen polka medley from Mandatory Fun, but the mega screen upstage played videos of the songs he covered. When I saw Miley Cyrus swinging from a “Wrecking Ball” onscreen, I laughed so loud, I was afraid of disturbing the drunken party seated in front of me. I couldn’t stop laughing as Yankovic also covered “Gangnam Style” by Psy, “Call Me Maybe” by Carly Rae Jepsen, and “Get Lucky” by Daft Punk featuring Pharrell Williams, among others.
The mega screen came in handy because Al and his band made several costume changes in between songs throughout the set. As they left the stage, clips were shown from The Weird Al Show, Al TV, and shows in which he appeared (such as The Simpsons) or was mentioned (How I Met Your Mother). Sometimes a video would segue into a song performance, as Al literally segwayed onto the stage to sing “White and Nerdy.”
Although I kept my vow to sing publicly only at sporting events (because even professional singers have trouble with “The Star Spangled Banner”) or in a house of worship (the Gods gave me this horrible singing voice, They should have put up with it), I did break the vow for Al’s encore: “The Saga Begins,” which combines three of my fandoms: “Weird Al,” Star Wars, and “American Pie.” Plus “Yoda.”
Good Karma, Perfect Day
On our way to Summerfest on Saturday, July 9th, we stopped at our favorite McDonald’s for some lunch. We were behind a car with two adorable dogs in the back and an Afghanistan War Veteran license plate. My habit is to thank veterans whenever I can, so I said to Brian that I wished we were ahead of the car so that we could pay for his lunch. Well, the veteran’s window was open, so Brian shouted to him that we would pay for his lunch. When the veteran approached the pay window, the cashier looked at us to confirm, which we of course did, and passed the veteran on. When the cashier asked why we were doing this, we pointed to the license plate, and he understood. So we started the day with perfect weather and very good karma.
We saved ourselves some money (and a lot of aggravation) by parking in a different lot and still riding the bus to Summerfest with a pre-paid fare. When we arrived, most of the stages hosted a battle of the bands from various School of Rock franchises across the nation. These kids were wicked-talented, singing songs from Guns N Roses, Led Zeppelin, and Stevie Wonder, among others.
Mercifully all of the groups we wanted to see that day performed at the BMO Harris Pavilion, which is no smoking due to its roof, so we camped there from about 3:30 pm on. I never heard of Sigmund Snopek, nor that he used to open for the Violent Femmes (go figure; both are from Milwaukee), but I loved his music, the way he encouraged the audience to sing (calling us the Wisconsin Tavernacle Choir), and the fact that he had a painter on stage creating art as he created art. Nice touch.
Howard Jones gave a brief but beautiful performance (with a keytar and other techno instruments that I couldn’t name). Then OMD played, including my favorite “If You Leave” from the Pretty In Pink soundtrack. I love me my 80s soundtracks, and I admit it: I sang along. Mercifully the guy sitting next to me (not my Brian, other side) was wearing earplugs. Throughout the evening, Mr. Earplugs watched a movie on his smartphone, and I looked it up at work this week from what little I saw: Resident Evil: Apocalypse starring the talented and beautiful Milla Jovovich.
Despite our fabulous bleacher seats behind and above the more formal theater seats, I noticed a very bad design flaw of the pavilion and its handicap accessible seats. We sat in a place where we always would be able to see the stage, even if the patrons in front of us stood. The accessible seats were the back row of the theater seats, and people using that row either had to stand or have no view. I noticed one young couple left, which is rather sad because the gentlemen, whose right leg ended at the knee, had the bearing of a veteran. I must remember to write Summerfest about this.
When the headliner Bare Naked Ladies took the stage, I noticed that the lead singer Ed Robertson seemed to change guitars (electric, acoustic, mandolin, and banjo) after every song. I don’t know why he needed so many stringed instruments, but I guess that’s just a musician thing. Again I broke my vow when they played many of their songs that I know so well: “If I Had $1,000,000,” “The Old Apartment”, and especially “History of Everything,” the theme song from my favorite sitcom The Big Bang Theory. For the encore, Robertson switched places with the drummer Tyler Stewart, who also is a talented front man, as well as looking extremely huggable (that means attractive in my parlance).
As we left Summerfest, casually walking along its lakeshore path because we were not in a hurry, Brian turned to me and said that the day was perfect (touch wood), and “happy anniversary.” No, we couldn’t afford a big party, but we did have a wonderful time together. I hugged him and honestly told him how much I love him.
The only bad thing that could have occurred at that point was if our car was towed from where we extra-legally parked it. However, we weren’t the only Summerfest attendees to do that, so they couldn’t tow us all. Finally at home, we crawled into bed and didn’t get up until an hour or so before hosting our regular RPG.
Next year (for Summerfest’s 50th anniversary), we want to take our friend Brian Stewart.
Pog ma thoin!
-Lori
Droz: “What’s this? You’re wearing the shirt of the band you’re going to see? Don’t be that guy!” – PCU written by Adam Leff and Zak Penn Brian and I saw a lot of people being ‘that guy.’
Opening Day
The World’s Greatest Husband (WGH) and I attended the opening day of Summerfest on Wednesday, July 29. We took off work early and had a great time, despite the Milwaukee County Transit System soaking us for both a parking fee AND a bus fare. Not good. We dipped into the last of our savings to have enough cash for the day, and shelling out $17 in travel expenses was a terrible way to start.
Fortunately, we had a wonderful time. After picking up a late lunch in the international food vendors section, we strolled down the lakeshore path until we reached the Tiki Hut, where less-established artists perform. We enjoyed Dan Rodriguez’s concert and bought his latest CD. For the uninitiated, Rodriguez’s song “When You Come Home” is featured in the Budweiser “Friends Are Waiting” Commercial (scroll down until you find the video link). He also has a beautiful rendition of “Stand By Me” (same page, a little higher). Rodriguez, as usual, sang his song “Duluth” with his wife (they wrote “Duluth” on their honeymoon; guess where they went?), and this year they included their four-month old son Oak.
Of course the food and drink are expensive; Summerfest is a closed venue and carry-ins are prohibited. I just buy a ($4.50) bottle of water, then refill it at the bubblers. As I was doing this, I noticed the young lady at the next bubbler struggling to get a drink while holding her long hair out of the way and talking on her cell phone all at the same time. Unfortunately, she failed her DEX roll.
As experienced Summerfest attendees, we know that the best way to insure a good seat for a 10:00 pm show is to be there by 4:00 pm and stay there, taking turns as needed for food/beverage/bathroom breaks. Plus, we don’t like to stand through the show as others do, and positioned ourselves at the top of a set of bleachers with an excellent and unobstructed view.
Because it is an outdoor venue, Summerfest allows smoking in most areas, including the amphitheater where we were seated. An extremely inebriated gent in front of me was behaving like an active chimney; something I couldn’t tolerate as an ex-smoker, so I whispered to him, “Could you please refrain from smoking, or go somewhere else to smoke? I’m breathing for two (with appropriate belly pat).” Worked like the proverbial charm. When the gent went to buy more beer, he didn’t return for quite some time; and when he did return, he admitted that he got lost. Yep, very drunk. His companions assured me he was not the designated driver. No, I’m not pregnant, but the drunk didn’t need to know that.
Two of the acts prior to the one we wanted to see were terrible. I know the singer is bad when even my tone-deaf ears start hurting, However a third group was so good that Brian already purchased one of their CDs. In between acts, while the roadies reset the stage, I took out my tablet to read my Kindle app. At 9:30 pm, Summerfest treated its guests to an incredible and lengthy (half-hour) fireworks show that included a few smiley faces meant to represent the Summerfest logo. One of them exploded upside-down, so we dubbed it “The Drunken Smiley Face in the Sky.”
Our chosen headliner for the evening was none other than “Weird Al” Yankovic. To celebrate our third wedding anniversary, Brian and I attended Yankovic’s concert at the Barrymore Theatre in Madison when he was on tour promoting his Alapalooza album. Twenty-two years later, Yankovic is on tour promoting Mandatory Fun. He opened the show by singing “Tacky” based on “Happy” by Pharrell, and for over an hour, Yankovic entertained us with many songs from his repertoire. At one point, Yankovic grabbed his accordion and said, “I’m sure I don’t have to ask this, but Milwaukee, are you ready to polka?!” The crowd went nuts; the polka is Wisconsin’s official state dance. Seriously. Yankovic not only played “Now That’s What I Call Polka!”, his chosen polka medley from Mandatory Fun, but the mega screen upstage played videos of the songs he covered. When I saw Miley Cyrus swinging from a “Wrecking Ball” onscreen, I laughed so loud, I was afraid of disturbing the drunken party seated in front of me. I couldn’t stop laughing as Yankovic also covered “Gangnam Style” by Psy, “Call Me Maybe” by Carly Rae Jepsen, and “Get Lucky” by Daft Punk featuring Pharrell Williams, among others.
The mega screen came in handy because Al and his band made several costume changes in between songs throughout the set. As they left the stage, clips were shown from The Weird Al Show, Al TV, and shows in which he appeared (such as The Simpsons) or was mentioned (How I Met Your Mother). Sometimes a video would segue into a song performance, as Al literally segwayed onto the stage to sing “White and Nerdy.”
Although I kept my vow to sing publicly only at sporting events (because even professional singers have trouble with “The Star Spangled Banner”) or in a house of worship (the Gods gave me this horrible singing voice, They should have put up with it), I did break the vow for Al’s encore: “The Saga Begins,” which combines three of my fandoms: “Weird Al,” Star Wars, and “American Pie.” Plus “Yoda.”
Good Karma, Perfect Day
On our way to Summerfest on Saturday, July 9th, we stopped at our favorite McDonald’s for some lunch. We were behind a car with two adorable dogs in the back and an Afghanistan War Veteran license plate. My habit is to thank veterans whenever I can, so I said to Brian that I wished we were ahead of the car so that we could pay for his lunch. Well, the veteran’s window was open, so Brian shouted to him that we would pay for his lunch. When the veteran approached the pay window, the cashier looked at us to confirm, which we of course did, and passed the veteran on. When the cashier asked why we were doing this, we pointed to the license plate, and he understood. So we started the day with perfect weather and very good karma.
We saved ourselves some money (and a lot of aggravation) by parking in a different lot and still riding the bus to Summerfest with a pre-paid fare. When we arrived, most of the stages hosted a battle of the bands from various School of Rock franchises across the nation. These kids were wicked-talented, singing songs from Guns N Roses, Led Zeppelin, and Stevie Wonder, among others.
Mercifully all of the groups we wanted to see that day performed at the BMO Harris Pavilion, which is no smoking due to its roof, so we camped there from about 3:30 pm on. I never heard of Sigmund Snopek, nor that he used to open for the Violent Femmes (go figure; both are from Milwaukee), but I loved his music, the way he encouraged the audience to sing (calling us the Wisconsin Tavernacle Choir), and the fact that he had a painter on stage creating art as he created art. Nice touch.
Howard Jones gave a brief but beautiful performance (with a keytar and other techno instruments that I couldn’t name). Then OMD played, including my favorite “If You Leave” from the Pretty In Pink soundtrack. I love me my 80s soundtracks, and I admit it: I sang along. Mercifully the guy sitting next to me (not my Brian, other side) was wearing earplugs. Throughout the evening, Mr. Earplugs watched a movie on his smartphone, and I looked it up at work this week from what little I saw: Resident Evil: Apocalypse starring the talented and beautiful Milla Jovovich.
Despite our fabulous bleacher seats behind and above the more formal theater seats, I noticed a very bad design flaw of the pavilion and its handicap accessible seats. We sat in a place where we always would be able to see the stage, even if the patrons in front of us stood. The accessible seats were the back row of the theater seats, and people using that row either had to stand or have no view. I noticed one young couple left, which is rather sad because the gentlemen, whose right leg ended at the knee, had the bearing of a veteran. I must remember to write Summerfest about this.
When the headliner Bare Naked Ladies took the stage, I noticed that the lead singer Ed Robertson seemed to change guitars (electric, acoustic, mandolin, and banjo) after every song. I don’t know why he needed so many stringed instruments, but I guess that’s just a musician thing. Again I broke my vow when they played many of their songs that I know so well: “If I Had $1,000,000,” “The Old Apartment”, and especially “History of Everything,” the theme song from my favorite sitcom The Big Bang Theory. For the encore, Robertson switched places with the drummer Tyler Stewart, who also is a talented front man, as well as looking extremely huggable (that means attractive in my parlance).
As we left Summerfest, casually walking along its lakeshore path because we were not in a hurry, Brian turned to me and said that the day was perfect (touch wood), and “happy anniversary.” No, we couldn’t afford a big party, but we did have a wonderful time together. I hugged him and honestly told him how much I love him.
The only bad thing that could have occurred at that point was if our car was towed from where we extra-legally parked it. However, we weren’t the only Summerfest attendees to do that, so they couldn’t tow us all. Finally at home, we crawled into bed and didn’t get up until an hour or so before hosting our regular RPG.
Next year (for Summerfest’s 50th anniversary), we want to take our friend Brian Stewart.
Pog ma thoin!
-Lori
Droz: “What’s this? You’re wearing the shirt of the band you’re going to see? Don’t be that guy!” – PCU written by Adam Leff and Zak Penn Brian and I saw a lot of people being ‘that guy.’
Friday, June 24, 2016
Castle Curley Update
Near the end of 2015, I created a list called the “Castle Curley Home Organization and Improvements List”, hoping that in lieu of improvements that the WGH and I cannot afford, at least organizing the house would make it functional and save us resources of money and time in that we could find what we need instead of having to buy new stuff, we could eat at home rather than going out most nights, and we wouldn’t have to spend our weekends and other days off cleaning house. I hoped that we could have this organization done with minimal costs by the end of the year.
Reality loves to laugh at any plans I make.
While Brian and I move faster than the glacial pace of state government, it’s not by much. We already modified the plans to state that the first floor will be done by the end of the year, with the second floor done in 2017, the (finished) attic in 2018, and the (unfinished, so storage only) basement in 2019.
We really hoped to renovate the house, and I’ve been waiting for the last eleven years since we moved into this 1902 Victorian home to either win the lottery, write a best seller, and/or receive a significant raise at work. At the rate all three of these are going, they are in order of likelihood of happening. If I’d been smart, we would have started this organization project back in 2005; then I could have spent more time working on creativity (novel and crafts, specifically) and Delazan Enterprises, my home business.
We did make an effort on the house organization over the Memorial Day (MD) weekend, despite the fact that we spent almost all of Friday in bed (sleeping, felt wonderful). Mekhi did forge a path from the door to his bed in his bedroom, but not the big cleanout that I hoped he and Brian would do that day. I really can’t complain about the mess in my ten-year-old’s bedroom considering it matches the cleanliness – or lack thereof – of my bedroom at that same age; my adult bedroom isn’t much cleaner.
The biggest project completed MD weekend was the assembly of the hutch we bought at Ikea (pronounced ɪˈkeːˈa) earlier in the year. Actually it’s a secretary with a matching cabinet on top, but it’s far more functional than the pub table and chairs that it replaced in our kitchen. The table was a clutter magnet, and I hate barstool height chairs. Brian and I only snipped at each other a few times in the process, both losing our tempers at least once each. After about four hours (felt like forty), we have a beautiful hutch that I already started organizing with snacks for Mekhi, treats for the critters, and my two favorite cookbooks. The handled baskets that I purchased (and started using in the freezer and refrigerator) help this endeavor, plus providing storage for the unused baskets to get them off the counter.
We didn’t remove the ugly and stained brown carpet from the study MD weekend, but we did go to see Captain America: Civil War for some positive mental health and to keep up with the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Brian said the movie followed the comic book reasonably well; I loved the unexpected, yet very pleasant surprises the movie’s plot made. Fight scenes (which I usually find very boring) were good, too.
This coming weekend, we have no RPG; just Mekhi’s karate lesson, Janet’s memorial to attend and a few errands to run. The following weekend will be our annual Independence Day Party, so Brian and I will be cleaning and organizing. Wednesday night we hauled our seldom-used treadmill to the curb, and we don’t have anything else super-heavy that needs to be moved from the study before we take out the carpet. A lot of stuff in there will be thrown out.
I also hope we finish organizing the kitchen this weekend. Of the eleven drawers, three will continue their current uses (silverware, linens, and hand-held appliances), and I’ve gone through one of the junk drawers and now store the pot lids in there since our new stove doesn’t have as much storage as the older one. Although, now we have room next to the stove for a small organizer that we’ve purchased and hope to assemble this weekend, in which we plan to store more items that used to be on or in the stove, as well as large utensils that are in a carousel on the counter (that Brian hates because it takes up so much counter space). We also need to set up a drinking fountain for all the critters and a special timed/measured feeding dish for the dogs.
After living in this house for eleven years, I finally looked into the huge cupboard high up in the half-bath just off the kitchen. Basically it was empty, so now we store for seldom-used items for entertaining (like the football-shaped chip and dip bowl). Some of the “stuff” in the drawers may find their way into that cupboard or into the basement for other long-term storage.
I’ll let you know how what progress we make over the weekend, but understand that our plan for this evening is to go to bed not long after arriving home.
Pog ma thoin!
-Lori
“Every time I make a plan, God laughs at me.” – Jason Isaacs
Reality loves to laugh at any plans I make.
While Brian and I move faster than the glacial pace of state government, it’s not by much. We already modified the plans to state that the first floor will be done by the end of the year, with the second floor done in 2017, the (finished) attic in 2018, and the (unfinished, so storage only) basement in 2019.
We really hoped to renovate the house, and I’ve been waiting for the last eleven years since we moved into this 1902 Victorian home to either win the lottery, write a best seller, and/or receive a significant raise at work. At the rate all three of these are going, they are in order of likelihood of happening. If I’d been smart, we would have started this organization project back in 2005; then I could have spent more time working on creativity (novel and crafts, specifically) and Delazan Enterprises, my home business.
We did make an effort on the house organization over the Memorial Day (MD) weekend, despite the fact that we spent almost all of Friday in bed (sleeping, felt wonderful). Mekhi did forge a path from the door to his bed in his bedroom, but not the big cleanout that I hoped he and Brian would do that day. I really can’t complain about the mess in my ten-year-old’s bedroom considering it matches the cleanliness – or lack thereof – of my bedroom at that same age; my adult bedroom isn’t much cleaner.
The biggest project completed MD weekend was the assembly of the hutch we bought at Ikea (pronounced ɪˈkeːˈa) earlier in the year. Actually it’s a secretary with a matching cabinet on top, but it’s far more functional than the pub table and chairs that it replaced in our kitchen. The table was a clutter magnet, and I hate barstool height chairs. Brian and I only snipped at each other a few times in the process, both losing our tempers at least once each. After about four hours (felt like forty), we have a beautiful hutch that I already started organizing with snacks for Mekhi, treats for the critters, and my two favorite cookbooks. The handled baskets that I purchased (and started using in the freezer and refrigerator) help this endeavor, plus providing storage for the unused baskets to get them off the counter.
We didn’t remove the ugly and stained brown carpet from the study MD weekend, but we did go to see Captain America: Civil War for some positive mental health and to keep up with the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Brian said the movie followed the comic book reasonably well; I loved the unexpected, yet very pleasant surprises the movie’s plot made. Fight scenes (which I usually find very boring) were good, too.
This coming weekend, we have no RPG; just Mekhi’s karate lesson, Janet’s memorial to attend and a few errands to run. The following weekend will be our annual Independence Day Party, so Brian and I will be cleaning and organizing. Wednesday night we hauled our seldom-used treadmill to the curb, and we don’t have anything else super-heavy that needs to be moved from the study before we take out the carpet. A lot of stuff in there will be thrown out.
I also hope we finish organizing the kitchen this weekend. Of the eleven drawers, three will continue their current uses (silverware, linens, and hand-held appliances), and I’ve gone through one of the junk drawers and now store the pot lids in there since our new stove doesn’t have as much storage as the older one. Although, now we have room next to the stove for a small organizer that we’ve purchased and hope to assemble this weekend, in which we plan to store more items that used to be on or in the stove, as well as large utensils that are in a carousel on the counter (that Brian hates because it takes up so much counter space). We also need to set up a drinking fountain for all the critters and a special timed/measured feeding dish for the dogs.
After living in this house for eleven years, I finally looked into the huge cupboard high up in the half-bath just off the kitchen. Basically it was empty, so now we store for seldom-used items for entertaining (like the football-shaped chip and dip bowl). Some of the “stuff” in the drawers may find their way into that cupboard or into the basement for other long-term storage.
I’ll let you know how what progress we make over the weekend, but understand that our plan for this evening is to go to bed not long after arriving home.
Pog ma thoin!
-Lori
“Every time I make a plan, God laughs at me.” – Jason Isaacs
Friday, June 17, 2016
No Mithril Party
We at Castle Curley have had to dig into our meager savings to pay bills (medical, water bill for leaky toilet, furnace repair, etc.) and buying needed items like a new microwave (when I broke the old one) and a dehumidifier for the basement to slow the rusting of the furnace we purchased in 2006. This coupled with our lower pay thanks to the Wanker Administration means we will not have a big party for our Silver/Mithril Anniversary. Thus, our annual Independence Day Party (IDP) is back on the calendar for Saturday, July 2, 2016, at 3:30 pm-ish until the fireworks are spent and the mosquitos overtake us.
I am having a hard time letting the Mithril Party go (case in point: this blog entry has been in production for about a month), as well as the second honeymoon we wanted to do afterward. When Brian and I married, we couldn’t afford a big honeymoon: a week in the Poconos in a suite with a champagne glass whirlpool and/or a heart-shaped tub. That was my dream from the adverts in Brides and other like magazines to which I subscribed from the age of eighteen to my wedding at twenty-one.
Well, the Poconos now have a lot of the same resorts as one would find in the Wisconsin Dells, and Brian and I decided that a dip in such peculiar tubs is neither necessary nor feasible at our age. When I asked the World’s Greatest Husband what he’d like for a second honeymoon, he mentioned Ireland or Greece. I like both those ideas, but I prefer Ireland because I’d like to look up our ancestors, and aside from a few places, they speak English in Ireland. Hell, I’d love to go on any vacation that doesn’t end in the word “Con”. Unfortunately, this is still out of our budget for both money and leave time (unless I win the lottery). Sigh.
In light of my friend Janet’s death earlier this month, and that her 50th birthday would have been the day after our party, I’m thinking of making a German chocolate cake (her favorite) in her memory. Otherwise, I refuse to stress-out regarding this party. Brian and I have been working on the house (more in a later entry), and the past several years have proven that once the invites are out, all I have to worry about is buying a bunch of meat (and their accompaniments) for the grill.
My parents had a lovely (but stress-filled to prep) party for their Silver. Then went on a cruise to Alaska for their Ruby (forty years). I was going to plan a Golden (fifty) Party for them, mainly because (aside from end-of-life-care for our parents) my siblings couldn’t organize a special brownie giveaway at a Grateful Dead concert. However, Mum and I disagreed on the date for the party (I reserved the church reception hall for the weekend of their anniversary proper; she wanted the weekend that Brian and I planned to attend Gen Con), and then they died shortly after their 48th wedding anniversary.
Conversely, when my in-laws celebrated their Golden back in 2004, , I designed the invites, and my MiL and I had a good time together shopping for the party. When they celebrated their Diamond (sixty years), I arranged a simple and successful potluck luncheon with their descendants.
The next hallmark holiday for me is my fiftieth birthday in 2019, and I already told the WGH that I want a special party. However, I’d like a nice celebration for Brian, too (when he turned fifty last year, all he wanted was a few good friends over to play games; we had a blast). I don’t’ want to wait until our Ruby or Golden anniversary for a big party or trip, but current economics is not on our side. I don’t see a change anytime soon, either. Sigh.
I can haz winning lottery tix now plz?
Pog ma thoin!
-Lori
“I hate being poor.” – Ronald Weasley, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire by J. K. Rowling
I am having a hard time letting the Mithril Party go (case in point: this blog entry has been in production for about a month), as well as the second honeymoon we wanted to do afterward. When Brian and I married, we couldn’t afford a big honeymoon: a week in the Poconos in a suite with a champagne glass whirlpool and/or a heart-shaped tub. That was my dream from the adverts in Brides and other like magazines to which I subscribed from the age of eighteen to my wedding at twenty-one.
Well, the Poconos now have a lot of the same resorts as one would find in the Wisconsin Dells, and Brian and I decided that a dip in such peculiar tubs is neither necessary nor feasible at our age. When I asked the World’s Greatest Husband what he’d like for a second honeymoon, he mentioned Ireland or Greece. I like both those ideas, but I prefer Ireland because I’d like to look up our ancestors, and aside from a few places, they speak English in Ireland. Hell, I’d love to go on any vacation that doesn’t end in the word “Con”. Unfortunately, this is still out of our budget for both money and leave time (unless I win the lottery). Sigh.
So, back to the events of this summer: Brian and I plan to go out for a very nice steak dinner on our anniversary proper. I looked at the wish list I made for the Mithril Party and highlighted a few items that I wanted to do before and for the IDP. Unfortunately, we can’t afford the abbreviated list, either:
- Have a new family portrait taken, and with Mekhi
- Have wedding videos/photos scanned/converted to digital to display on a digital frame and/or laptop throughout the party
- Bring out wedding flowers, ring bearer’s pillow, etc. to display.
- Packers Shareholders Stock frame for us
- Silver Jordan Almonds
- Anniversary cake
In light of my friend Janet’s death earlier this month, and that her 50th birthday would have been the day after our party, I’m thinking of making a German chocolate cake (her favorite) in her memory. Otherwise, I refuse to stress-out regarding this party. Brian and I have been working on the house (more in a later entry), and the past several years have proven that once the invites are out, all I have to worry about is buying a bunch of meat (and their accompaniments) for the grill.
My parents had a lovely (but stress-filled to prep) party for their Silver. Then went on a cruise to Alaska for their Ruby (forty years). I was going to plan a Golden (fifty) Party for them, mainly because (aside from end-of-life-care for our parents) my siblings couldn’t organize a special brownie giveaway at a Grateful Dead concert. However, Mum and I disagreed on the date for the party (I reserved the church reception hall for the weekend of their anniversary proper; she wanted the weekend that Brian and I planned to attend Gen Con), and then they died shortly after their 48th wedding anniversary.
Conversely, when my in-laws celebrated their Golden back in 2004, , I designed the invites, and my MiL and I had a good time together shopping for the party. When they celebrated their Diamond (sixty years), I arranged a simple and successful potluck luncheon with their descendants.
The next hallmark holiday for me is my fiftieth birthday in 2019, and I already told the WGH that I want a special party. However, I’d like a nice celebration for Brian, too (when he turned fifty last year, all he wanted was a few good friends over to play games; we had a blast). I don’t’ want to wait until our Ruby or Golden anniversary for a big party or trip, but current economics is not on our side. I don’t see a change anytime soon, either. Sigh.
I can haz winning lottery tix now plz?
Pog ma thoin!
-Lori
“I hate being poor.” – Ronald Weasley, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire by J. K. Rowling
Tuesday, June 7, 2016
A Preacher Walks into a Grocery Store...
...and comforts a grieving Atheist and Pagan.
Saturday night, I heard that a dear friend of mine – Elle Janet Plato – died. Sunday I learned that the cause of death was suicide; something that I attempted when I was fifteen. My attempt was a cry for help, which I eventually received. Was Elle crying for help? I last saw her at Odyssey Con in April. She was playing in the gaming room, and her back was to the door. I snuck up behind her and hugged her. She seemed happy and having a good time.
Because of my attempt more than 30 years ago, I trained myself to look for the signs: talking about or asking questions about death, giving away prized possessions, a disconnect from others. If Elle displayed any of these symptoms, I missed them, and I’m sorry.
I will reiterate something that I hope all of my friends and even family should know: you can call me anytime; I don’t care the hour. I’ve dealt with the three AM phone call before, and I’d rather deal with that than what I am facing now: a memorial service for someone I loved during which the guilt ferrets will nibble on me (thank you Kevin Hearne for the analogy), and I will wonder if I could have prevented it.
I know that I am being self-centered right now, but Fuck! I’m grieving, and I’m not the only one. I had the unfortunate luck to have to tell Brian how Elle died. I already had to deliver such news when his brother died (heart attack 2002), and I’m still in shock myself.
Remember my framily: call me whenever you need; I don’t care the hour.
Sunday we went to breakfast as usual to the Prairie Diner, then ran a very few errands. At Pegasus, I bought yet another booster for my Munchkin collection (Knights). We picked up a few items at Target, especially a copy of Deadpool – a movie Elle raved about, and more boxes of tissues, which I’m sure we’ll need more of by next weekend.
At Woodman’s, we bought some chocolate ice cream, but we almost forgot the clear juice for Brian in advance of his colonoscopy on Monday. In the processed fruit aisle, we met a preacher, his wife, and I assume their teenaged/young adult daughter. How’d I know he was a preacher? The white shirt, dark pants, clerical collar, and the necklace with the cross pendant tucked into his breast pocket. His wife was dressed the same but her white blouse had an open collar and she wore a dark skirt. I can’t recall what the preacher was looking for, but we had a bit of a hard time finding the clear (and inexpensive) juices. The preacher wondered if, like him, my husband was plagued with gout. I whispered the real reason in his ear.
While waiting in line at the checkout, Brian noticed the preacher and family a couple of cashiers away and went to ask him to pray for our friend Janet who just committed suicide. Brian is an Atheist, and Janet – like me – was a Pagan (or was she an Atheist like Brian? I don’t know), but even Brian admits that he may be wrong about God. The preacher came to us in line and gave us hugs and fist-bumps as we cried.
I don’t agree with a lot of what modern Christian Churches espouse, but I also know the good works the Church does, too. Back in 2007 when my parents were dying, members of their Church helped my siblings and me by giving my parents rides to their numerous doctor appointments, bringing them meals, and just visiting with them so they weren’t lonely. My siblings and I were grateful because we couldn’t do it all because of our jobs or distance.
Elle was transgender who transitioned to transsexual. Some of her friends knew her as “Larry” before her transition. Her sexuality probably was a factor in her suicide because of current events and misperceptions of LBTGQ people. She told me about her transition once, and later on I wasn’t sure whether or not to believe her because Elle had a wicked sense of humor; nor did it matter. Elle was simply my dear friend.
Over the years of gaming with Elle, I collected many quotes; here are just a few:
“Emergency Dice.”
“I’m not a paladin; I don’t do lawful stupid.”
On the martial arts “I started with martial water colors.”
“I’d like to make sense, but I’m not sure how to.”
Requiescat in pace, Elle.
Blessed Be,
-Lori
“Pain is temporary; Suicide isn’t.” – seen on a poster at UW-Platteville when I was a student there in the late 80s
Saturday night, I heard that a dear friend of mine – Elle Janet Plato – died. Sunday I learned that the cause of death was suicide; something that I attempted when I was fifteen. My attempt was a cry for help, which I eventually received. Was Elle crying for help? I last saw her at Odyssey Con in April. She was playing in the gaming room, and her back was to the door. I snuck up behind her and hugged her. She seemed happy and having a good time.
Because of my attempt more than 30 years ago, I trained myself to look for the signs: talking about or asking questions about death, giving away prized possessions, a disconnect from others. If Elle displayed any of these symptoms, I missed them, and I’m sorry.
I will reiterate something that I hope all of my friends and even family should know: you can call me anytime; I don’t care the hour. I’ve dealt with the three AM phone call before, and I’d rather deal with that than what I am facing now: a memorial service for someone I loved during which the guilt ferrets will nibble on me (thank you Kevin Hearne for the analogy), and I will wonder if I could have prevented it.
I know that I am being self-centered right now, but Fuck! I’m grieving, and I’m not the only one. I had the unfortunate luck to have to tell Brian how Elle died. I already had to deliver such news when his brother died (heart attack 2002), and I’m still in shock myself.
Remember my framily: call me whenever you need; I don’t care the hour.
Sunday we went to breakfast as usual to the Prairie Diner, then ran a very few errands. At Pegasus, I bought yet another booster for my Munchkin collection (Knights). We picked up a few items at Target, especially a copy of Deadpool – a movie Elle raved about, and more boxes of tissues, which I’m sure we’ll need more of by next weekend.
At Woodman’s, we bought some chocolate ice cream, but we almost forgot the clear juice for Brian in advance of his colonoscopy on Monday. In the processed fruit aisle, we met a preacher, his wife, and I assume their teenaged/young adult daughter. How’d I know he was a preacher? The white shirt, dark pants, clerical collar, and the necklace with the cross pendant tucked into his breast pocket. His wife was dressed the same but her white blouse had an open collar and she wore a dark skirt. I can’t recall what the preacher was looking for, but we had a bit of a hard time finding the clear (and inexpensive) juices. The preacher wondered if, like him, my husband was plagued with gout. I whispered the real reason in his ear.
While waiting in line at the checkout, Brian noticed the preacher and family a couple of cashiers away and went to ask him to pray for our friend Janet who just committed suicide. Brian is an Atheist, and Janet – like me – was a Pagan (or was she an Atheist like Brian? I don’t know), but even Brian admits that he may be wrong about God. The preacher came to us in line and gave us hugs and fist-bumps as we cried.
I don’t agree with a lot of what modern Christian Churches espouse, but I also know the good works the Church does, too. Back in 2007 when my parents were dying, members of their Church helped my siblings and me by giving my parents rides to their numerous doctor appointments, bringing them meals, and just visiting with them so they weren’t lonely. My siblings and I were grateful because we couldn’t do it all because of our jobs or distance.
Elle was transgender who transitioned to transsexual. Some of her friends knew her as “Larry” before her transition. Her sexuality probably was a factor in her suicide because of current events and misperceptions of LBTGQ people. She told me about her transition once, and later on I wasn’t sure whether or not to believe her because Elle had a wicked sense of humor; nor did it matter. Elle was simply my dear friend.
Over the years of gaming with Elle, I collected many quotes; here are just a few:
“Emergency Dice.”
“I’m not a paladin; I don’t do lawful stupid.”
On the martial arts “I started with martial water colors.”
“I’d like to make sense, but I’m not sure how to.”
Requiescat in pace, Elle.
Blessed Be,
-Lori
“Pain is temporary; Suicide isn’t.” – seen on a poster at UW-Platteville when I was a student there in the late 80s
Monday, May 23, 2016
Geek Weddings are the Best
Earlier in the year I was on Facebook (FB) for one of my very rare visits, and I saw an invite for my friend Richard’s wedding. This was a bit surprising because Richard has been retired the entire six-plus years I’ve known him, and he’s on FB about as much as I am, and for similar reasons. (For the record: Richard is Adam Savage’s doppelgänger and has a voice similar to Frank Oz.) When I said to Brian, the World’s Greatest Husband (WGH), that Richard was getting married, he thought the post must be a prank.
Well, further research on FB, and following the link to their wedding blog, I found that this was not a prank. In Richard’s own words, “We’re seriously getting married, but we’re not getting married seriously.” Excellent. I RSVP’d yes for me and the WGH for what Richard called a May-December wedding. I tried to meet the bride at Odyssey Con, but she was working.
Yesterday was the big day, and because I subscribed to the blog, I knew that parking at the park that was the venue would be minimal, so I suggested we go early and take our e-books. For yet another rarity, the WGH agreed that his wife is a genius (after all, I married him!). We set up our lawn chairs in the shade, and I admired the sun hats that my friends wore (I couldn’t find my visor, so I wore Brian’s Packers Shareholder cap). When I looked at the program, I confirmed that this wedding was going to be different with references to “The Gride” and “The Broom” and “Exchange of Smoochery” after the exchanges of vows and rings. Another convention friend, who would be doing the readings, admired our attire, and said he had on his Spider-Man underwear (Guests wore anything from formal cocktail dresses and suits to shorts and tee-shirts, such as the WGH wore. I wore my very old and very comfortable blue sundress.).
Finally at 1:06 (I have yet to attend a wedding – including my own – that began on time), a few people were at the floral arch, including a lovely woman in a black suit with a bright pink bow-tie and boutonniere. A car drove onto the grass behind those seated, and out came a person in a big white dress carrying a bouquet of pink flowers. I said to the WGH, “I can just see Richard being the one to wear the dress.” When the wind blew the veil, I saw that yes, it was Richard in the dress, and the lady in the suit was his fiancée. Nice. The officiant made it clear that this was a “traditional” ceremony that would “adhere to gender norms.” I think it was Richard’s mother who did the “Giveth Awayness”, and she said she’d been waiting to do this since he was in school [ETA: I have since learned the lady who Giveth Awayness was the Broom's sister]. I honestly laughed and hooted and “huzzah-ed” throughout the ceremony, and I wasn’t the only one.
When our friend with the Spider-Man underwear recited the “selected readings from a famous book (The Bible),” selections included the “love is this, that, and the other thing” from I Corinthians, something from Genesis, and a selection from Deuteronomy (I think) about the bride should be a virgin. Then someone (I think it was Richard’s mother [sister - ed.]) said, “Richard is a virgin!?” At which point, several ladies – and even a couple of gents – in the audience stood up and testified that Richard was NOT a virgin.
Then came the exchange of vows, and the officiant took off his jacket to show that he was wearing a referee’s shirt underneath. He blew a whistle and flipped a coin, and Abigail won the toss, so she went first. She gave a brief but beautiful promise. Then they “switched sides” for “half-time” and played “Jump Around.” Many of us (myself included) danced as if we were at a Badger home game. Then Richard sang his vows: an a cappella version of “Annie’s Song.” Granted, Richard’s no John Denver, but the tribute was beautiful, and I admired his cojones and envied his singing ability.
When the officiant asked if anyone objects to the marriage, a few people – some of the same ones who testified to Richard’s sexual history – said, “I object! Abigail can do better!” More laughs.
Finally the officiant stated, “By the power invested in me by Al Gore and the Internet, I now pronounce you…” and here he flustered with bride/groom, husband/wife, until he said either married or spouses. I don’t remember which. I just love that we live in a world that is evolving toward non-binary gender definitions.
We chatted with many friends until it was time to go to the middle school that was the reception venue (I have no idea how they secured that). The happy couple mercifully had their receiving line out of the sun and inside the building. I said to Richard, “Leave it to you to look better in a wedding gown on your wedding day than I did on mine.” Brian commented on how hard it must have been to find a gown in his size. Richard confessed what I suspected; it was tailor-made for him.
The food was catered by a local and delicious Indian cuisine restaurant, and the drinks were available in well-labeled coolers that were reminiscent of Whitey – the second refrigerator that Richard kept in his previous home to provide drinks for his guests. Whitey included a diagram on the door that mapped where to find which beverages within. I wonder if Whitey made the move to Richard and Abigail’s condo…?
The tables were decorated with Christmas-themed table runners and pipe cleaner pine trees, in keeping with the May-December theme. Unfortunately, the tables were designed for children aged (and sized) eleven to thirteen; not full-grown (and then some) adults. I wasn’t the only who had trouble sitting, and the WGH wisely sat on a folded chair on the end (that would have crushed my thighs).
Although dancing would occur later on in the reception, Brian and I left early. We told everyone it was because we had work to do on the house (that we’ll be doing next weekend), but really because I was getting overheated, and y’all know I don’t deal well with the heat. When we said our goodbyes, I jokingly stated to Abigail that she could do better, which she wisely countered with “Oh, no. He’s the best.” (I sincerely hope she realized I was teasing because I felt awful the rest of the evening worrying if I offended her.) I did tell her that Richard is a wonderful guy – which is the truth. Many years ago, I was thinking of matching him with J. V. Jones, who was a Guest of Honor at Odyssey Con in 2011, but I didn’t because a. she lives in California, and b. I’m a horrible matchmaker.
I’m ecstatic that Richard found the love of his life. Abigail seems wonderful, too; at the very least, she has an excellent sense of humor considering her very fun wedding.
Pog ma thoin!
-Lori
“I know that when ye think o’ love you’re supposed to think o’ kissy faces and scented soap and hummin’ happy songs together, but there’s another vital part to it that people rarely admit to themselves: We want somebody to rescue us from other people. From talking to them, I mean, or from the burden of giving a damn about what they say. We don’t want to be polite and stifle our farts, now do we? We want to let ‘em rip and we want to be with someone who won’t care if we do, who will love us regardless and fart right back besides.” – Owen Kennedy, Staked by Kevin Hearne
Well, further research on FB, and following the link to their wedding blog, I found that this was not a prank. In Richard’s own words, “We’re seriously getting married, but we’re not getting married seriously.” Excellent. I RSVP’d yes for me and the WGH for what Richard called a May-December wedding. I tried to meet the bride at Odyssey Con, but she was working.
Yesterday was the big day, and because I subscribed to the blog, I knew that parking at the park that was the venue would be minimal, so I suggested we go early and take our e-books. For yet another rarity, the WGH agreed that his wife is a genius (after all, I married him!). We set up our lawn chairs in the shade, and I admired the sun hats that my friends wore (I couldn’t find my visor, so I wore Brian’s Packers Shareholder cap). When I looked at the program, I confirmed that this wedding was going to be different with references to “The Gride” and “The Broom” and “Exchange of Smoochery” after the exchanges of vows and rings. Another convention friend, who would be doing the readings, admired our attire, and said he had on his Spider-Man underwear (Guests wore anything from formal cocktail dresses and suits to shorts and tee-shirts, such as the WGH wore. I wore my very old and very comfortable blue sundress.).
Finally at 1:06 (I have yet to attend a wedding – including my own – that began on time), a few people were at the floral arch, including a lovely woman in a black suit with a bright pink bow-tie and boutonniere. A car drove onto the grass behind those seated, and out came a person in a big white dress carrying a bouquet of pink flowers. I said to the WGH, “I can just see Richard being the one to wear the dress.” When the wind blew the veil, I saw that yes, it was Richard in the dress, and the lady in the suit was his fiancée. Nice. The officiant made it clear that this was a “traditional” ceremony that would “adhere to gender norms.” I think it was Richard’s mother who did the “Giveth Awayness”, and she said she’d been waiting to do this since he was in school [ETA: I have since learned the lady who Giveth Awayness was the Broom's sister]. I honestly laughed and hooted and “huzzah-ed” throughout the ceremony, and I wasn’t the only one.
When our friend with the Spider-Man underwear recited the “selected readings from a famous book (The Bible),” selections included the “love is this, that, and the other thing” from I Corinthians, something from Genesis, and a selection from Deuteronomy (I think) about the bride should be a virgin. Then someone (I think it was Richard’s mother [sister - ed.]) said, “Richard is a virgin!?” At which point, several ladies – and even a couple of gents – in the audience stood up and testified that Richard was NOT a virgin.
Then came the exchange of vows, and the officiant took off his jacket to show that he was wearing a referee’s shirt underneath. He blew a whistle and flipped a coin, and Abigail won the toss, so she went first. She gave a brief but beautiful promise. Then they “switched sides” for “half-time” and played “Jump Around.” Many of us (myself included) danced as if we were at a Badger home game. Then Richard sang his vows: an a cappella version of “Annie’s Song.” Granted, Richard’s no John Denver, but the tribute was beautiful, and I admired his cojones and envied his singing ability.
When the officiant asked if anyone objects to the marriage, a few people – some of the same ones who testified to Richard’s sexual history – said, “I object! Abigail can do better!” More laughs.
Finally the officiant stated, “By the power invested in me by Al Gore and the Internet, I now pronounce you…” and here he flustered with bride/groom, husband/wife, until he said either married or spouses. I don’t remember which. I just love that we live in a world that is evolving toward non-binary gender definitions.
We chatted with many friends until it was time to go to the middle school that was the reception venue (I have no idea how they secured that). The happy couple mercifully had their receiving line out of the sun and inside the building. I said to Richard, “Leave it to you to look better in a wedding gown on your wedding day than I did on mine.” Brian commented on how hard it must have been to find a gown in his size. Richard confessed what I suspected; it was tailor-made for him.
The food was catered by a local and delicious Indian cuisine restaurant, and the drinks were available in well-labeled coolers that were reminiscent of Whitey – the second refrigerator that Richard kept in his previous home to provide drinks for his guests. Whitey included a diagram on the door that mapped where to find which beverages within. I wonder if Whitey made the move to Richard and Abigail’s condo…?
The tables were decorated with Christmas-themed table runners and pipe cleaner pine trees, in keeping with the May-December theme. Unfortunately, the tables were designed for children aged (and sized) eleven to thirteen; not full-grown (and then some) adults. I wasn’t the only who had trouble sitting, and the WGH wisely sat on a folded chair on the end (that would have crushed my thighs).
Although dancing would occur later on in the reception, Brian and I left early. We told everyone it was because we had work to do on the house (that we’ll be doing next weekend), but really because I was getting overheated, and y’all know I don’t deal well with the heat. When we said our goodbyes, I jokingly stated to Abigail that she could do better, which she wisely countered with “Oh, no. He’s the best.” (I sincerely hope she realized I was teasing because I felt awful the rest of the evening worrying if I offended her.) I did tell her that Richard is a wonderful guy – which is the truth. Many years ago, I was thinking of matching him with J. V. Jones, who was a Guest of Honor at Odyssey Con in 2011, but I didn’t because a. she lives in California, and b. I’m a horrible matchmaker.
I’m ecstatic that Richard found the love of his life. Abigail seems wonderful, too; at the very least, she has an excellent sense of humor considering her very fun wedding.
Pog ma thoin!
-Lori
“I know that when ye think o’ love you’re supposed to think o’ kissy faces and scented soap and hummin’ happy songs together, but there’s another vital part to it that people rarely admit to themselves: We want somebody to rescue us from other people. From talking to them, I mean, or from the burden of giving a damn about what they say. We don’t want to be polite and stifle our farts, now do we? We want to let ‘em rip and we want to be with someone who won’t care if we do, who will love us regardless and fart right back besides.” – Owen Kennedy, Staked by Kevin Hearne
Tuesday, May 17, 2016
Another Fine Mother’s Day
Long time readers of my blog will know that I used to hate Mother’s Day (MD) even more than I loathed Christmas. I can give the same reason why I like Christmas and MD now: Brian, the World’s Greatest Husband (WGH).
Knowing that money is perennially tight, I told the WGH that although I wanted “something special” for MD, I wanted something small and inexpensive. In years past, the WGH has bought a range of items from the silly: a Ratbert Doll; to the expensive: a pair of gold hoop earrings containing cats playing with balls, which were diamonds; to the “oh, he knows me so well”: a Gameboy Advance SP handheld with the original Legend of Zelda, which I still play.
The day prior to MD, we had gone to the local farmer’s market to buy marigolds that my late mother loved to plant every year around her home, but unfortunately none were available. We tried a local greenhouse that was so busy, the line to check-out was as long as one of the greenhouses, and only two cashiers; so I decided to go to the local Hy-Vee, which had the flowers and no waiting at the check-out. We visited the cemetery where my parents are buried, and I put the flowers in the vase my brother wisely ordered for their marker.
This year, MD was a tad early on the 8th of May, so the usual round of hideous jewelry ads mercifully was kept to a minimum. I don’t care that Kay Jewelers has a Star Wars line; the WGH knows that I prefer the offerings from ThinkGeek.com. One article in the pre-MD media was from an advice column from a woman who complained that every MD was spent visiting her mother-in-law. I guess the letter writer doesn’t have an amazing MiL like I do.
I can’t think of anywhere in the world I’d rather spend MD than with my in-laws; I’ve called my MiL “Mom” since the day I married the WGH. Mekhi was with his Mom #1/bio-mom, so he wasn’t with us, much to my MiL’s disappointment; she adores Mekhi. Mom did like the bouquet of flowers from Brian and the photo collage with a lovely MiL poem from me (I didn’t write the poem, but it was a nice sentiment). We had a delicious luncheon, too, thanks to Brian’s brother and sister-in-law.
On the way home, Brian asked if I wanted to go to our FLGS for my MD present: a copy of the Puppies booster pack for my Munchkin collection. Yes! The perfect gift: small, inexpensive, and meaningful: Puppies from our puppies! I called to make sure one was available before we drove out of our way, and the friendly staff set one aside for me.
Brian and I planned to mow the lawn that day, but we didn’t because we had to go back to Mom and Dad’s: he left his cell phone. When we finally made it home in the late afternoon, I had to fold three weeks of clean laundry and put it all away. Yes, I had to do housework on MD, but I didn’t care; it was still a nice day.
Because of a change in her work situation, Mekhi is taken to school by Mom #1 on some days, and by us only on the days he stays with us. Later in the week after MD, I found a beautiful card on the dining room table with a small plastic frame that said “Mom” on it from our son. I cried joyful tears at such a perfect gift. Now I have to find a picture of me and Mekhi to put in it.
Pog ma thoin!
-Lori/Mom #2
“Musical taste is like children: nobody thinks theirs is ugly.” – John Kovalic
Knowing that money is perennially tight, I told the WGH that although I wanted “something special” for MD, I wanted something small and inexpensive. In years past, the WGH has bought a range of items from the silly: a Ratbert Doll; to the expensive: a pair of gold hoop earrings containing cats playing with balls, which were diamonds; to the “oh, he knows me so well”: a Gameboy Advance SP handheld with the original Legend of Zelda, which I still play.
The day prior to MD, we had gone to the local farmer’s market to buy marigolds that my late mother loved to plant every year around her home, but unfortunately none were available. We tried a local greenhouse that was so busy, the line to check-out was as long as one of the greenhouses, and only two cashiers; so I decided to go to the local Hy-Vee, which had the flowers and no waiting at the check-out. We visited the cemetery where my parents are buried, and I put the flowers in the vase my brother wisely ordered for their marker.
This year, MD was a tad early on the 8th of May, so the usual round of hideous jewelry ads mercifully was kept to a minimum. I don’t care that Kay Jewelers has a Star Wars line; the WGH knows that I prefer the offerings from ThinkGeek.com. One article in the pre-MD media was from an advice column from a woman who complained that every MD was spent visiting her mother-in-law. I guess the letter writer doesn’t have an amazing MiL like I do.
I can’t think of anywhere in the world I’d rather spend MD than with my in-laws; I’ve called my MiL “Mom” since the day I married the WGH. Mekhi was with his Mom #1/bio-mom, so he wasn’t with us, much to my MiL’s disappointment; she adores Mekhi. Mom did like the bouquet of flowers from Brian and the photo collage with a lovely MiL poem from me (I didn’t write the poem, but it was a nice sentiment). We had a delicious luncheon, too, thanks to Brian’s brother and sister-in-law.
On the way home, Brian asked if I wanted to go to our FLGS for my MD present: a copy of the Puppies booster pack for my Munchkin collection. Yes! The perfect gift: small, inexpensive, and meaningful: Puppies from our puppies! I called to make sure one was available before we drove out of our way, and the friendly staff set one aside for me.
Brian and I planned to mow the lawn that day, but we didn’t because we had to go back to Mom and Dad’s: he left his cell phone. When we finally made it home in the late afternoon, I had to fold three weeks of clean laundry and put it all away. Yes, I had to do housework on MD, but I didn’t care; it was still a nice day.
Because of a change in her work situation, Mekhi is taken to school by Mom #1 on some days, and by us only on the days he stays with us. Later in the week after MD, I found a beautiful card on the dining room table with a small plastic frame that said “Mom” on it from our son. I cried joyful tears at such a perfect gift. Now I have to find a picture of me and Mekhi to put in it.
Pog ma thoin!
-Lori/Mom #2
“Musical taste is like children: nobody thinks theirs is ugly.” – John Kovalic
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