How to Plan a (Destination) Wedding (on a Dime) in Ten Days

Preface

There are a number of titles I could have chosen for this post.  "How to Plan a Wedding in Ten Days While Staying (Mostly) Sane," for instance.  Or perhaps, "How to Plan a Wedding in Ten Days Without (Completely) Ignoring Your Husband and Children."  Another one might be, "How to Plan Your Sister's Wedding in Ten Days Without Crying (Every Day) for Your Mommy."  Then there could easily be a follow-up post titled something like "Re-Learning How to Cook and Clean House After Planning a Wedding in Ten Days," although that doesn't sound particularly interesting to me.

But before I go into how this wedding was planned in such a short space of time, I should probably answer the question of why.  In a nutshell: My younger sister Essie and her fiance were done with not being married.

Back Story

After dating for just over a year, during which time they fell head over heels in love, Essie and Benjamin looked at their lives and realized that they wanted to be together...forever.  And not the kind of "together" where they meet up after work each day for long talks, a kiss goodbye, and then texts back and forth from their respective apartments, but the kind of together where they make all their decisions around each other, wake up next to each other, come home to each other at night, and cast their lots together for better or for worse, for richer or poorer.  So this spring, when it looked like Benjamin might be getting a job that would keep them apart for three months unless they were married, they chose a tentative wedding date: July 26, 2014.

"We're so in love! Is it July yet?"

Chapter 1: Plan to Plan

"We might be getting married on July 26th!" Essie bubbled over the phone to me one day in mid-April.  "We're just waiting to set the date until we hear for sure whether Benjamin gets that job or not.  We should know in the next couple weeks."  Okay, about three months to plan a wedding...still shockingly fast for some people, but doable.  Definitely doable.

Fast-forward to the first week of July.  Essie talks with me on the phone again.  "Well, we should hear about that job any day now...so we're going to go ahead and start the wedding planning.  Benjamin and I are going to have it all planned out by the end of this week.  If we don't know about the job by July 15th," her voice drooped sadly, "we'll postpone the wedding."

During that week, here's what Essie, Benjamin, and I--their unofficial wedding coordinator--planned together:

• the general region of the state the wedding would be held in (dependent on venue location);
• the kind of venue the wedding would be in (dependent on availability after the 15th, since it was too late for refundable reservations);
• a general number of invitees (give-or-take 50, dependent on venue availability);
• the kind of food we would serve (dependent on number of invitees and venue);
• the amount we would spend on the wedding (goal: $3,500.00, including dress, venue, and food; see "Money Matters" for how we did it);
• the time of day the ceremony would be held (2 p.m.).

At least there was one thing that could be nailed down with certainty!

Chapter 2: Don't Freak Out

On July 15th, I checked my phone about every two minutes.  Finally, I got the call.  It was from Benjamin.  "We didn't get that job," he started slowly.  "But it looks like we have another one," excitement growing in his voice, "and we're going to do more research about it and talk with a few people.  We'll call you back a little later."

I turned my ringer up full-volume.

When it rang again several hours later, it was Essie.  "We're getting married on the 26th!!!!" she gushed.  "I'm so excited!!!!!"  Aaaaaaaand GO.

My planning and organizing brain cells instantly began firing on all cylinders and the first thought in my mind was GET VENUE.  The love birds wanted a cabin-type home in the mountains...just outside a national park (but within an hour driving distance from the cities my grandparents live in)...that could house 12 out-of-town guests before and after the wedding...with yard space to hold the ceremony...and indoor space to hold the reception.  There are probably a ton of homes with those parameters available in July 2015.  I went back to the research we'd done at the beginning of the month and started making phone calls, hoping that rental offices would still be open late in the day.

The office I tried first was open.  She had one house available in the area that could accommodate 12 people overnight.  She emailed me paperwork.  I glanced over the amenities, photos, and rental agreement; signed and scanned paperwork; and emailed her back.  I gave her my credit card number.  We had a wedding venue!

Pretty, right?

Now we could start planning decor and food, just as soon as we figured out how many guests the house would hold.  I squinted at the photos online, trying to gauge how much floor/yard space there was, and wished I lived in the area so I could check it out personally.  Essie and I agreed to talk in the morning about guests.  I went to bed and slept...a little.

Chapter 3: Freak Out

When people and events are moving quickly, sometimes miscommunication happens.  Sometimes, when a wedding coordinator says, "How many people are on your guest list?" she thinks she's asking, "How many people are you wanting to invite?" but what the bride and groom actually hear is, "How many people are coming?"  Sometimes the wedding coordinator has settled her mind on a max number of guests that will fit into the venue, but doesn't manage to clearly communicate this to the bride and groom.

This became alarmingly clear as I was walking through a shopping center on the morning of July 16th, holding a protein-boosted fruit smoothie in one hand and gripping my phone in the other.  "All right," breathed Essie, "it looks like we have about 70 people coming!"

"Oh," I gulped, feeling sudden panic rush its way up my throat.  "I was thinking we'd need to max out at 40."

During the long pause that followed, my mind raced out of control.  I can't plan a wedding for 70 people in ten days!  But I have to!  I can't fit that many people into a house!  But I have to!  We have to change venues!  But we can't!  We have to up the food budget!  We have to rent chairs!  We have to...we have to...AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!

The silence on the phone was broken by Essie and I exchanging one or two very articulate sentences of, "Oh!  Ummm, okay.  Uhhhh..." and then my phone battery died.  It was a timely death because for the first time in this planning process, I had hit a problem I had no idea what to do with.  I was stumped.  I was scared.  I felt guilty for my end of the miscommunication.  I drove home in a highly-charged state of freak-out, whimpering out desperate prayers for guidance.  Once home, I plugged in my phone and flopped face-down on my bed, wailing into the mattress, my problem-solving mind completely overwhelmed by my panicked emotions.

After some deep breathing, more prayer, and a few tense and awkward phone calls, the list of attending guests was finalized at 41, with two casual get-togethers scheduled for those who wouldn't be able to join the wedding.  (Shout-out to my youngest sister Em, who planned and hosted a wedding shower by herself with one-week's notice.)

Chapter 4: Delegate (So You Don't Freak Out)

By the morning of the 17th, everyone was (mostly) calm again, and I moved to the next stage: Food, favors, and decor.

Because Benjamin's new job would be taking them across the country, he and Essie were neck-deep in preparing to move, giving notice at their respective places of employment, putting items in storage, and planning a honeymoon-cross-country-road-trip, so they handed off many of the wedding details to me.

I, in turn, handed off figuring out wedding favors to Em.  Claire (second-oldest sister) trundled her 2-year old and 5-week old along to grocery stores, scouting out prices on sandwiches, desserts, and snacks.  Elle (Dad's wife, who only lives an hour from the wedding site) went to check out the lay of the land.  Jay took over figuring out meals for G, Z, and me in the meantime, and dealt with the everyday of dishes and laundry.

Strawberries: Yummy, easy, and reasonably-priced.

Once Em and Claire got back to me with their ideas and findings, I started synthesizing and bringing things together.  The two of them drove to my town on Friday the 18th so we could make the favors and brainstorm decor (fortunately, the three of of us live within two hours of each other).

S'mores kits. Adorable for a mountain wedding, right?

It was really nice for the three of us to be together, but we were completely exhausted by the end of the day (shout-out to Claire, who brought 6-week old Baby M along, nursing him between errands!).

Chapter 5: Let Someone Else Do the Freaking Out

After doing sister stuff all day Friday and being gone all that evening, I saw this text from Elle: "lvng wedding location. can we talk?"

Relief flooded through me.  She's loving the wedding location!  Yay!!!  The one available cabin turned out to be perfect!  We're going to be okay!

I sent a happy text reply back...and then noticed there were several other earlier texts from her.  It quickly became clear that she had not meant "loving" the location, but "leaving" the location.  I read the message string holding my breath.

"just parked at cabin. ground really uneven. very dry and weedy. patio is small."
"narrow streets. bad parking."
"not much shade."
"no level place to set up chairs."

I started some deep breathing.  Having already had my own freak-out session, I could sense Elle's growing panic between the lines.  I read the next text.

"talked with nice neighbor across street. he has flat space. maybe ceremony there?"

It was almost 9:30 p.m. and I was exhausted from the busy day, but these messages merited an immediate phone call.  Elle gave me the whole story.

Apparently, after watching her wander around outside the cabin for 45 minutes wearing a grim face, an elderly neighbor approached and asked what was wrong.  When he heard the situation, Mr. Dan--weathered, bald, and cheerful--immediately pointed out his level, weed-free, partially-shaded, large side-yard, and asked if it would work for a wedding ceremony.  The wrinkly angel offered use of his bathroom.  He offered to talk with the neighbors and give them a heads-up about the event.  He showed a wide swath of road and his large driveway where people would be free to park their cars.

He basically saved the day.

"So what do you think?" Elle asked me when she finished relaying the story.  "Should we take him up on his offer?"

I didn't hesitate.  "YES. I'm not even going to talk with Essie about it.  Let's do it.  We'll stretch the wedding budget to give him a thank-you gift."

Relief flooded Elle's voice on the other end of the phone.  She could stop freaking out now.

Chapter 6: Take a Break

Monday was Z's 6th birthday so I took the entire day off from wedding planning.  It was great!  And while I had very little creative energy available for his birthday dessert, he was happy with the chaotic festive result.

What is it about boys and skeleton pirates?  Or maybe it's just Z.

Chapter 7: Keep Moving

Tuesday through Thursday were All Wedding All Day.  I don't even really know what Jay and the kids did during those four days, but I didn't starve to death, so I'm guessing Jay was involved in feeding me somehow.

• Put together a detailed budget: Check. This being the fourth wedding I've done, I had a leg-up on getting this done over the bride and groom.
• Choose music to sing with Em and Claire during the reception: Check.
• Distribute driving directions to the guests: Check.  It only took one road trip, three adults, and two map browsers to figure it out.
• Scan Pinterest for directional road sign ideas: Check.
• Go to craft store for road sign supplies and spend extra time being distracted by fabrics I'd love to make curtains out of for my home: Check.
• Make direction signs for key road corners: Check.

We wired bright yellow silk 'mums to them. Looked pretty!

• Decide on reception menu: Check.  (Pre-made sandwiches, fruit, hummus and veggies, cookies and brownies.)
• Figure out meals for the overnight guests before and after the wedding: Yikes.
• Make shopping lists for aforementioned food: Double yikes.

Most wedding planners help the happy couple plan food for the reception.  Unlike most wedding planners, I also planned meals and snacks for the people staying overnight at the cabin.  Taking into account the 41 reception guests, I needed to plan six meals (plus snacks) for an average of 18 people per meal; and since I don't live in the wedding area, I couldn't do the shopping myself, which meant coordinating with multiple people for purchasing and transporting; and since we were planning on fresh sandwiches and produce for the reception, someone would have to hit the store again the day of.

With all these moving parts, the shopping list stage took me 4 hours.  Just to write the lists.

• Continually check the weather forecast: Check.  One dismal prediction suggested a temp of 104 degrees F for the 26th.
• Look into canopy and chair rentals, but give up after seeing the prices: Check.
• Touch bases with the florist who also happily happens to be our cousin: Check.
• Search Pinterest for outdoor decorating ideas involving a tree: Check.

So beautiful, right? I hoped Mr. Dan's tree would work for this.

• Hit a thrift store for fabric to copy Pinterest idea and find an incredible deal: Check.
• Go shopping for a new dress and find another incredible deal: Check.

Navy blue and white: two of my favorite colors!

• Pack, pack, pack, and pack some more: Check.
• Reclaim some inner peace with the bracing odor of acrylics and acetone: Check.

Now we get to Friday morning the 25th, the day before the wedding.  Jay, the kids, and I are slated to leave for the cabin at 1:00 p.m., and the checklist continues.

• Drive 20 minutes and back to a feed store to buy new pellets for my rabbit who had refused to eat the regular brand for an entire week: Check.
• Visit the public library for children's books on CD to entertain the boys during our 2.5 hour drive to the cabin: Check.  I went with How to Train Your Dragon read by David Tennant; we'd seen the movie so I figured it would be a fun book!
• Fill the car with gasoline: Check.
• Feed the dumb, picky rabbit the new pellets and notice that my neglected tomato plants were literally falling over: Check.
• Pick 7 pounds of ripe tomatoes, puree them, and throw them in the freezer: Check.

• Quickly re-check the cabin rental website to see if it comes with an iron and board (yes): Check.
• Skip a heart beat when I realize the amenities page doesn't list air conditioning, but look again at the description and see "includes central heating and air conditioning," and so avoid major freak-out: Check.
• See that the website doesn't list "wireless internet" but it does list "internet," and congratulate myself for landing a cabin with the crucial things we need: Check.
• Remember--just in time--that I'd promised to loan my wedding veil to Essie: Check.
• Pull out the veil, notice that one of the crystals has fallen off the headband, fight a moment of panic, find the crystal in the bottom of the storage bag, and superglue the crystal back on: Check.

Not in bad shape for hanging in my closet for almost 12 years!

• Pile up bags and boxes by the front door so Jay can expertly load the trunk of our sedan: Check.
• Leave the house at 1:30 p.m., just 30 minutes later than planned: Check.

Chapter 8: Freak Out Again

Having listened to exactly half of How to Train Your Dragon (which predictably was absolutely nothing like the movie, except that it involved Vikings and dragons and was an exciting tale), we arrived without incident at the cabin at 4:00 Friday afternoon.  The spicy scent of pine needles baking in the heat hovered in the still mountain air.  It was peaceful, but it was hot.

So the first thing I did while Jay carted armfuls of gear up the stairs was to turn on the A/C.  The kids helped me find the thermostat and I cheerfully mashed the temp control buttons.

Nothing happened.

My heart rate increased.

I mashed the buttons a little more.  Stay calm, stay calm.  There was definitely an intake vent.  There were definitely floor vents.  There was definitely a fan somewhere under the house moving the air slightly.  But there was no hum of a compressor, no relieving rush of cold air.

I started to sweat.

Jay popped his head into the hallway where I was standing.  "I haven't found an internet password anywhere," he announced.  Leaving the thermostat for a few minutes, I searched the rooms for some sort of internet hookup.  Nada.

At least I had cell phone signal.

"Hi," I started when the property manager answered my phone call, "um, I can't seem to get the air conditioning started."

"Oh," she returned, "that cabin doesn't have air conditioning."

A desperate scream rose in my throat.  We're having a party of 41 people here tomorrow!  We have children sleeping here overnight!  It's going to be 100 degrees during the ceremony!  I get heat stroke!  We have elderly people coming!  How could I have rented a house without air conditioning?????!!!!

The phone shaking slightly in my trembling hand, I tried to keep my voice calm and explained that the website had boasted central air.  When she asked me to describe where on the website it said that, I responded, "Well I can't tell you exactly, because we don't have internet here either."

"I could give you a discount, but maybe I'd better move you to a different house," she offered.  "I have one 20 minutes away, but it only sleeps eight people."  Quickly calculating in my mind how many of us would have to sleep on the floor, I told her I'd call her back in a few minutes.

But there were way too many moving parts to change locations.  We were going to have to sweat it out.  Essie and Benjamin would be happy about the reduction in rent, at least!

Chapter 9: Fight the Guilt

That night, lying in bed--or should I say on bed, since the mattress had all the give of a trampoline--with windows wide open and fans blowing (the prop. mgr. brought over a box fan and and iron/board since those hadn't materialized either), I felt miserable.

"Jay," I whispered over the whir of the fan above our heads, "I feel like everything that goes wrong with this weekend is going to be my fault.  I'm the one that rented the house.  I'm the one that decided on the shopping lists.  So many of the details are ones I worked out.  What if I've ruined my sister's wedding?"

Jay held my hand while I squeezed my eyes tightly shut against the lies of guilt.  Then--thank the Lord for Al-Anon!--I made myself review some important principles I've learned:

1. I'm powerless over fillintheblank.
2. God can give me peace.
3. I can be willing to Let Go and Let God.
4. Just as I can't take credit for everything wonderful that happens in life, I can't take blame for all the difficulties.

With these reminders filtering through my mind, I slept for a few hours.

At 3 a.m., I awoke to hear that the large outdoor fountain's rush of water had slowed to a trickle.  Premonitions of having to replace an electric pump flooded my mind, so I got out of bed to refill it; and while outside in the cool (finally), quiet air, I looked up.

Stars.

Thousands of bright, twinkling stars with an arm of the Milky Way sweeping across the perfectly clear, deep ebony sky.  I whispered Thank You with every exhalation of breath, my bare feet planted on the dusty patio, my face fixed upward.

The view of those stars was totally worth being unable to fall back asleep for the next two hours.  Who really needs more than four hours of sleep the night before a wedding anyway?

Chapter 10: Have the Wedding

While the bride, the groom, the matron of honor (Em), and the photographer spent a three-hour session higher in the mountains doing pictures, I hit the morning's daunting to-do list, interrupted only by a glimpse of Essie in her/my veil (I cried) and brief hugs with early-arriving guests:

• rearrange cabin furniture
• decorate the ceremony site in Mr. Dan's yard
• set up chairs and borrowed canopy at ceremony site (Jay and the Best Man helped)
• prepare table for food and beverages
• arrange extra cut flowers from florist (Elle and the groom's SIL helped)
• send a BIL to put up direction signs and get ice
• make beverages (my auntie helped)
• send ice chest full of water bottles across the street (my dad and brother carried it)
• oh yeah: shower, dress, and do make-up in time for family photos at 1:00

During the showering and dressing process, I realized that I had somehow neglected to pack--ahem--underwear.  Well this is a first, I mused, trying to see the funny side of the situation.  Do I go commando or what?

The cabin was already swirling with early guests, but fortunately I had my cell phone in the room with me.  None other than the bride herself came to my rescue, lending the required garment from her own packed suitcase.

By 1:00, everything was done.  All the family had arrived (without anyone getting lost), everything was in place, my kids were in their wedding clothes and relatively clean, and all that was left to do was smile for pictures, joke about sweaty underarms, rearrange all the ceremony chairs into the illusive shade, sit down, and try to turn off my mental lists until the reception started.

Essie was glowing.

She was positively radiant.

Benjamin's smiles spread over his whole face.

The thrift store fabric I'd bought draped gracefully over Mr. Dan's tree, joining Essie's bridal veil in a creamy dreamy white flutter with each breath of warm breeze.

The pastor's reverent words and the couple's heartfelt vows were spoken and sealed with rings and an ardent kiss; we applauded and sniffed back tears.

My sister was married.

Epilogue

Today is Wednesday, July 30th.  It is exactly two weeks since Essie's excited phone call that the wedding would be happening.  As of this morning, Jay and I are completely caught up on laundry, there are very few dishes in the sink, I think all the wedding stuff is put away, and I might be ready to cook again in the next couple days.  (We can't live off frozen lasagna and burritos forever, I guess.)  My fingernail polish is starting to chip off, but I don't care because the only places I've gone this week are to the pool with the kids and an Al-Anon meeting.

I'll close this saga with a brief conversation I had with G on Sunday morning, as Jay and I were packing up the cabin.  G flopped down on a bed and remarked with a loud sigh, "Mommy, now I know why weddings are so much work.  There's so much to do!  And the first thing you have to do is make sure the two people getting married are marrying the right people."

"That's right G," I affirmed, his profound statement resonating through my exhaustion.  "That is the very most important thing, much more important than all the stuff we do to plan a wedding.  Aren't you glad Auntie Essie and Uncle Benjamin married the right people?"

"Yes I am!" he giggled shyly.

So am I.

Sunrise Surprise, 10 July 2014

This morning I woke up in the pre-dawn gray light and thought, "Oh good, I have another hour to sleep; I hope I don't start thinking about things that keep me awake."

But as I got re-snuggled down into my pillow, I heard through the open window a little thump.  Thump.  Thump.  "Uh, that's an unusual sound...but I'm ignoring it and going back to sleep."

Thump.  Thump.

"Fine."  I threw back the blankets to peer through the window, and saw my rabbit skittering around the rabbit run, ears up, nose twitching, breathing fast, and pausing every so often to thump his hind feet.  He was afraid of something.

Compassionate owner that I am, I threw on a sweatshirt and flip-flops and went out to investigate.  Sure enough, I could hear something rustling around in the thick hedge against the neighbor's back fence, but I couldn't see anything.  Raccoon?  'Possum?  Rat?  We don't have a lot of wildlife in our city neighborhood, but we clearly have something that scares a rabbit.  So I scooped up the bunny, put him safe and sound in his little hutch, and threw a few rocks in the direction I'd heard the noise.  What a hero I am.

I turned around to go back into the house and crawl under my still-warm blankets, when I looked up and saw it.  Not the animal.  The sky.  More specifically, the sunrise.

Going back to bed was forgotten.  I stood in my pjs and flip-flops on the wet grass and stared open-mouthed at the incredible display of beauty above me.  Thank You, thank You, I breathed over and over.

Then I ran to get the camera of course.  So from me to you, here's a little reminder that God loves us and makes beautiful things.  I'm going to have a thankful day today.

Sitting Close to Mom, 11 May 2014

Apparently, 1:00 in the afternoon on Mothers' Day is rush hour at the cemetery.  In the past thirty minutes, five families—not counting me—have come to lay flowers and balloons at the gravestones of their loved ones, their mothers and grandmothers.  Oddly enough, disproportionate to the county demographic, four of the families have been Asian, and I realized today that up until this afternoon I've only heard one other Asian woman cry.  Sonya, my dear Korean friend from church who has cried with me as we've mourned our respective losses, also happens to be the one who loaned me the beach chair I've planted myself in next to my mom's grave marker.

Today, I'm spending Mothers' Day with my mom.  Okay, technically I'm spending Mothers' Day in a chair on a grassy knoll next to a piece of rock with her name on it, under which sits an unremarkable can of precious dust, but I feel closer to her here.  Her remains (how clinical that sounds!) are buried in a little cemetery not one mile from where I grew up;  a plot of grass surrounded by non-irrigated fields browned by the sun, shaded by a cluster of old pines and flanked by a range of brown and blue mountains in the near distance.  [Eew, gross!  Did you have to hack up a spit-wad, O giggling teen visitor?  I was just starting to feel poetic.]

Mom used to love wandering through cemeteries.  I think she liked the quiet—and a mother of six certainly would—and she was fascinated by the history behind old grave stones.  She liked to wander around and see what the earliest dates were.  Honestly, it seemed kinda weird to me, although the history part of it was cool.  We weren't a family with traditions of visiting family plots, though.  I think I've been to my paternal grandfather's site once, as a child, and I'm not even sure which cemetery it's in.  I've seen the site of my maternal great-grandparents a few times, but only while attending the burials of other ancient relatives.  So it definitely feels a little out of character to have driven two hours from my home just to sit in a beach chair next to a rock.

[The other visitors have all gone and a resident killdeer couple has made peace with my presence and stopped scolding me with their plaintive calls.  I see a squirrel sunning himself on the bordering chain-link fence; a blue scrub-jay hops around under a tree while a green hummingbird hovers in front of it.  I can tune out the occasional whoosh of passing cars on the country highway, and the gentle breeze breathes peace.]

But this rock has my mom's name carved into it: Constance.  A beautiful name, full of swirls and curves, with such a soothing meaning, “constant.”  One thing's for sure: Mom was constant.  When she committed to something, she saw it through—and saw it through excellently.

• She saw six children through homeschooling from Kindergarten through high school graduation, and she was able to watch the first four graduate with degrees from universities.

• She started dating my dad at 16, married him at 19, and nourished and cherished their beautiful marriage through thin and thick, sickness and health, until her passing out of the arms of her husband into the arms of her Savior, just eight days after her 33rd wedding anniversary.

• She and my dad bought five acres of empty, wild oat-strewn land three hours from their city home, not knowing when or if they would ever build.  The next year, they decided to go for it and put their house up for sale.  They had five little children (one a newborn) and my dad didn't have a job to relocate to, but no matter!  Mom and Dad felt God wanted them to move, so they did.  Mom watched God provide for them as they designed a new home, transitioned my dad into the—surprise!—new job he'd gotten, while she homeschooled three of the five kids and carried a sixth in her womb.  Over the next two decades, she spearheaded landscaping, gardening, sheep-raising, treehouse building, orchard planting, wallpapering, home library collecting, fruit canning (and even a foray into meat canning and food stockpiling before the threatening approach of Y2K), the occasional needlepoint, and so many other projects.

• She played organ, her instrument of choice, for countless church services, playing with tenderness and passion.  Receiving her Master's degree in music at the age of 45 (a year before I got my Bachelor's in music), she took great joy and care in choosing music and playing it with love and skill.  She had many disparaging things to say about electric organs, reed organs, and organs played all “mushy” with tremolo.  She liked crisp, clean, open, beautiful sound.  One of her greatest joys was trying out pipe organs in historical churches.

• While my youngest four siblings were still in high school, Mom and Dad bought a mountain lot and designed and built a beautiful rustic-looking home as a rental investment.  For months, Mom scoured city thrift stores and yard sales for furniture and decor to fill each of the mountain home's eight or so rooms.  Books, paintings on rough-hewn boards, distressed-wood chairs and dressers, quaint bed posts, fishing poles, even a little pump organ--every detail needed to outfit the rental home with care and style.  Oh, and did I mention that these were the first years she was undergoing intensive care for her newly-diagnosed polymyositis?  Talk about dedication.

Her canned peaches were always colorful and the right sweetness to tart ratio.  Her landscaping design was always a wonderful balance between the manicured and the barely-tamed.  Her interior decorating was always homey and welcoming.  Her music was always well thought-out.  Her children were well-educated and her husband well-loved and her whole life well-lived.  Yes, my mom was constant.

And I constantly miss her.

So being at this middle-of-nowhere cemetery surrounded by granite signs of people's losses, I sit, feeling close to Mom.  And isn't it the height of irony and beauty that the scolding killdeer has made her nest on a grave marker?  Level with the ground, in an unremarkable can empty of decoration, she sits on four speckled eggs, waiting for life to hatch out.  I’m sitting near a grave right now, too.  How long am I going to sit next to the dead, waiting for new life and joy to “hatch” in my life?  I don't know.

But I do know that today I needed to sit.  To warm myself with memories of Mom and care for my fragile heart by letting the calm of the countryside caress me.  I can be like the killdeer.  I can sit, and I can tend the nest of my heart, and I can wait for joy and breaths hungry for life to hatch.

It's coming.

Doin' Good, 10 March 2013

Today before church, at three separate moments, people asked how I was doing and I answered cheerfully, "Good!"  They looked visibly surprised, tilting their heads slightly and raising their eyebrows.  Ha.  It seems people have gotten used to me answering "Okay," or "Today's a hard day," or "That's a complicated question."  And for good reason!

But today I really am doin' good (or "doing well," for those of you who appreciate non-colloquially-correct grammar).  The sun is shining, my wedding-to-funeral ratio for this calendar year is 2-1, and I've spent some wonderful time this week out in nature.

The first nature trek was another snow day, but this time my dad joined us.  When I was young, my family would do at least one snow day every winter, and my dad's the one who taught us how to dress and play to avoid cold, wet, and misery.  This past Friday was the first time I'd been to the snow with my dad for about a decade, and it was my kids' very first time going with him!

We had a blast playing, and my heart filled up with happyjuice seeing the snow-laden foliage, hearing the patter of falling snow off trees, and feeling the soft scrunch of drifts under my boots.

Plus, my kids are adorable in snow hats.  (So is my dad, in his own manly way.)

Hey, how come I don't get to ride?

Will G fly off the edge of the cliff?  No, Grandpa will catch him.  And hit him with a giant snowball at the same time.

The drive itself to and from the mountains was absolutely gorgeous, now that the grasses are green and orchards are beginning to bloom.  We got home at around 4 in the afternoon, long enough for me to throw dinner together, throw snow clothes in the laundry, and let Grandpa and the kids recover from the exertion of throwing snowballs.  My dad drove back to his house after dinner, and I'm pretty sure he slept loooong and hard that night.

The next day, Saturday, Jay and the kids and I had a leisurely morning capped off by Jay taking the boys out to do lunch and some errands, leaving me--drum roll please--all alone!!!

I considered pulling weeds, shoe shopping, writing letters, and sleeping, but in the end decided on taking a drive into the hills by myself and having a prayer/nature walk.  I checked on a map some side-roads I'd noticed on our way to the snow, and discovered there was an intriguing little road in the hills leading to a reservoir.

A sack lunch went into my backpack, an uplifting playlist came out of my iPod, and I was off.  

Just beginning the rise up from the valley, a line of cows graze along creek bluffs.

The stream and the glowing grass both sparkle.

After a glorious hour of driving (the last 5 miles of which were on a barely-paved one-lane road), I pulled off the road and walked the rest of the way to the reservoir, snapping pictures and praying as I went.  Perhaps beauty in nature doesn't affect everyone this way, but my heart feels so much closer to God, so much more receptive to the reality of His love and care, when I am surrounded by beautiful things He's created.

A barely-paved road of adventure...

...shared only by this group of cyclists and the rare SUV.  The valley floor is visible at the horizon.

This outcropping of rocks near my parking spot made a perfect high point for finding cell signal.

They were fun to climb!

View of the road from the top of the outcropping.

Birds must love having a roof like this!

When I pulled off the road, I actually didn't know how far it was to the reservoir; I hadn't looked that closely at the map.  But I quit driving because my eye was on the gas tank indicator, and I didn't feel like adding the "adventure" of running out of gas to my day.  So I decided to walk for as long as I wanted to, enjoying the views around me without being preoccupied by any particular destination.

A trickle of a stream runs through the bottom of this little gorge.

The micro-landscapes are amazing too!  These lichens and mosses are growing on a huge granite boulder.

Wild blackberries swallow everything in their path.

A gate: To keep cows inside or cyclists out?

After about 30 minutes of walking and taking pictures, a pickup hauling a dripping boat drove passed me, suggesting to me that I was not far from the reservoir.  Sure enough, ten more minutes of walking brought me suddenly into wide-open, windy spaces, with the lake's little white-capped waves lapping at the shore.

I'm guessing the brownish color is due to a stirring-up by recent storms.

A great view for cleaning fish, if you're into that kind of thing!

Even though the walk back was a return by the same road, the scenery looked a little different going the other direction.  And it took my breath away to find gaps in the trees that revealed valley views I'd had my back to before.

Can you make out that very faint, thin blue line at the top of the valley's green horizon? Those are the hills all the way on the other side of the valley.  Thrilling!

It's been fun to share these photographs from my adventure with you!  I'm sure those of you who are still locked in snowscapes will appreciate the greens; and maybe this can be a reminder for the rest of us to get outside and enjoy them.  :-)