This has been a crazy, crazy summer – super busy…and I can’t believe that one of the ‘big’ events is now in the past. Yet…I’m so happy that it lived up to the hype.
Know what I mean? Ever had something you were looking SO forward to, only to have it just be average? Like maybe a big birthday or a class reunion? Well – last week was my 20ten Summer Tour. And it was everything it was marketed to be.
You remember – it started with a trip to Anne Marie’s house to visit with her and my lil buddy, Jack. It was a quick trip in and out on the way to West Chester, but she and I are always able to pack in lots of good talk – and we did.
We visited the living history show out at the battlefields near her house (yeah…the field where Lori’s dad used to live…we know…). Mainly it was an excuse to let Jack run wild while we worked off the damage from Cracker Barrel (eggs-in-a-basket, anyone?).
It worked – he got pretty worn out. And so did we. Still, it was actually cool to see these ‘living historians’ doing their best to repeat a few days in the exact style that they would have back in the Revolutionary times.
At least that’s what they told us – that they spent the weekend mimicking life in the 1700’s. (Okay, it could have been the 1800’s. I have no idea actually). They had tents and quilts (mind you, it was 90 degrees out…) and cook stoves to prove it.
Which is why I was a bit surprised on Sunday to see the group of them exiting a van and entering the Cracker Barrel on my way out of town. I’m not saying THEY were wrong. I’m just saying, I didn’t know Cracker Barrel had been around that long.
You already saw a good summary of the week in the last blog – but, not the BIG day. Some near catastrophes:
* The second I crossed the boarder into Pennsylvania…I developed a wicked case of ragweed nostril explosion. There’s nothing quite as exciting as realizing you are developing a sickness days before one of your closest friend’s wedding.
* I also developed Prickly Heat. Now…I don’t mean to brag…but I’m from North Carolina. Where it’s generally hotter than hell. And humid. And I like it. If I walk outside and develop sweat beads on my ankles (that’s for you, Bob), I’m happy as can be. So how is it possible that I would develop Prickly Heat – a rash that appears when your body can’t handle the heat – in a state that generally runs 15 degrees cooler than my own? WTF anyone?? My saving grace is that the really, um, prickly areas were unseen by the public. If you ever get this affliction – just start with Butt Paste. It seems to be the best cure I’ve found. Beer also helps.
Okay, enough about me.
On the hottest day of the year…in the blazing sun…sweat pooling in so many places that the grass in the viewing area was puddled…Amy & John got hitched!
I laughed, I cried, I had the usual “this is never going to be me” moments of despair, followed by several moments of “I’d like the signature cocktail.”
I caught up with bunches of buddies from the past – the old gang hasn’t changed a bit – although Britt’s father looked an awful lot like my brother (Jeff got to be a last minute seat filler – and played the role of Floyd perfectly).
I got to go nuts with the Fancy Cam – definitely not the most important event of the weekend, but still…here are some faves…
This one is a reminder to all future brides (oh wait…I think I’m it, right?) to bring a nice hanger to the bridal suite.
And this one – well, what can I say – I love it.
And, in case you hadn’t heard – I did catch the bouquet. Granted, it was a private tossing between Amy, myself and the photographer (proof is important). This was probably the safest way to do it as I guaranteed a smack down to any of the young ladies who thought they were going to try and get in my way. Either way I would have won – this just had less First Aid potential.
And now I’m in the post-wedding-rut. A bit.
I still smile several times a day with flashbacks from the week.
Like when the power went out at my brother’s house and we decided to kill time (at 1.30am) by trying to put up as many Facebook updates as we could.
Or when Amy when to Panic Level Thirteen over the misplacement of her car keys meaning she couldn’t drive her car which was full of wedding stuff to the place o’marriage. And then she found them. In her purse.
I’m still catching up on my sleep.
My liver is still detoxing.
I went to the gym today and remembered my pledge to work out everyday during the 20ten tour (the failed pledge).
And I’m still coated in Butt Paste…although it’s getting better.