Home again, home again, jiggety-jig
Just got back from Emmy's wedding, safe and sound and in one piece! (If any crises or marvels have happened over the last four days, I have totally missed them. Sorry! Please alert me if so.)
The wedding was entirely lovely -- an Episcopal church wedding (with all the ritual of my childhood, firmly graven in despite the fact that I am a little heathen who stopped going to church when I was 13 or so), performed jointly by the church's minister and Emmy's aunt, and full of love and ritual both. And then the dinner and reception, and the party afterwards, and may I say that Emmy's family is exactly as delightful and ridiculous (in all the best ways) as one would expect of a family that produced her. And all of her non-Milliways friends are awesome, too. It was a great gathering.
(Even if half of them probably think certain of us are even weirder than we actually are, given that half the time her name came out as "Em-[realname].")
I will do a longer report later, probably, since I believe such is requested by the bride for commemoration purposes. And I could not deny anything of such a lovely and radiantly happy bride. (Even if she didn't probably have blackmail material on me.)
But for now, I will put this up so everyone knows I am alive, and then go to sleep. Because I just drove about four and a half hours, as my share of the driving of a fabulous road trip with Shati and Karen and Debi that involved pie at a 24-hour New Jersey diner and silly songs and expositing about horses and the history of Islam, but also involved driving along the part of I-95 that goes through New York City because apparently Karen's GPS system Boomer went slightly crazy or slightly sadistic for the trip home. (We took a different route coming down, despite the programmed end-points being exactly the same. Possibly naming the GPS system after a Cylon was not the best of ideas.) And I am braindead, and my whiny cat is demanding attention after a whole weekend of having to deal with abandonment even though, uh, Sandry was around to take perfectly good care of her.
And I have tomorrow off. :D
The wedding was entirely lovely -- an Episcopal church wedding (with all the ritual of my childhood, firmly graven in despite the fact that I am a little heathen who stopped going to church when I was 13 or so), performed jointly by the church's minister and Emmy's aunt, and full of love and ritual both. And then the dinner and reception, and the party afterwards, and may I say that Emmy's family is exactly as delightful and ridiculous (in all the best ways) as one would expect of a family that produced her. And all of her non-Milliways friends are awesome, too. It was a great gathering.
(Even if half of them probably think certain of us are even weirder than we actually are, given that half the time her name came out as "Em-[realname].")
I will do a longer report later, probably, since I believe such is requested by the bride for commemoration purposes. And I could not deny anything of such a lovely and radiantly happy bride. (Even if she didn't probably have blackmail material on me.)
But for now, I will put this up so everyone knows I am alive, and then go to sleep. Because I just drove about four and a half hours, as my share of the driving of a fabulous road trip with Shati and Karen and Debi that involved pie at a 24-hour New Jersey diner and silly songs and expositing about horses and the history of Islam, but also involved driving along the part of I-95 that goes through New York City because apparently Karen's GPS system Boomer went slightly crazy or slightly sadistic for the trip home. (We took a different route coming down, despite the programmed end-points being exactly the same. Possibly naming the GPS system after a Cylon was not the best of ideas.) And I am braindead, and my whiny cat is demanding attention after a whole weekend of having to deal with abandonment even though, uh, Sandry was around to take perfectly good care of her.
And I have tomorrow off. :D