stay on target

Another wedding weekend come and gone.

We left at about 11:30p Thursday night and zipped up I-95 with no traffic inhibiting our progress – we even took the GW Bridge through Manhattan at 4am. Although, even at that hour, you have to tighten up the game after getting through the toll booth, and blast across the island with trucks and locals hauling ass all around your personal escape module. It was just like shooting womp rats back home. We arrived at the Lodge in western Mass at about 7:30a, where I proceeded on a journey to napland for about three hours.

I dropped L. off in Brattleboro about noon – she’s a regular at Amy’s , the bead shop, and various bookstores - and then headed to Dummerston to get ready for the rehearsal and follow-on dinner. Everyone had a fine evening and it was quite nice to meet all the family and friends of the groom. The wedding was Saturday afternoon with the reception following just over the mountain in Dummerston proper. The weather fully cooperated for an outdoor event as clouds moved in to temper the heat, and the breeze kept everyone a bit cooler. The reception was a lovely, early evening affair that ran later as the Wonder Twins and bride kept everyone alive and kicking. After these few weeks, I’ve decided that weddings aren’t so bad, as long as no one makes further fun of my Virginia plantation hat and summer sport coat. You know who you are.

We drove back Sunday to beat the Holiday traffic and only had a slight delay in the Bronx as we tried to get onto the GW going west. Nothing significant, but certainly enlightening into how New Yorkers drive.

When we were leaving in the dark of night on Thursday, Lemon positioned herself at the bottom of the driveway, precisely in full view of my side view mirror. This was no accident. She knew we were leaving and she meant to make herself very clear in the unhappiness department. I’d never seen anything like it before, but I shouldn’t really be surprised. She also waited about 24 hours between our return home and her first appearance in the house. She can be a tad difficult.

We have three weeks and counting before a proper, weeklong, vacation at Old Orchard Beach in Maine. This is the second venture beyond the safe confines of Stowe (the first being Magog, Quebec) so the judges will be out in full force.