A Winery Trip

Trinity and I had an evening adventure at a local winery. The Mallow Run Winery was having a pizza night, featuring their wine and Bazbeaux Pizza, which is my favorite spot for pizza. We arrived at about 5:15, with all of the rest of Indiana. It was so crowded! There was a great mix of retirees, college kids, newly married couples and babies. Lots of babies. I didn't think babies were allowed in places such as wineries, but apparently babies like wine too.

We started off with a little wine tasting. Meet our wine expert, Stephanie. She also teaches at my school. Stephanie is very cool, calm and collected. I discovered she maintains the same level of calm serving Sweet T and I wine that she does teaching 3rd graders, and the two of us can get pretty rowdy. I mean who doesn't get raucous slurping down sweet Blackberry wine made in the Hoosier Heartland? Some of the wines tasted like fruity preserves, which is just my style. I don't do dry, unless we're talking humor.

The weather and pizza were great. Here Sweet T is leading me to the car around 8:00 p.m. We had to roll home early, because I missed my nap.

Our Postage Stamp-sized Home

Once upon a time in 2006 a 27 year old chick bought herself a prime piece of real estate. At a tad over 1100 square feet, I finally had a place of my own and it was quite spacious for me and Special K, aka Kashmir. Now that I have an extra resident, things are getting a little cramped.

The tiny feline that Trinity refers to as "Pork Chop" hasn't gotten any bigger.

We cannot buy a new home until Trinity sells his home in Tennessee. We currently have two homes, which makes us like real estate moguls, in my opinion. As much as I'd like to accrue assets and such, (this is stuff I learned from The Celebrity Apprentice) I really just want to have a wee bit more space. Not a lot. I don't need a big fancy pants house, with like 4,000+ square feet. That's obnoxious. Or maybe, just maybe, I can't afford one of those houses.

Anyway, after a couple of bridal showers, the house is becoming tapped out on space. I need to clear out old stuff and put away the new. I am officially finished with school now, and will have ample time to rearrange. When I walked into my dining room, which is now moonlighting as a storage shed, I discovered this sight...

Now I know what you're thinking. Is that "Diana Blue" by Porter Paints on the walls? Yes. Are those cast off dining room chairs donated by your way more financially secure sister? Yes. Is that a possum in the corner? No. That is my Puss in Boots style wedding present security patrol.

When I got too close, this is what happened. She stretched and yawned to show me not to attempt to touch any Crate and Barrel mixing bowls.

She's officially off duty and we need a bigger house.

The Hangover

The troops rallied this weekend to honor this guy as he embarks on a lifetime of wedded bliss.

All of the faces to follow are groomsmen in our wedding. All, with the exception of my brother, are members of the Henry County High School class of '94. They headed to Louisville, KY this weekend to go to the track, watch the Bats in action, and tear it up at Fourth Street Live. While I was opening gifts and oohing and aahing over flatware, Sweet T was out yukking it up with the following fools.

Exhibit A: my younger brother Rob. 6'4" tall with a propensity for letting everyone know that he's NUMBER ONE!!!! He also enjoys Jager bombs and Rumplemints.

Exhibit B: Craig. Well under 6'4" tall. Craig and Trinity have been friends since high school, and have traveled more together than Sweet T and I probably ever will. Seriously. Cancun. Bahamas. They usually went to Sandals resorts.

Exhibit C. Josh. Also a Parisian, handy with the pool cue, and has a fabulous southern accent. His wife's name is Heather, their last name is Graham. That makes him almost famous.

Exhibit D. Joey. Yes, a grown man who still goes by the name Joey. I love him. That's all I'll say before I get in trouble.

Exhibit E. Rusty. Rusty is in the business world, and he's what some might call "sort of a big deal." He likes stylish things and is the polar opposite of Trinity. He's also hilarious.

Finally, the soon to be non-bachelor. Here he is in his new shirt, purchased without supervision. He found it at Stein-Mart, and repeatedly reminded me, "Betsy, its real silk!" Oh, how proud I am of you, Charlie Sheen from Two and a Half Men.

Trinity arrived home carrying this. This was his travel bag. I wish that this was a joke. My big Bachelorette soiree is in a few short weeks. I totally plan to outdo him!

Bridal Shower Sassiness

Today I had my a bridal shower, hosted by my dear friends Kathy and Kirby. It was a brunch shower, so we had to get up and moving relatively early. I like Saturday mornings with yoga or pilates and Starbucks. This morning I got my chai tea latte and a little pantsless yoga time with my niece Caroline.

Chief Flower Girl Caroline is all dolled up and ready to rock.

I was so happy to par-tay with my mom and sister that I closed my eyes in excitement!!!

Here I am with my mother and the mother-daughter hostess duo of Kathy and Kirby. As you can see Team Giantess is on the right, Team Lilliputian on the left.

I had a great helper with my gifts. I didn't have to fetch gifts for myself, and I didn't even really have to open them myself either! How handy is that?

This one required a bit of muscle and teamwork to lift. Wine glasses are heavy, you know.

Kirby made a lovely bouquet for my rehearsal out of the bows. Her mom made the centerpieces. They are a small and crafty pair.

Mom and Kathy, two members of the Menopause Posse. They are a wild and raucous bunch of ladies. Thanks for the shower, Kathy and Kirby. I got lots of great loot!

Katie, Caroline, Kirby, and Peri

Two reformed hellions and two future hellions.

The Journey of the Dress

I am so excited that my wedding gown arrived today! I love it even more than I did when I first ordered it. The journey began at The Bride Room in Nashville, TN in March. I had been hunting for gowns I liked on the interweb, and I decided that I really liked these dresses by a designer called "Amsale." I even found some particular styles that I liked. I decided to call the bridal store in Nashville. The conversation went something like this..

Sweet Southern Bridal Lady: Hello, The Bride Room, this is Stephanie, may I help you?

Po' Dunk hick Betsy: Yes, I'm interested in scheduling an appointment. I really this those Amsale (pronounced rhyming with ham-tale) gowns.

Sweet Southern Bridal Lady: Yes, we would love to see you. Amsale (pronounced Ahm-saw-luh) gowns are so beautiful. I'm sure you'll find one you love.

Po'Dunk hick Betsy: Yep, git me one of them there gowns right quick.

Okay, I totally didn't say that last part, but I felt like Elly May Clampett anyway. If the lovely lady had not been so gracious, I might have died of embarrassment. A couple of weeks later we were there and had found the gown that I loved. I then received a phone call last week that the dress was in at the bridal salon, and they were ready to ship it. The delivery required a signature, so I had it sent to my dear pal, Jamie, who would be home with her two children and would be able to sign for it.

I anxiously tracked my gown's travels via UPS. Today I called Tim, her husband, more times than I would care to mention to check on the status of my dress. He was a real sport, and called me right when it landed on his doorstep! Trinity and I then raced up to Tim and Jamie's house, where Jamie helped me try it on. A few minor alterations and a bustle are all that I need.

Tim agreed to pose with the ginormous box that held my dress. He critiques my blog regularly, so he will surely enjoy this:)

Call the Fire Department, Bob is Grilling...

We should have known not to fire up that grill on that fateful Mother's Day of 2010. There was a sign, straight from the Lord himself, but we ignored it. Such begins the tale of my father trying to burn down his house.

My mother called me the Wednesday before Mother's Day weekend and announced that the first grilling of the season would commence in honor of her. Trinity was thrilled as he prefers cheeseburgers to her previous suggestion of chicken salad. She said that they would drag it out from the shed and clean it out on Friday. I must explain a little bit about our shed, as it has a bit of a checkered past. To keep things short I will just say NO ONE likes the shed. Its kind of like James Earl Jones' fenced in backyard in The Sandlot. Something is always trying to kill someone out in that damn shed. Creatures live there. When Rob was in middle school a 6 foot long black rat snake slivered out of THE GARAGE and headed back to its home in the shed. After loosening his bowels on the driveway he claimed he would never go near that shed. Mom and Dad are brave though.

So Friday rolls around, Jane and Bob roll the grill out of the shed, drag it through the yard and set it up on the back patio. All is going well until Dad flips open the lid and comes face to face with an enormous female POSSUM, WHO HAS HATCHED A BUNCH OF BABIES AND IS LIVING IN THE GRILL. Now, I know that baby possums don't come from eggs, rather we all know that they are spawn from the devil himself. There was lots of hissing, as my parents retreated into the safety of the house. There were calls made to area organizations, but no one was reached to rescue my parents from the litter of possums. They slept in terror that night.

The next morning the family had vacated the premises, clearly unhappy with their new landlords. All was well, and Dad thoroughly cleaned the grill, as the tenants had only occupied the lower storage shelf. Rob, Trinity and I arrived Sunday afternoon, excited at the prospect of cheeseburgers.

So the possums weren't sign enough of troubles to come. My dear father lights the grill, only to see flames shoot up and begin to engulf it. Trinity barrel rolls(not really but that would have been way cool) into the ivy bed which is situated slightly lower than the patio. He grabs the hose and starts to fight those flames Kurt Russell "Backdraft" style. This apparently goes on for about a minute and the flames continue to shoot higher and higher, beneath a lovely old tree. That's when Dad screams, "Call 911" Now, peeps, here's where all hell breaks loose. Mother calls the fire department, Trinity continues to battle the blaze, Dad and Rob stand there in shock and I rescue the fool dog, who is standing there dangerously close to the point of origin( I learned that from CSI).

Now the Honey Creek Fire Dept. is located about 10 feet from mom and dad's house. We hear the sirens, rescue is near! Then, then, then, the fire goes out! Damn! Can't it burn dangerously, but not too dangerously, so we don't look like a bunch of idiots? The next scene included 3 Fire Engines, and the entire neighborhood gawking in our driveway. The Fire Chief assured us "that we had done the right thing, "after school special style, and then concluded that the connection from the gas tank was not completely closed.

Awesome!

Here Mother is going to talk to the neighbors.

Fire Safety lecture time.

Despite years of personal development, she still turned into her mother.

This sassy slogan is on a magnet that hangs on my fridge. Oh, how true it is. I contest that my sister has actually turned MORE into my mother, but I run a close second. This is what happened when I returned home to visit her last weekend on Mother's Day...

What's this, you ask? Oh, its just two women who share a lot of genetic characteristics, separated in age by almost exactly 31 years wearing matching mint green Lacoste sweaters. Does anything spell out love more than a pair of alligator emblems? I assure you that this was wholly unplanned and provided a lot of fodder for Rob and Trinity's sarcastic quips.