But only one explosion. Okay, maybe two explosions.
One transformer explosion, and one Lynne Knowlton explosion.
We can talk about the transformer, but we can’t talk about my temper tantrum. If you ask, I will punch you. The embarrassment of my 48 year old temper tantrum needs to be filed in the let’s not talk about that vault. Like ever.
A wedding in a barn is never dull.
Apparently my temper tantrums aren’t either. Ooops. My bad. Alarm bells. Vault was opened.
Shut it. Slam it shut. Slam it tight. Slam it vault tight.
Our house was full of hustle and bustle. I love that feeling. The house is happiest when it’s full.
There was a buzz in the air.
An electrical buzz.
Then a zap. Poof.
The electrical transformer went up in smoke. Snap. Crackle. Wtf. Pop.
Hours before the wedding… we had no electricity and no running water.
* insert frenzy *
I suddenly felt wound up tighter than bark on a tree.
2 hours, one hydro truck, 2
hydro workers miracle workers , 2 big fat smooches on the hydro workers cheeks and 2 stiff drinks later…. it was solved. I also decided that everyone should have a brother that carries a flask of 18 year old scotch in his wedding tux. I love my bro. The scotch was so nice, my brother said it has a built in GPS system. You can feel it traveling through your body. Ahhhhh. Thank you Scotch.
I think I love you.
No water meant no showers. No showers meant dirty bodies. Dirty bodies meant panic. We all turned and ran for the pond. In hindsight, I’m not sure if that was a smart move or a stupid move.
There was a frenzy of adults, kids, aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters jumping in the pond.
Pond swimming = best.entertainment.ever.
If you are a polar bear.
For a moment we thought it would be a good idea to dunk in the pond. It was a fleeting moment. We soon realized that we were punishing ourselves with a dunk in an icy cold torture chamber.
Bathing in a pond is like putting powder over dirt.
Have you ever tried to shave your armpits in a pond? It doesn’t work. Lesson learned.
Suddenly, being bombalicious didn’t matter. I warned everyone about my hairy arm pits. After all, some things cannot be unseen. Sorry Nana. I’m sure you really didn’t need to know that about me. This blog post should have come with a warning label.
How does one prepare for a wedding in a barn?
Drink scotch out of a flask. Oops. Outside voice.
Chairs. Chair prep. Chair movement. Pretty much just move chairs all over the place until it all just fits wherever.
We kicked the kitty cats outta the barn and filled the place with chairs. There was almost a cat revolt over that one.
They think they own the joint.
The ceremony was beautiful. I sipped beer. Don’t mention that. It was on the down low. Hey , I needed it. I was still shivering from the torture chamber.
I also bet money that someone would get looped and sleep under the barn chairs.
I didn’t stay awake long enough to find out.
Note to self : Do not eat 6 wedding cupcakes. They induce a sugar high and then a cupcake coma.
I have no idea who would be stupid enough to do that. I totally did that.
We even set up the treehouse for some chillaxin… Not that I would know. I didn’t actually try it. I have hogged the treehouse for the other 364 days of the year. I thought I would share it for a day. Nice of me, don’tcha think?
Yup. I know.
*pats self on back*
Best news about the wedding day :
Other than the obvious benefits of scotch, wedding bliss, and cupcakes….
- The dog didn’t goose Grandma like he did last year.
- He also didn’t chase the cats through the barn. Clearly, miracles do happen on wedding days.
- The environmentally friendly algae busting blue dye in the pond did not make us all look like blue smurfs.
- The cats didn’t eat the cupcakes ( when anyone was looking )
- The barn cats only catapulted off the pool umbrella once.
- The treehouse mouse didn’t make an appearance. Hey, we live in the country. They just invite themselves in. Jerks.
- The squirrels didn’t run across the yard while flipping us the bird. And you think I joke. Country entertainment. They could have their own television show.
- Our dog didn’t eat an entire pie in one gulp. A second miracle in one day.
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It makes me happy.
It will make you happy.
Just do it.
I kiss people when it happens. Then I sip scotch. One should celebrate these moments of awesomeness. You will have some fun with me, I promise. If not, you can dump me like a hot potato. You can unsubscribe in seconds. I’ll cry and then make it all better with more scotch. No worries.
Remember. I respect your box.
Now… tell me your secrets about how to shave your armpits in a pond. Or how to avoid temper tantrums when you are 48 years old. Or how to defy the odds and outsmart a squirrel. Tell me anything. Bring scotch.
Tell me, tell me now….