6.29.2006

Two unrelated facts:

We picked out a very neutral stain for our deck that was starting to warp & splinter and hired a neighborly guy to paint it for us. I came home from work, walked upstairs: its Dorito-colored.

Getting dressed for work each morning, Scott's new habit is to exclaim "Tickets!" when looking my way.

6.23.2006

Me: Dag, they have spoonbread!
Scott: Nah, its corn souflee.
David: Both wrong. Its corn pone.
S: How do you know that?
D: Cuz it is.
S: What's pone?
D: It's when you take corn and make it, well, pone. [shrugs]
S: [pause]...I don't get it.
M: C'mon, Scott, its one of the earth's elements. There's fire, water and pone.

6.18.2006

My precious husband manages the mail. With rigor. Mail comes in, is opened (and, until yesterday I didn't know) and is placed "on view" (on a small portion of the desk in the office) for five days. Then all is recycled. What this means is, I never know what event I'm going to, what time to be there or how to dress. I have to rely on Scott to tell me these things, like, what sort of venue are we going to, which usually results in a helpful retort such as "Don't worry about it. You'll look great." Boat? Backyard? Dunno.

I arrived at my high school reunion 2 hours late. His reunion I was instructed was "casual"-- I arrived in cook-out garb to eat a beautiful dinner buffet under an enormous tent, while listening to a big band and getting photographed. Nice. I felt like a hayseed.

Last night was a wedding. I wasn't to be foiled. I knew the bride and family well enough to know that hayseed attire was out-- so I threw on my favorite dress and off we went to Alexandria.

We followed some friends after the ceremony through the labrynth of downtown DC streets, made a sharp turn and at once were being hailed into an entranceway by an army of valets. My car door was opened, I stepped out and looked up. I was dizzy.

We were directed through the hall where we stood, overlooking the mall, having drinks and mingling within the columns. A 10 piece swing band cranked out the songs and various bars were in full swing also. Mojitos abounded.

The bride is from a large, well-known family in the area, who is friends with other large, well-known families in the area. They started filling the terrace; generations and generations of paisley, hats, and bow ties. This was more than just a beautiful wedding, this was an enormous reunion of sorts. It was easy to spot the folks from the groom's side. They were scant in contrast.

The groom is relatively new to the mix-- he's a slightly older gentleman with a miliary background. Standing between two southern accented, bowtied men, one with spots on his shirt, I experienced this exchange:
Geezer 1: Weyell, its a great day for both the briiide and the groom.
Geezer 2: Whut? Great day for hi-yim, Ay'd say. I mean, he's nevah been married? He's gittin himself a little slice a' heavin before he kicks the buckit is what's happenin.
[both Geezer's laugh heartily]

What's brilliant is that this kind, unassuming groom's name is Kevin. Scott wasted no time in addressing him a little too familiarly as K-dawg. Kevin laughed a little uncomfortably, and Scott kindly clarified-- Did you see Meet the Parents? At that moment a young kid barrelled right at him and he was wisked away.

I couldnt stop laughing at Scott's conduct. We started imagining if he went up and grabbed the mic and did a toast to K-dawg. A real long-winded roast with made-up stories, and we'd all laugh hysterically at each one of them, slapping our knees and holding our stomachs. And then pulling it all together at the end, all sincere.."Now seriously folks... you know, I just want to say that K-dawg, Kevin, is a great guy..."

Whitney and I offered him $200 to do it, which he declined. I mean, at a beautiful wedding, who is going to stop you? Priceless.