The Dog's Hair Blog
This past weekend, Kevin & Donna got married. It was a very pretty outdoor ceremony held in her parent's backyard, complete with fountains of running water, a festive flower garden and shady pavillion for them to stand under. Very beautiful, very touching, and pleasantly very short.
And then there was Donna's uncle, who happily strolled through the crowds, offering us all a shot of homemade brandy. Damned good, homemade brandy. Damned good, homemade brandy that could blow an engine manifold out of a car if it was used as fuel substitute.
This was only a foretoken of things to come. Between the epic pieces of roast pork and delicious roast lamb, the open bar (where Mel rejoiced with many bottles of Hard Cranberry and beer that she didn't have to drive later that night)and the dancing, I'm sure there was a wedding reception somewhere in there.
There are a few things I recall: Donna toting around the Eeyore plushie she got amongst her wedding presents; Kevin casually threatening bodily harm to any toasters who might air out all his embarrassing stories for all to hear; the wedding cake being more or less gone by the time I went up for a slice, so I took all the icing that had fallen off during the cuttings--and that amounted to a small mountain of pure sugar on my plate; seeing a group of Slavic people dancing to "Yatta!"; and seeing Roupen adding a second garter to what looks to be the start of a collection.
Sunday was spent recovering from Friday and Saturday. I recall spending most of it shuffling around in half-vegetable mode, barely even able to look at a Jos Louie without feeling my stomach twitch. (However, brunch at The Old English Parlour definitely garners a return visit to that restaurant.)
It certainly didn't help that Mel & I had to cut short the Sunday afternoon party dedicated to present opening (aka, "the booty count") so I could attend a skip-out-on-this-and-we-will-kill-you staff meeting for work. The last thing I wanted or needed was 2 hours of gut-churning boredom.
So, after a near twelve hours of sleep and a shower, I'm feeling relatively normal and have spent the entire morning catching up on an Inbox threatening to overflow with unanswered mail. But, it was all worth it.
Now, if only I could call in delerious for work today...
Today's Grammatical Question: if 'blowjob' is one word then does it classify as a compound word? (Ah, the things we get asked by friends who are studying to become teachers...)
posted by Phillip at 7:56 AM
