The post-wedding reception!

On October 18, Ellie and Paul, Genevieve and Neil, and possibly Aaron Wilbers and his beloved, were wed (not all to each other...separately to each other. Like, Ellie with Paul, Neil with Genevieve, and so on).

Rather than fight for reception guests, we decided to hold a Week-After wedding bash, on October 25...and while one profoundly rude guest told us we 'really shouldn't be spending this much' on a wedding celebration and dragging it out, given the economy (I wanted to say "Erm, do you KNOW how much I spent on this wedding? I DARE YOU to throw your kid a wedding on this shoestring of a budget, you grumpy, stingy old man"), I enjoyed spreading out the functions. I mean, a wedding in and of itself is an extremely highly-planned event (EVEN WHEN YOU THINK IT'S GOING TO BE SIMPLE)...why throw a crazy party *right* after it, then leave on an exotic crazy trip *right* after that? By the end of all that, I would have been crazy. I cried like ten times for absolutely no reason on the big day. Lord knows what a mess I would have been in if I had a surprisingly inappropriate DJ or Gilbert got drunk at the open bar and started hitting baseballs at my head or our flight was delayed and we had to hang out in an airport for hours on my wedding night.

Anyway. I had no worries, none at all, because the Millers did e-ver-y-thing. Everything. When I asked Sarah what time we should show up before the party, to help with last-minute stuff, she thought for a second and said "Well, can you come at 6:45? Just to make sure you're here to welcome your guests." Yes. Yes, we can come fifteen minutes early.

For fun, Lily, Jordan, Gilbert and I made mini-caramel apples on Friday for the party, puttering around the kitchen, developing a system (how I love developing systems!) on how best to proceed.

The steps:

1. Wash apples (Gilbert washed them all, Empire, Jonagold, and Granny Smith)
2. Regular lollipop sticks (from Michael's) had to have their ends snipped off at an angle to make sticking them into the apples easier (Lily did most of these, but I believe Jordan and Gilbert did a little as well)
3. Melon-ball one apple at a time (usually me. The Jonagold were easiest, as they were the softest kind of apple, but the Empire were shiny-red and looked the best. The Granny Smith were hardest, but that also meant they kept the longest later, and the bright green looked really good at the end. Each apple gave from 5-9 balls.)
4. Immediately, lemon juice was squirted on the balls to prevent browning (this, and the following 3 steps, were primarily Gilbert's job)
5. Stick lollipop stick into the skin-side of the apple
6. Dry apple off as much as possible with paper towel so caramel will stick better
7. Dredge apple ball in regular sugar to add to dryness (tried powdered sugar...didn't work as well)
8. Carry bowl of speared apple balls to Dipping Stations, where Lily and Jordan would dip the balls in either caramel or semi-sweet chocolate, with optional white nonpareils or pecans, then plop them into gold-colored paper candy cups (also from Michael's). Put in fridge.
9. Someone yells "There's no more room in the fridge! There is absolutely no more room in the fridge." Lily: "There is always room in the fridge." And she makes room. Don't know how. But she does.

They came out really well, and super cute. We set them up with the Betsy-Amy cookies at Sarah's (well...we brought them over, and they set them up), and they were a big hit. I thought about taking photos during the creating process, but then I was all "How do people take photos during cooking without getting the camera all sticky or flour-y, or having to take a break and wash their hands every time they wanted to take a photo? And sometimes if the camera is small enough, might there be a danger of it dropping into the batter such as when making something like a bundt cake which has a fairly deep pan and the camera might be slipped in by a precocious toddler without you even knowing it until someone bites into their piece and thinks it's a cake charm, like in those Mardi Gras cakes where if you get a baby in your piece it means you'll have a baby, or a horseshoe means you'll have good luck, or a Four of Cups card means you'll die within the week? And what would a camera even mean? Or something?"

Back to the subject at hand. I can't promise I won't digress again, though.

Saturday was a mildly busy day, but not crazy. I ran some gourds & pumpkins over to Sarah's, and we had a *wonderful* time unwrapping all those glorious cookies, courtesy of Miss Betsy Arthur and her cookie-decorating friend Amy (SO beautiful, I can't even tell you). I drove back to Dad's so Lily could do my hair and nails next (navy blue nails, since my dress was a little edgy and dammit, so am I). Neil met me at Dad's an hour before we were to leave, so Emily could take photos of our rings-slash-Doc Martens, my idea for the traditional wedding-rings photo, since I totally hate my stubby fingers and we joked about having Sarah M. stand in for mine even though the ring would look like a hula hoop on a tetherball pole. It was so fun to find aesthetically pleasing configurations for trying to fit both rings and shoes in the photo, and at one point we ended up on our backs on the lawn, legs thrown in the air, arms held up, *simply* to get the pretty yellow-fall-colored tree in the background of the shot. On the plus side, Ems said my cleavage looked fabulous.

I went inside to get dressed, and since we were running a bit late, I rushed out in my dress and fantastic shoes, not really pausing to let everyone enjoy my fabulousness. But Neil wouldn't let me just run off...he looked dazzled, and it made me feel absolutely gorgeous. He does that a lot. He gave me a big, face-holding kiss in front of everyone (have I told you how much I adore the face-holding kiss?), stood back to look at me, and I swear I felt like he was seeing me for the very first time again. Man, I got lucky with him.

In a few minutes, we took off...Neil and I in my car, everyone else piled into the remaining vehicles.

What a gorgeous evening Saturday was!! When Neil and I pulled up to the Millers', we shared a moment, looking at the almost-set sun over the beautiful Rocheport hills, marveling at the day. Dad and company were right behind us, and we trooped in, me feeling fabulous in my wild Igigi Sunset Over Maui maxidress with orange shrug (which apparently is no longer sold, so I can't show you a photo...on the other hand, I'm glad I bought it before it became unavailable) and shiny purple ballet flats with steel-gray bubbles on the toes. (Okay, they're hard to explain without making them sound idiotic. But they are so, so cute, and shopping for them with Lily and Jordan was an awfully fun time.)

Kaye's house was perfectly beautiful, with fires in the fireplaces and outdoors (in a safe way, not in a "Oh crap, FIRE!" way), with stunning silvery pumpkin centerpieces, gourds and pumpkins everywhere, low, party-friendly lighting (without veering into Seven-Minutes-In-Heaven territory), delicious finger foods laid out on the dining table (skewers of pork and apricots with an orange glaze, colorful vegetables and dill dip, pickled shrimp, a variety of cheeses [can we say "artesan cheeses," like in restaurants? Would that be okay? I don't know what it means, but it sure sounds cultured], hot apple cider on the stove, a variety of bottled beer [including a six-pack of Blue Moon in the fridge labeled "FOR THE GROOM"], spinach balls [Stephen, don't be dirty], hot olives [YES!!] and an unspeakably delicious sweet pumpkin dip with fruit and gingersnaps), Tom Andes playing (on the stereo, not in person--that would have been dangerous) and the most beautiful view of the night sky.

Folks began arriving right on time (no early birds, em!), for the most part without any problems (except poor Suzy, who called my cell phone to say "Am I supposed to be seeing pigs? Did I go too far?")...they trickled in regularly all evening, and while I never got a final head count (*why* didn't I think of putting a counter on the door?!! Stupid, stupid me--those stats would have been good to tell the Board we need more money at the next meeting. Oh, wait, I'm thinking of libraries. never mind...), there was always a healthy crowd...I'm thinking maybe 50 folks, milling around the food, paging through and signing our Lily-Gilbert-and-Emily created guest book, getting to know new people, enjoying the view outside, sitting by the fire...the evening truly flew by, and while I am not that comfortable entertaining a bunch of people at once (unless it's as a Peasant in "Pippin" and I have full face makeup on), I loved having the opportunity to grab short but meaningful chats with people I don't really see regularly anymore.

After a couple hours or so, Sarah and Kaye began passing out glasses of champers for the toast. We all gathered in the living room, and Neil and I sat front and center (Lynnie sat on the floor leaning on our knees, the cutie!) while Sarah grabbed her self-proclaimed "30 seconds of fame" and gave a toast that was so perfect and heartfelt. She talked about our friendship, as old as the hills, and referenced the fact that, given our two strong and stubborn personalities, we'd always gotten along famously (snort)...but, of course, it has withstood the test of time. She also said there was something else that she couldn't talk about, that she'd tell me later. (I had a feeling I knew who it was about.) Neil and I lifted our Moscato d'Asti (my faaaaaavorite!) and the whole crowd joined us in the toast.

Next...Steve and Joe took their places up front, with a very dapper Mike Straw at the piano, and sung "When I'm 64" again. No banter this time, but I'm so glad everyone got to hear the song.

Before I knew it, it was 10:00 and I'd never gotten to try my pumpkin dip!! People were taking their leave, so I was finally able to fight my way to the dining table and loaded up with dip, apple slices, and flower-shaped gingersnaps. That stuff was better than I could have ever imagined, and because the crowd was dying down, I was able to fully enjoy it, without feeling guilty that I wasn't making the rounds.

Who was there? Well, I'll tell you! (from memory, here, folks, so...it's gonna be wrong)

Emily (THANK YOU for the bonus photos that day!), and her parents Steve and Jeanne joined later
The Millers, of course: Sarah, Kaye, and Bill
My family: Dad, Steve, Lily (plus Gilbert), and Joe (plus Tina)
Roger
The Parshalls: Lynn, Tim, and Jordan
The Cookes, from Kansas City: Debbie and Tom
The Quirk/Parkes: Catherine, Tom, and James
The Zoellerses: Amy, Jason, and lil Clyde
The Atkinses: Amanda, Braden, and cute Carmen
The Zimmermans: Leesa and Don
Mike Straw
Lillian Hedgepeth, all the way from Doniphan, MO!
Elaine Martin--who told me Andrea is going to be on Made really soon!
Corrie H.
Suzy
The Irwins: darling Sarah and Dylan
The Horners: Kevin, Catherine, and Andrew
The Rodemans: Juliet and Ralph
The Harrisons: Phil and Jan

(That list was really for me...I don't blame you for skimming it.)

Finally, only the Millers, Dawsons and partners, and Dazets were left. Dad and company loaded up their cars with presents and took off, and Neil and I said we'd be joining them soon after to unwrap gifts (I couldn't wait!! And besides, Lily and Gilb had to leave at like nine the next morning, and ain't no way I'm getting out of bed before then if I don't have to). We had a nice little time then with the Millers, beginning to clean up (Sarah boxing me up some extra pumpkin dip, veggies, and hot olives), when Sarah said "Stop! Everyone, let's just sit down and relax for a minute."

We sat around in the living room, tired but happy after such a wonderful evening. Sarah handed Neil and I the mysteriously long package wrapped in silvery music-note paper ("A cello bow?" I guessed), and we unwrapped....The Sign!! The wooden painted Sign, a twin to the one that I have forever admired, that every year sits on the Millers' mantel, reading "I Believe in Santa Claus," reminding me of Joey McIntyre's froggy little voice during his solo number on the "Merry Merry Christmas" tape (NOT available on CD, folks). I finally have The Sign!! What a perfect wedding gift. :) Along with the reception. That was pretty freaking great, too.

Sarah confided what she couldn't say during the toast, that when Mom was really sick, Sarah told her she'd take care of me. So pretty much, I can't type that without tears welling up (even a week later, Betsy!).

Eventually, we gathered up the guest book, spare cookies, dip, olives, Sign, bridal bag, and weary feet, and started the hilly drive to Dad's house. He, Gilbert, and Lily were waiting for us, surrounded by gaily wrapped presents ALL FOR US!! I felt so spoiled and pampered knowing so many people had made such an effort to acknowledge our marriage...I have ever said it's not about the gifts, and I still think that (it's one of the reasons we didn't register), and everything from a Facebook comment of congratulations to a gorgeous card (Lindsay? SO pretty, SO PRETTY!!) just makes my day, and presents just feel like icing on an already-rich cake. I have to admit, I *could* get used to opening twenty presents all the time...but that's just it...I don't want to get USED to it!

{{parenthetical}}

Paul (my brand-new brother in law) was talking this weekend during his sermon about presents, and how when kids are overloaded with presents, the gifts begin to lose meaning, and the child just starts to not really care. I agreed wholeheartedly, and feel like presents in any occasion should not be expected, really. I love giving presents, and I love getting them, but I don't like they they have become the norm for everything.

{{end parenthetical}}

Anyway...it was a wonderful and surprising experience, and I was blown away, especially when we unwrapped my siblings' gift to reveal a freaking BEAUTIFUL Empire Red Kitchenaid standing mixer. In a million years, I would not have guessed I'd get one of those!!! Wow.

In a post-unwrapping glow, Neil and I bade our farewells and drove back home...so happy with the life we'd begun together. And looking forward to the next day: Indian food with Sarah! Oh Lamb Korma with Cheese Nan, I may only indulge in you once a year, but I think of you for the rest of it.