Well, everyone survived and the wedding went as well as it could have. It was odd in many, many ways, but the decorations were GORGEOUS. My stepbrother showed up high, and I think that might've actually been a good thing. We went back on Sunday and spent the day taking down, packing, and loading the lights, lanterns, paintings, rugs, lamps, furniture, decorations, statues, food, dishes, linens, flowers, vases, etc. We filled a huge moving truck full, in addition to my dad and Gwen's van.
Oh, and I managed not to interact with Fletch at all. I won't even bother explaining the latest drama surrounding her (it doesn't involve me at all this time) or the horribly rude things she said to Gwen about how my sister-in-law looked in her dress.
What really gets me is that there she is, eighty-six years old and healthy, choosing to spend her time and energy on negativity and meanness, while my wonderful nana (they both happen to live in Wimberley and were both widowed last year) is fighting for her life and going through chemo and radiation every day (and maintaining a great attitude despite feeling like she's had the crap kicked out of her). And yes, I do know I shouldn't waste my time thinking about it this way.
But anyway . . . I'm trying to catch up on some things around here (though we're really in pretty good shape), and have started working on the invitations to E's first birthday party. I'm being oh-so-crafty with them. I even had to borrow Catherine & Shannon's hot glue gun. Watch out!
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