Dear Sunday Letter friends,
You probably know our daughter got married last weekend. It was a fabulous to-do in Austin. Absolutely dreamy (even though it was hot as Hades). But afterward? I wasn’t prepared for how exhausted I would be. And, really, I didn’t have that many responsibilities. The bride and groom coordinated most everything.
After we returned home to Fayetteville, for two days I staggered around, zombie-like. I even slept until 8:00 on Tuesday, something I haven’t done since I had mono in tenth grade.
I hope you’ll indulge me for a moment as I recap a few of my favorite things about the wedding…
Every Little Detail
I knew the weekend would be perfect from the moment we left Northwest Arkansas for Austin. We actually flew through a rainbow just as we took off from DFW Airport! That was a first for me, and I took it as a good sign of things to come.
Yes, sometimes I believe in signs.
Now one week later, I want to hang on to every little detail. Thank goodness for pictures, right?
I can truly say there is nothing that tugs on the heartstrings like seeing your baby girl walk up the aisle with her Daddy, beneath a canopy of ancient Live Oaks, the fiery setting sun filtered through her veil. Every dream I’ve dared to dream for her came true in that moment.
Without a doubt, I know she married the perfect man for her; the one who believes in her, complements her, balances her, makes her laugh out loud. Yes, he fits right in with our crazy family—a great bonus for all of us!
A detail that felt extra special to me—we displayed family photographs of weddings from prior generations together on a table. Those no longer with us? They were with us that night. Their presence felt palpable to me the entire weekend, not only from the pictures, but also through toasts made and stories told. (I forgot to take a picture of the table, but I’m sure there will be one in the official wedding photographs.)
Here’s one we contributed. My parents and grandparents.
This next photo of James and Nan Creecy dates way-way-way back. James and Nan are Kelsey’s great-great-great-great-great grandparents on my mother’s side. Everything about this picture fascinates me—her fancy ruffled jacket, her “almost” smile, his long thin face which is almost identical to Papa Creecy in the photo above. This bride and groom no doubt had a hard life on the farm, and there’s no way they could possibly fathom the future wedding of their 5xGreat Granddaughter in Austin 150+ years later.
These beautiful earrings checked something old & something borrowed box. Years ago, my mother had these earrings made from my Nana’s diamonds, as well as diamonds from her 25th wedding anniversary gift from Daddy.
A vintage handkerchief of mine provided something blue.
Something new? Wedding gown, shoes, rings, a whole new life together—I imagine this category is always the easiest for every bride.
Another sweet detail—the bride and groom asked two of their grandmothers to witness the signing of the marriage certificate. How fun is that?
Note to Self
Alrighty, moving on to other topics…
This week since the weather has finally cooled, I’ve been working on decorating my porch for fall. (I’ll bring you pics soon.) While working on my fall porch, I had an “aha” moment about our asparagus ferns.
So real was this “aha” moment, I made an all important note to self.
“Self, there’s no reason to ever buy any other type of hanging fern.”
Why would we?
Our asparagus ferns have been living their best lives all summer—so lush and happy and amazing with only occasional watering.
Seriously, how many summers have we babied other fern varieties (I’m talking to you, Bostonians) while working like the dickens to keep them looking fresh and healthy only to have the wind beat the daylights out of them?
Many, many summers.
While I made this note to self, I had a business idea, too. Someone here in Fayetteville should open a greenhouse that leases out space during winter. Wouldn’t that be great!? I would be first in line to rent space to overwinter our potted and hanging plants. Especially these asparagus ferns. We could visit our plants, water them, and talk them through a cold winter without cramming them into the house in front of windows with not-quite-bright-enough sunlight.
Feel free to run with this someone.
Remember my play, Last Call at the Dairy Freeze, the play that will be performed November 8-10 by Five & Dime Drama Collective?
This week I was notified that this same play was accepted for publication by Ponder Review, a MFA program publication of the Mississippi University for Women.
This little play seems to be getting more traction than anything I’ve written as of late. I’m thinking I should write more plays in my spare time.
What I really want to remind you is this—if you are a writer, keep submitting! I get lots of declinations to every acceptance. And each acceptance is a thrill.
Okay, I lied…
One more bit of wedding talk. I adore this picture. Such joy.
Things Momma Says:
(while John tried to speed up her iPad)
Who knows how I ever got anything up in the Cloud.
Thanks for reading this Sunday Letter and for indulging my wedding weekend memories. I’m still floating a bit above the earth, so appreciative for such a happy time with family.
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.