Tasters, This video is well worth your time. Treat yourself. It's a slice of pie for the heart.
I have good cause lately to consider such things: women that we love and slices of pie for the heart. I was letting my job's changes, missing my niece's baptism and birthday because I had not one weekend to spare, all get in the way of planning my wedding. I was letting the delayed wedding plans get in the way of how lucky I am, how rare is this opportunity to gather so much of what I love into one place and revel in just how good that feels. Weddings give us the excuse to celebrate the crazy quilt that is our own found prints, patterns, rich fabrics and solid cottons of our posse. It gives us a chance too, to elevate color choices, the extravagance of cake, the music that moves us, to necessity. It is the one day where the frivolous dresses up the imperative and in its lace and ruffles, its ribbon and tulle, that which is otherwise known as "what we love and what holds us back in its love" marches out in all of its finery.
But I had gotten "stressed-out" that overused cliche meaning my own poor prioritizing and time management and ability to access what rich resources lay before me. And my groom, Tasters, he is a million kinds of wonder to me, but sometimes the wonder manifests in: I wonder what goes on in his beautiful, aggravating head?" Wedding plans were such a moment. I needed my she-posse, my sisters and sisters-by-choice, one of which happens to be Ms. Mamacakes, another Brightcakes and Ms. Marycakes, and absolutely our own dear Sweetcakes. I sent a group email explaining that I was lost and felt nearly hopeless in terms of moving ahead. Within hours, appointments to handymen were made and by yesterday afternoon, thanks to Lady Brightcakes, I have work scheduled on this needy home, I had invitations selected, the messiness of the menu brought down to one strategic buffet, a calm-down phonecall and a reminder that I have the best pie-case of Ladycakes in the whole history of crazy brides.
Marycakes, far off in Indiana has been sending in links and suggestions. Brightcakes: the handyman and a gorgeous walk in our spring-garlanded woods, and Sweetcakes: nearly twenty-years of friendship and each day of it even better than the last.
I forced myself through a pile of grading and today, with four hours worth of sleep, I drove into school behind a big yellow schoolbus #23. I dreaded the awkwardness of having a pack of little boys--third grade or so--looking back in the way that adults driving alongside us rarely do. And they did look over and they smiled and waved brightly. I smiled and waved, too. This delighted them, so that several intersections later when their bus turned right and I continued on, they waved wildly and one boy, dark-haired, with the kind of glowing, open-hearted mischeif to him that reminds me of my nephew, blew me kisses goodbye and in light of all the ways that the world reminds us of its brutality, a small boy's kiss traveled the distance along Riverside Drive and there was nothing to do, but take my right hand from the steering wheel, kiss the first two fingers and blow a kiss right back to him. Some days are briliant-Spring-yellow: firebright forsythia, daffodils and shower of white blossom dripping over the driveway. A busload of happiness. Today, thank you my good Ladycakes one and all, made it possible to savor such a day.