Last week, my husband's sister was married up in Fargo, where we're from. I held Christine when she was a brand new baby (she was born when Steve and his older brother were still in high school.) Now she's almost 24 and a married lady. Everyone looked great, and we had such a nice time. Christine and Ryan did a great job keeping the ceremony and party tasteful and simple. What a great weekend.
Now, my boys were feeling pretty dapper in their dress clothes (Graham grew five inches this school year, and needed new ones). He was kind of crouching down while everyone was talking, and I told him he looked pretty cool. Pretty soon, Harrison was in the spirit and popped a GQ pose. Those guys are handsome! Graham refused to ask anyone to dance, because he wanted to be true to his girlfriend of two years here in Hattiesburg (as far as I know, THEY'VE never danced, but I suppose he wants to save the first one for her!)
Of course after all of that dancing and walking around in less-than-comfortable shoes, we were all a little sore. And when we were packing up the car to head back to the airport in Fargo, at four o'clock in the morning, I fell down a couple of stairs in the garage carrying my luggage. I made a big, "Oomph" sound, and Steve said he thought at first that I was just chucking luggage into the garage. Turns out, I was chucking myself, and on my knees onto cement, no less. All I could do was laugh.
In stitching news, I am now going to have several months at home, uninterrupted by the traveling I've been doing for the past few months. This means, more samplers, more original pieces, and bestly -- more stitching time for moi!