Just 7 days...
and all the angst and anticipation of my sister’s wedding will be behind us. I think all of the details are covered. There is the matter of Eddie’s [lack of] haircut, but I’m not going to make a big deal out of it. That’s not what this is all about.

The other reader at the wedding has bailed, so I am doing a poem and something from the Bible which I have yet to look at. (No, I mean, really, I’m sure it’s nothing new - I just haven’t examined this in the context of my reading it aloud.) Karen told me that the rehearsal is going to be at her soon to be in-laws’ house because the Historic Courthouse where the wedding will take place is not available on Friday night. So I will have no feel for the acoustics, etc. Oh, well.

I’d better take a look at the poem again. I told Karen I would read anything as long as it wasn’t morally objectionable or patently ridiculous and out of context, such as The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald. Her fiance (I like this guy - he has a good sense of humor) asks, “What’s wrong with The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald?” So, maybe just for fun, I will recite that instead of the poem at the rehearsal. Just to loosen up the crowd.

The groom’s cousin - a Lutheran minister - will be presiding at the wedding. I’ve got to give up the snarky Lutheran comments. (They come so easily, having been a snarky Lutheran....)

And I’d better check out Mass times from home so I don’t forget and wind up calling the church in Amery......too late. Like the young lady who called the rectory at 5:20 last night to ask what time our Saturday evening Mass was. Oops. It was at 5:00. And the only reason I was answering the phone twenty minutes after I should have left was that I was waiting for someone to come and pick up a key. Her husband called at 4:50 to say his wife was in the shower and just remembered that she was supposed to pick up the gym key by 5:00. I wanted to say, “Why don’t you be a mensch and come over and get it for her now.” But I didn’t. So I waited. And fed the violets...and answered the phone.... (I’m still feeling a little guilty because she asked me if I knew of any churches with a 6:00pm Mass. In all honesty. I didn’t. But maybe I should have pulled the Archdiocesan directory and looked a little. But I had my coat on and just wanted to get home. So I told her we had a 6:00 pm Mass on Sunday night. Without adding the maternal directive that that gave her approximately 24 and a half hours to pull herself together. No, I’m employed to help, not chide. As much fun as that would be....)