A great reason to come home

On 7/11, Hans and I attended my son's wedding.

It started on a Thursday when the parents of the groom met the parents of the bride for the very first time, and I realize in this day and age of helicopter parents this is a bit unusual. But, we live many states away, my son is 32 years old, and we'd already met his future bride (a fabulous girl) and loved her, but I do realize her parents might have been wondering about us.

I have to admit we had to do a bit of scrambling to prepare for the big event. After putting the boat on the hard, we drove a rental car to Pennsylvania where we then found a place to stay for the summer, ditched the rental and bought a car (that we'll sell after we go back to Florida this fall), and I fell into a job. We then had two weeks to get ready. I'd already buzzed Hans' head with clippers I purchased at Walmart (no more Christopher Lloyd look for him), and I, who had been cutting my own hair with rusty scissors for three months, was now sporting a style I can only refer to as a Bahamian mullet with gray roots. However, I was very careful and didn't cut it so short that it couldn't be fixed before the big day.

So, in addition to a good cut and color, I needed some clothes that weren't sweat stained and full of holes. After visiting a local upscale department store, along with the Salvation Army and having no luck (I've found some of my greatest buys at 'Sally's'), I resigned myself to the fact that I'd have to drive over an hour away to a mall, and I hate malls. As it happened, I found myself in the vicinity of a consignment store that I'd shopped at many times in the past and not only did I find a dress for the rehearsal dinner, I found one for the wedding. Add a pair of Payless shoes ordered blindly online, I was good to go.

I love this dress!

Hans and the groom

Friday, the rehearsal dinner was very wisely held at the hotel so no driving was involved, and I was looking forward to a hot bath as I had to be up bright and early in the morning for make-up and hair with the girls. However, Hans' brother and his partner arrived very late from Toronto and of course we invited them to our suite for a get together and didn't end up getting to bed until around 1AM. We had a great time but needless to say, late night hours don't sit quite as well on my mid-fifty self the way they did years ago and I'm afraid I created quite a challenge to the make-over team the next morning. And after years of living on the boat I'm not used to wearing a lot of makeup and when I looked in the mirror I couldn't help but think of Baby Jane, so when I got back to my room I rubbed a good bit of it off.

 

Hans and his baby brother

Selfie Stick fun during the hair and makeup session. A super nice group of girls

The ceremony was performed by the same priest who married the bride's parents thirty-two years ago (actually, their wedding was his first). He's well into his 80's now and we all held our breath when his feet got tangled in the aisle runner and it looked like he was gonna take a header right into the bride and groom but, thankfully, he stayed on his feet. This very same priest (who was so sweet and had a wonderful sense of humor) also performed the bride's brother's wedding last year and I was told he inadvertently had them repeat their vows twice. Now that's a marriage that should surely stick.

The reception venue was incredible (and as a veteran waitress I should know). The weather cooperated beyond belief which meant guests could mingle and enjoy drinks and appetizers both inside and outside before the actual reception began. Thanks to the DJ (and believe me a DJ can make or break a reception), the dance floor was never empty and if the guests weren't dancing, they were in the photo booth. Now, the last time I saw a photo booth was way back when I was a teenager and 50 cents would buy you 4 black and white pictures (of such poor quality they would fade within weeks of their development) of you and your weird friends. Well, times have changed and in this new digital age we were offered all kinds of props and masks like Super Heroes etc... so Hans and I opted for the police line up theme. All I can say is, I really hope to never be arrested as I'd hate for that picture to be blasted over the Internet, it was that bad.

As a waitress, I know hours went into setting this up. Inside those envelopes were scratch off lottery tickets. We didn't win anything but someone at the next table won $50.00

And I guess no wedding is complete without the horribly uncomfortable guest known as the Drunk Uncle. However, in our case it was the Drunk Usher.

Drunk Usher gave the toast at the rehearsal dinner. Actually, it was an oddly satyrical, yet nice toast, in that he pointed out the typical teenage and college obstacles our son faced and over came through the years, culminating in a successful career and marriage to such a wonderful girl. And like a ticking time bomb Drunk Usher then proceeded to socialize with many friends and family members from both sides. While some of his questions and comments could have been taken the wrong way by a few (he was later escorted to his room after falling asleep face down at the hotel bar) they really weren't, and luckily no explosions occurred. I didn't realize the extent of all this until early the next morning when the bridal party and I, while waiting in the lobby before departing for our makeup, were laughing ourselves silly over Drunk Usher's antics.

My son called me in a panic and my soon-to-be-daughter-in-law was mortified.

The bridesmaids and I assured one and all that Drunk Usher said absolutely nothing to offend any of us. However, don't think my son wasn't sweating bullets when it came time for the wedding toast, but by that time Drunk Usher was on his best behavior, and most likely fearing for his life, didn't speak. The rest of the evening flew by and I felt sorry for my son who seemed to constantly be on the run chasing down people at the behest of their three photographers. He later compared it to herding cats and also said he intended to sleep for the solid week of his honeymoon.

Another wise move on the bridal couples' part was to provide a shuttle service from the reception to the hotel, so when the evening ended somewhere around 2 AM, everyone was safely delivered back to their room.

Like I said before; for me, this was the wedding of the century. And while I've never desired to step back in time for even a second, I would re-live that weekend over in a heartbeat. It was just that great.

However, one thing I would change; I would not attempt to read a brand new library book in the bathtub after such an exhausting day. I may not have drowned but that stupid book ended up setting me back $28.95.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Adjusting to Life on the Hard

I'm woefully behind on my posts. I've yet to write about our return crossing from the Bahamas, our bizarre trip up the ICW where we put the Knotty Cat on the hard, and our road trip home. Since we've arrived here I've been busy beyond belief, but if only for my own reference I will surely get those posts written. Someday.

So, after living aboard our Knotty Cat for nearly four years at a marina in Florida (with a few small sailing excursions tossed in), and then actively cruising for 5 months, we've become northern landlubbers.

It's a temporary thing as we hope to get our girl back in the water this November and spend the winter, sans snow, in Florida, but in the meantime my son is getting married this weekend and we've neglected family for far too long. I love our boat and it is our real home, but I'm also excited to be back north where we have more than a couple of days to catch up with friends and family.

I discovered that after using a VHF radio for so long, it took a few days to get used to talking on a telephone. I found myself wanting to say, "Copy that," instead of, "Uh-huh," and, "Stand by," instead of, "Wait a second." It was also strange to not ask, upon awakening, "What's the weather like?" Many times during our drive north in our rental vehicle we commented on what we thought might be storm clouds and Hans would check the local weather info now that we had cell phone coverage.

We've both found ourselves still utilizing 'boat style' water consumption. Tooth brushing, dish washing, showering etc... water is turned on long enough to get whatever it is we're washing wet, turned off during the lathering process, then back on again for the final rinse. I'm able to take a full shower complete with washing my hair with a single gallon of water. And when we crossed back to the states and had no idea how much water was remaining in our tanks I took a shower with two cups of water. I certainly don't want to do this all the time but it does show how much water we can conserve if we really try.

One of the strangest adjustments we've dealt with has concerned Wilbur. Gone are the days where we sit below in the salon reading or watching TV with the companionway door open and Wilbur zips out into the cockpit, relieves himself on his potty patch, and then hops down below and puts himself to bed. We now have to leash him several times a day in order to take him out, and also just before bedtime (pajamas be damned). And if it's been raining... well, we have a little hot house flower on our hands and he doesn't like to get wet. We also make a point of wiping his paws every time he comes back in the house whether they need it or not. One downside though that I need to mention is the lack of doggy day care and boarding facilities here. We've traveled up and down the east coast with Wilbur and have stayed in many marinas and hotels along with taking him to parks and day care centers. He's always been welcome and he's never caused a problem. So you can imagine how stunned I was when Wilbur was turned down at a nearby day care center. They didn't like the expression on his face. I lucked out though when I found a kennel that doesn't mind pit bulls and I now have a place for him to stay during the wedding since for some reason he wasn't invited.

Yeah, that's a scary face.

Last night I took Wilbur out into the damp late evening and marveled at the sight of lightning bugs (or fire flies), and listened to the loud chirping of the tree peepers. How many times as a kid did I collect lightning bugs in a jar (only to find them all dead the next day)? And how could I have forgotten falling asleep to the sound of those little tree frogs? It's been a long time. When I told Hans about the hummingbird that flitted around Wilbur and me tonight, he was jealous. Hans has never seen a hummingbird 'in the wild' as he puts it. I hope that changes this summer.

 

We've landed in a small town with one stop light, houses with porch swings, sidewalks, and complete within walking distance; locally owned hardware and grocery stores, a library converted from a church, a dairy isle (our first local purchase took place here), a post office, a (really good) pizza place , a very clean laundromat, a family restaurant, a couple of bars, an excellent Chinese take out (set incongruously in a beautiful Victorian home), a thrift store, and be still our hearts; a liquor store and beer distributor. And there's even a lake close by where Hans has crewed a couple of times in some sailing races. I swear I'm gonna run into Beaver Cleaver and Eddie Haskell any time now.

Sailing dinghies

I consider ourselves fortunate that we're able to do this. It's nice to get off the boat for a while, explore a new town, and enjoy a summer away from the heat of Florida. I know when fall arrives and it starts to get cold here we'll be more than happy to move back aboard, but for now this is our life.

 

I guess Hans and I are officially snow birds.

A very common sight

 

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One Last Nail in the Dead Files Coffin.

I was surprised to get a message on my last post about The Dead Files episode of The Riverside Inn.
'R' gave me some examples of why he was unhappy with the show but since he included the names of people I know, I've decided not to publish it but I will address his concerns here.

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R was concerned that the Dark Files portrayal of the inn was harmful and pointed out its many inaccuracies. I  figured anyone watching the show who was unfamiliar with the inn would realize this was like all other reality shows and nothing more than a way to gain publicity.  I laughed through most of it and I seriously doubt anyone will stay away from the inn as a result of this episode. Actually, people used to ask me all the time why we didn't have ghost tours.

R told me the inn was never for sale and it was given to the new owners in hope that it would continue on as it had for years. As far as I know the inn was definitely for sale (at least to anyone with a serious interest) and I remember one man who spent the better part of a year trying to buy it but for some reason that sale fell through. As for how the new owners acquired it, that's between them and the former owners.

R pointed out that under the new ownership there have been several negative reviews on the internet, so I spent a good deal of time checking out these comments.  This much I know, there are always going to be negative comments and the ones I read are pretty typical for the restaurant/hotel industry.  And while R feels quite strongly that the inn was in better hands with the previous owners, I know for a fact that once upon a time the former owners' dog ate a good portion of the bottom tier of a wedding cake. And the bride never found out!

In my opinion, weddings are the most difficult and stressful functions of all to work. Those Cinderella dreams seldom meet their expectations. And someone has to take the fall.

A couple of examples:

One of the more memorable weddings that took place at the inn involved a huge drunken brawl the night before the ceremony when the future bride and groom's guests threw cell phones, pool furniture, and each other into the pool, and thanks to all the glasses they shattered around and in the pool, it was closed the next day for cleanup. During the wedding reception, underage kids tried to get drinks at the bar and when that failed the grownups tried to smuggle drinks to them. That failed too and the bride and groom expressed their outrage at the bartender for daring to question them.  They paid their bill via tons of checks from family and friends and then blew town before most of those checks bounced.

A couple of years before I moved away I was given the dubious honor of being in charge of a small wedding between a middle aged minister and his young bride. Being in charge means that anything that goes wrong will automatically be your fault and hitting yourself in the head with a hammer would be much more fun.

My fun began when an old woman (guest only) grabbed my arm with her sharp little claw and screeched that I was to stop lighting the candles. The florist had left dozens of tea-lights sitting deep down inside wine glasses etc... and it was our job to light them.  She insisted they were going to break due to the heat and it would be all my fault. My assurances that I still had to light them totally pissed her off and she let everyone around her know this.  I made sure her table was not one that I was going to serve.

The maid of honor (the bride's sister) was in an anxious hot sweat during the whole event and continuously fussed and fretted over the brides train. When I asked her if she wanted a drink she said yes. When I asked her what she wanted to drink, her face was purple with fury as she screamed "Alcohol!"  Unfortunately since I was in charge I got stuck with her at the head table.

I thought I was home free and then it came time for me to cut the cake and that's when I knew I might have a problem. This was a wedding for about 50 or so people and sitting in front of me was a 12 inch round decorated layer cake. That's it. No back up sheet cake in the kitchen, just this piddly little cake.
Now, the way to cut a round cake into many pieces is this; you cut a circle within the cake so that it now looks like a tire with a hubcap. You then slice the outer circle into slices so it now looks like a radiating sun. The leftover inner circle is the last to be cut.
I took a deep breath, and feeling just like a surgeon and terrified of making a wrong cut, I got started.  I was busy plating pieces as I cut them and was so intent on my job that I nearly jumped out of my skin when someone shouted in my ear, "Oh my God! What are you doing?"  I nearly fell into the cake and I swear my heart stopped.
It was the groom and he was furious.
"Um, cutting the cake?" was my brilliant response which only made him angrier.
"I know you're cutting the cake but what is wrong with you?"  The mother of the bride had joined him and she was breathing fire too.
"Where are the napkins?" he spat at me.
Was that all? Relief flooded over me and I happily pointed out that each plate that had been delivered to the tables by my coworkers had a little cocktail napkin included.
"Not those napkins!!! Our napkins!"
Oh crap. I scrambled around and under the cake table. No special napkins.
I apologized profusely but the groom was having none of it. He called me incompetent and irresponsible and demanded that I get extra help. NOW!  During his tirade he stepped so close to me I was literally doing a back bend over the cake table and I was terrified I'd fall into it and it would collapse.
Once again I apologized for not being able to find their extra special napkins when he stated, "Of course you can't find them, they're in our room!" This was said with so much huffing and puffing and eye rolling from both Groom and Monster-in-law I'm surprised they didn't get dizzy.
"You mean you forgot them?" I made the mistake of asking and he went as purple as the maid of honor.
"No I didn't forget them!! You're supposed to get them!! Go!! Now!!"
While I explained to him that never in my life had I entered a guest's room for a function and that there was absolutely no mention of this on my banquet sheet, Monster-in-law flounced from the room. She returned and slapped the box of napkins on the table.
"Now you make sure every one of our guests gets a napkin," he hissed. "Do. You. Under. Stand?"
 I can't tell you how disappointed I was when upon opening the box to discover not 14 karat gold sheets of paper engraved by reclusive, blind, uncircumcised monks from a monastery deep within some distant poor third world country, but plain old common wedding napkins printed with the bride and groom's names and the date of the wedding. But I made sure every stinking guest got one.

Normally, when we cleaned up after a party, but guests remained to socialize, we cleared away everything but their drink glasses. That day I told my co-workers since these napkins were obviously so valuable and everyone was most likely going to take theirs home to frame, they were to leave every one of them behind, even those scattered about the floor and being ground into the carpet by the heels of careless guests.

I slunk home that night knowing full well I was going to be fired and I spent a depressing weekend waiting for the phone to ring but it never did. The next week when the banquet manager casually asked me how the wedding went I couldn't believe the groom hadn't tattled on me and when I explained to her what had happened she just laughed!  She told me that during the planning of the wedding she'd told the groom that the waitstaff never go into the guest's rooms and it was up to him to make sure everything we needed was in the dining room. I only wished I'd known that ahead of time, at least I would have been prepared.

So anyway, can you imagine what kind of review these weddings would have received on the internet? Because I'm sure 'their' story would be a lot different than our story;  "he said,"  "she said,"  kinda stuff.
And both of these events occurred before the new owners took over.

I have tons more stories but I'll stop with these. And I also plan on this being my last post about the inn.

At least for now.

Tying the knot on the Knotty Cat

Last month Hans and I finally tied the knot.

It's not like we were in a hurry or anything considering we'd been engaged for over four years but after Hans' awful car wreck in January we just decided that it was time. Originally, we were going to have a small ceremony with a notary and a couple of witnesses but a week after we applied for our license my daughter passed away. Needless to say, we postponed the ceremony but since the license was already paid for and was only good for two months we went ahead and got married anyway. But now instead of just a couple of witnesses, my other two children were able to attend, along with Hans' baby brother, a hockey friend of Hans, and a childhood friend of mine and her husband.

We had a full house.


Last minute galley preparations. My baby girl Becca is helping the bride(zilla).

Wilbur the ring bearer took his role seriously and tried very hard to appear manly. The rest of the time he played kissy face with every hapless innocent who was unfamiliar with his affectionate pitty ways.


 

My wonderful groom.







The ceremony was performed at the bow while at anchor. And yes it was pretty windy.





My bouquet (Publix!) matched my home made dress perfectly.

Hans, and his baby brother, who was able to come down from Toronto for our big day.
Becca, Bridezilla, and my oldest, Ryan.

The blended family.
Becca, Bridezilla, New Step Daddy, Ryan.





This post is just the tip of the iceberg. There has been so much going on around here it makes my head spin but I really wanted to get something/anything positive going here. And we received pictures from Hans' brother too, so I'll warn you now to be prepared for even more wedding photos and a really great video.
And what wedding doesn't suffer from a bit of craziness? Ours occurred the night before but more on that later.
Unfortunately my computer has been acting up and blogger went and made some updates that sent it into a tizzy and now I can't download pictures (I was lucky to get these posted before the breakdown).
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The evening after the wedding was over and the dust had finally settled, we were relaxing in the salon when Hans asked Baby Girl how she felt about him finally being her official step-father and no longer 'Future Step Daddy' as she had often referred to him. She was slouched on the settee and busy with her IPad but she stopped long enough to scrunch up her face and think about it. Her response was, "Can I have an allowance now?"

And when I asked Hans how he felt about everything he said, "At least Wilbur isn't a bastard anymore."

The former 'bastard' would like to know when I'm going to go to bed so he can stretch out. Apparently while I try to post on my blog, I seriously inhibit him.

Yeah, right! Because as soon as we go to bed, the little man will be right there between us with his big pitty paws which he'll then kick the hell out of us with while he has wild dog park dreams.