Slightly Off Center

I've been back from Wisconsin for two days now, but already eyebrow-deep in work again, throwing and trimming pots for my early November show, whilst also creating ads for them. But finally, a few moments to reflect.

It was really a whirlwind trip. We flew in on Thursday to Minneapolis, drove down to Wisconsin Friday, went to my niece's wedding and reception Saturday, back to the Twin Cities Sunday, fly home Monday. Precious little time to ourselves, though we did manage a Friday fish-fry together while everyone else went to the rehearsal dinner. Cod and sweet potato fries, really good, and a classic Wisconsin appetizer: deep-fried cheese curds.

The wedding couldn't have been more Wisconsin. Bridesmaids' dresses were in brown bow-hunter camo, with red satin laces in back; groomsmen wore kakhis and brown vests, with red necktie, but their boutonnieres were mounted in spent shotgun shells. At the start of the processional, the "flower dude and dudette"--adult friends of the couple--walked up the aisle, strewing rose petals from camo-patterned fanny packs.

The celebrant was a priest from Stevens Point who'd gone to high school with the groom, so peppered his homily with a few mildly embarrassing anecdotes, but also did a rather nice job of reflecting on the changes marriage brings.

All in all, lovely, hilarious and touching in all the right quantities.

The reception was held in the loft of a converted barn, which was mildly problematic, as several of the guests had mobility issues: my mother, aunt, and father of one of the guests in wheelchairs, a cousin with walker, Denise with a cane. They offered to carry folks up the stairs, though only the father took them up on it. Denise managed with her cane; everyone else ate downstairs at picnic tables, which at least meant they avoided the crush upstairs. Food was pretty good for wedding fare, though I'm not sure barbecue chicken breasts and potatoes and beef gravy really go together. My brother made sure there was potica at every table, and I wound up having to explain what it was several times to members of the groom's family.

I was driving Mom, so we didn't stay for the dance. Drove home through the dusk, slowing to pass crowds of Mennonite teenagers on bikes, pedaling along the shoulder of the road. (Knew they were Mennonites by their clothes, and because if they'd been Amish, they'd have had horse and buggies.) Saturday night must be date night.