Don't Mess With Texas

Ah . . . on the second day of vacation recovery, and ready to think more
about vacation. I still feel like I have vacation hangover - you know,
the headachy-neckachy feeling traveling leaves you with? Brie seemed a
little fuzzy yesterday too, sleeping more than usual.

Lindsay is the one who came to my mind often and often this vacation. I
was walking back to the cabin after the weenie roast, holding an empty
bottle and thinking, "Linds, I sat on a lake in Texas at sunset, drank a
beer, and thought of you." The weeny roast is foggy in my memory, because
I'd just woken up from a nap, but I do recall fire ants, the charry hot
dogs that Coleman cooked and no one else would eat, and learning that
Tammy was another wife in favor of her family eating whole-wheat products
(whoo-hoo!). The buns were almost better than the dogs because of her
shopping choices. (Is that Texan, Linds?)

Tammy was also the one who allowed for this new mom to go swimming for the
first time post-baby. While I was splashing in the lake, she stood on the
dock and let Brie sleep in her arms, jealously guarding her from the sun.

Oh and I should say more about the wedding. First, I don't think I
emphasized how pretty the bride was. With her golden curls, she looked
like every little girl's dream of a bride, and it was great fun afterwards
talking to her mom, Brenda, about how the hair had been done and the dress
had been picked. And the groom truly looked like the sort of man who
makes an excellent husband - serious during the vows and smiling
afterwards.

And the reception was great - I got to dance! Getting to dance and swim
felt like feasting after the fasting of the low-activity rule enforced by
my doctor post-birth. Adam and I dredged up what memories we could of the
ballroom class we took, and apparently it was enough, because we got
complemented on our technique. Again, baby thanks where baby thanks are
due - to my memory, it was sister Sheila and Mom Snell who did the
baby-holding so we could have fun this way during the reception. I
presented Mom with her dance partner, and she took her with grandmotherly
glee. And I have a picture in my head of Sheila surrounded by other
girls, holding Brigid, who looked perfectly content. (In fact, I think we
got a picture of it.) Obviously, the girl will make a great mom someday.

Tammy and Dad took to the floor too, and, I'm ashamed to say it, I think
they outshone Adam and I. Afterwards, I learned from Tammy that they had
taken lessons too, but I think they lessons they took, um, TOOK better.
:)

I also got to meet and remeet Sandy and Melody and Kerry (sp?) and Jackie
and Cynthia and so many other people that I know I won't remember them
all. This huge family is a shock to the system of someone whose parents
each only have one full-blooded sibling. I feel like a Northerner in the
South, or an American in the Territories, or something like that. It's so
different, but so warm and welcoming, it just makes me scared that I won't
know how to act since I'm not used to it, even though I really, really
want to do a good job as one of the new(er) parts of the family.
Thankfully, my husband, who is used to it, gave me a good piece of advice.
He said, "Jess, just have fun."

And I really did. God bless Texas!