New York, Part 6: Saturday--Wedding prep
Tue, Apr. 19th, 2011 02:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scarlettinaThe day started out in a leisurely fashion, discussing the agenda for the day and the wedding. My brother and I walked the dog and caught up, just the two of us, which was a goodness. Then it was time for the planned bonding experience with my brother's fiance Michele and her daughter Valerie: a pre-wedding manicure and pedicure. Anyone who knows me knows I rarely indulge in mani-pedis, I mean really rarely. Michele and Valerie, on the other hand, are old hands at this ritual, and I got teased a little about being able to stand the extra-girlie activity. I knew that we'd be meeting Michele's sisters and nieces at the salon, but I had no idea what I was in for.
The day was gray and breezy, and much colder than any of us expected. When we arrived at the salon, we were greeted by Michele's sister and three young girls--her two daughters and the daughter of Michele's other sister, who couldn't join us after all. The eldest girl, blond and blue-eyed, who preferred to be called Catt but was called Catherine by the adults, came up to me and said brightly, "Hi Aunt Janna! Is that OK? Can I call you that?" How could I but acquiesce? And suddenly I had three more nieces than I'd had when I got up that morning. The next thing I knew, we were all consulting with each other about nail polish colors, and who was or wasn't going to get their toes done as well. It was a cheerful, crazy scene. Catt was especially excited when she heard I was a writer and wanted to read everything I've written. I will be . . . choosy about what I share with her for the moment.
Once we were polished and pampered (two days later, the skin on my hands still feels new), Michele, Valerie and I parted company with the others, went home, had lunch with Steve, and then headed out again to solve the shoe conundrum I'd created by giving Michele a necklace. I was impressed with her shopping-fu. She found shoes within 45 minutes of the start of the expedition, shoes she declared far superior to those she had originally chosen to wear.
Dinner that evening was to be a getting-to-know-you meal with Michele's parents, me, and my cousins Paul and Ellen. Ellen called that afternoon to let us know she'd come down with a stomach virus and that the weather in Raleigh was so bad that the airport was closed anyway; she wouldn't be coming to the wedding. Steve was very upset, and I was deeply disappointed. This was about as close to a family reunion as we've managed to make in years. Her absence was keenly felt.
Paul arrived at the appointed time. Michele's parents were late (as she predicted they would be). But the meal--a full kosher turkey feast--was a great success, and I found Michele's parents pleasant. Paul was engaging and lively, though signs of the recent loss of his wife were unmistakable. We probably ended the evening later than we should have given Sunday's planned early start, but it ended late for all the right reasons.
At some point during the evening, both Steve and Michele remarked on how Valerie had taken to me. She is typically shy of people and Michele has been working with her on her communication skills. I didn't have trouble with her. It seems that was remarkable in their experience.
I was glad for the opportunity to have quality time with everyone, because I knew that Sunday would be crazy busy.
The day was gray and breezy, and much colder than any of us expected. When we arrived at the salon, we were greeted by Michele's sister and three young girls--her two daughters and the daughter of Michele's other sister, who couldn't join us after all. The eldest girl, blond and blue-eyed, who preferred to be called Catt but was called Catherine by the adults, came up to me and said brightly, "Hi Aunt Janna! Is that OK? Can I call you that?" How could I but acquiesce? And suddenly I had three more nieces than I'd had when I got up that morning. The next thing I knew, we were all consulting with each other about nail polish colors, and who was or wasn't going to get their toes done as well. It was a cheerful, crazy scene. Catt was especially excited when she heard I was a writer and wanted to read everything I've written. I will be . . . choosy about what I share with her for the moment.
Once we were polished and pampered (two days later, the skin on my hands still feels new), Michele, Valerie and I parted company with the others, went home, had lunch with Steve, and then headed out again to solve the shoe conundrum I'd created by giving Michele a necklace. I was impressed with her shopping-fu. She found shoes within 45 minutes of the start of the expedition, shoes she declared far superior to those she had originally chosen to wear.
Dinner that evening was to be a getting-to-know-you meal with Michele's parents, me, and my cousins Paul and Ellen. Ellen called that afternoon to let us know she'd come down with a stomach virus and that the weather in Raleigh was so bad that the airport was closed anyway; she wouldn't be coming to the wedding. Steve was very upset, and I was deeply disappointed. This was about as close to a family reunion as we've managed to make in years. Her absence was keenly felt.
Paul arrived at the appointed time. Michele's parents were late (as she predicted they would be). But the meal--a full kosher turkey feast--was a great success, and I found Michele's parents pleasant. Paul was engaging and lively, though signs of the recent loss of his wife were unmistakable. We probably ended the evening later than we should have given Sunday's planned early start, but it ended late for all the right reasons.
At some point during the evening, both Steve and Michele remarked on how Valerie had taken to me. She is typically shy of people and Michele has been working with her on her communication skills. I didn't have trouble with her. It seems that was remarkable in their experience.
I was glad for the opportunity to have quality time with everyone, because I knew that Sunday would be crazy busy.