Wedding Journal

You think that this exclamation is coming from the mouth of a bride, right? Wrong.  Schreib-zilla strikes!  Cheryl and I have been working on the whole floral thing… what kind of greenery goes where and in what kind of vessel thing. The whole thing is overwhelming in a Martha Stewart sort of, “your bouquet should be a towering pile of out-of-season near-extinct orchids peppered with chinchillas and tied with ribbon from a Renaissance tapestry found at a special flea market for $2 before they were popular” way.

So I asked the ever-reasonable Schreibs to weigh in on flowers…and um…you see the resulting diva-esque quote.  “But Schreiber, lupines aren’t even available in the floral trade, they don’t make good cut flowers, they wither.”

“I want lupines.”

“Weeds tied with a bow it is”

Cheryl, (MC Lean’s spectacularly humorous mother) wrote us the other day that she would like to host a hot tub party in the hot tub adjacent to the Schreiber’s room at the Wild Horse Inn. Maybe it was my state of fatigue or distraction while reading her message, but I honestly thought she might be serious… for a minute or two… and images danced in my head of our equally zany sets of parents stewing, all beet-red in a hot tub at our wedding.

The result of this image was a two-day amnesia which was broken by a message on voice mail from Cheryl, “I hadn’t heard back from you since I e-mailed our hot tub party suggestion…I thought that you would die laughing when you saw it, but then I didn’t hear back from you, so I thought, ‘oh no, maybe she thought I was serious!’ but of course I wasn’t… [heee heee] so, anyway, talk to you later, Hon”