Two things I know for sure:

1)  We have entered the realm of single digits.  Holy smokes.

2)  I have a colossal headache and feel dangerously close to the crash and burn state, so I’m going to bed before sundown.  Night night.

Tonight at the supper table, I mentioned to the boys that we need to go shopping for some clothes for them to wear to the wedding.  They were less than enthusiastic.  Shopping is not their favorite activity, especially for dress clothes, especially with their mom who encourages them to check the clearance racks.  I don’t understand the way men shop.  They go into a store, look at one display, pick up the exact same outfit and head to the cash register without even trying it on.  The whole ordeal takes less than 15 minutes.  I guess I should be thankful.  My sons assured me we’ll have time to take care of this on the morning of the wedding.  Oh yeah…

Anna here, reporting from Wedding Command Central. After a four-hour drive, complete with a scary amount of coffee consumption and tons of Beyonce blaring through the speakers, I finally sit in the family room, watching as we all slowly lose our minds. And I mean that. Here is some evidence that we will all seem a little more sane after August 13th…

Scene #1: Living room, Brewer game in the background (per usual)
Me: I need to eat more taffy.
Mom: NO.
Dad: Oh go ahead honey.
Mom: NO WAY.
Me: Well, will you order more taffy so I can eat more taffy?!
Mom: NO! I’VE BOUGHT WAY MUCH EXPENSIVE CANDIES.

Scene #2: Target. Returning a few duplicate gifts.
Me: Yeah, I need to return this item.
Employee: That’s not our item. I think that is from Bed Bath and Beyond.
You know its starting to look grim when I’m trying to return items to the wrong store. I would love to try to return other things to stores… like our dog, Bo. We’ve never been the best of friends.

Today has been one of reflection as I left what has been my home for the last fifteen months. We lovingly call our home, “The Summer Cottage”. This is because we moved into this  suburban lake-side-5 bedroom-two bathroom paradise last summer. Mind you, it was on the market and we constantly expected to get kicked out by a potential buyer. Five of my best friends and I moved into The Cottage graduation weekend of 2010, all U of Minnesota-Twin Cities Alumni. These women hold an incredibly dear place in my heart, three of them standing in my wedding party, and leaving almost tore my heart into pieces. However, I was so thankful to have the calm, reassuring, and strong presence of my man. It was a bitter-sweet departure as I mourned what I was leaving, but looked so forward to the adventure ahead.

Well, Bernie Brewer just went down the Kalahari home run slide as shouts of, “WOOO!” rang in a three run home run.

“Honey, if you write that much I’m never going to be able to keep up with that.”–Mom. Haha.

Turning that calendar page over to August sent a shiver through me this morning.  Now we are on the very page of the wedding date.  Time to buckle down and get serious. 

I rolled my last cake ball tonight.  Now it’s all about the dipping.  I made one extra cake to practice on.  Also, because we have some gluten-free guests and a gluten-free bride, I have experimented with various gluten-free cakes.  Instead of frosting holding the crumbs together, I used Pomander’s all fruit spread (raspberry).  We’ll see how the taste test goes this week.

The bride-to-be will be arriving at home tomorrow to spend her final single days with mom and dad.  I expect things will be picking up with many details to tie up before the 13th.  Put your seat belt on.

Sweet Sabbath day of rest.  I love my Sundays. 

Went to church, went to a ballgame, read a book, fell asleep, watched some TV, went to bed.

The best day ever.

Only two weeks to go! 

I’ve been praying for the day of the wedding to be a bright sunny day with a slight breeze and low humidity.  Now I’m wondering if I failed to mention what specific Saturday I was putting in my request for, because today is a bright sunny day with a slight breeze and low humidity.  Is it possible to have two of those kind of Saturdays in August? 

And now I just checked the extended forcast for next Saturday and it’s calling for a bright sunny day with a slight breeze and low humidity.  Is it remotely possible to have three of those kind of Saturdays in August in Wisconsin? 

Please, Lord.  I’m talking about August 13th.  I won’t ask for any more acts of nature after this.  Just one beautiful day.  On August 13th at 1:00 p.m. CDT.  Thanks.

We interrupt our regularly scheduled program to bring you this report:

Jake pitched in the Home Talent League All Star Game tonight in Madison.  He did great.  If there’s anything I enjoy, it’s a baseball game under the lights on a beautiful summer night.  I am always amazed when either one of my boys takes the mound.  I think to myself, “Who is that….man?”  *sigh*

We will now return to our regularly scheduled wedding countdown.

This afternoon I went into the dining room to get my daily allotment of two Jordan almonds and was shocked to find that the bag had been moved.  Evidently, I have not been the only one dipping into the delectable treats.  But who?  The boys never go into the dining room so I didn’t think they were the culprits.  Besides, they really aren’t the Jordan almond-types. 

It had to be PB.  When I confronted him with the evidence, he gave me that wide-eyed innocent look before realizing he was cornered.  He admitted to taking two almonds out of the bag, but quickly added that he didn’t really like them that much. 

Sixteen more days.  Man, will I be glad to get this candy out of the house.  It’s turning us into thieves and liars.

Tucked into the pages of Deuteronomy 24 there is a gem.  In the midst of laws about tithes and offerings and uncleanness in the camp, under the heading “Miscellaneous Laws” is this treasure:

“If a man has recently married, he must not be sent to war or have any other duty laid on him.  For one year he is to be free to stay at home and bring happiness to the wife he has married.”  Deut. 24:5

Sounds like a year long honeymoon to me!  Can you imagine?  The husband’s only duty was to bring happiness to his bride.  The Message version puts it like this:  “When a man takes a new wife, he is not to go out with the army or be given any business or work duties. He gets one year off simply to be at home making his wife happy.”

I admit there’s a lot of Old Testament laws that I just don’t know what to do with, such as “Do not cook a young goat in its mothers milk,” or “Do not wear clothing woven of two kinds of material”.  I’m sure there’s some significance to those commands but I haven’t got a clue.  However, this one in Deuteronomy makes more sense to me.  I wouldn’t mind my husband dedicating a year of his life to making me happy.  Wait a minute.  PB has pretty much dedicated his whole life to making me happy.  Huh.

Dan and Anna, make each other happy your whole life long.

RSPV means “répondez s’il vous plaît”,  or “please respond”.

I’ve been guilty of failing to send back those little response cards that come in wedding invitations.  I’m so sorry.  It does put the hosts in an awkward position.  Do you call, text, or email, “So are you coming or not?!”  But then, maybe the invitation got lost in the mail because the zip code was wrong on the envelope and it’s sitting in a post office somewhere, languishing.  I made a list of over 50 invitees who are keeping us guessing.  That could put us off by 100 meatballs.  That’s 50 cake balls I don’t need to dip. 

I read again the story Jesus told in Matthew 22 about the father who was putting on a wedding banquet for his son.  Except nobody came.  He sent out servants to let the guests know it was party time, but they gave all kinds of excuses why they couldn’t attend.  One bought a field (won’t it still be there tomorrow?), another bought a cow (come on, really? a cow?) and a third had just gotten married himself (I’ll buy that one).  So, the father brought in beggars off the street to fill the reception hall. 

The invitation is out there.  God has sent it.  He’s waiting for our RSVP.  Please, come.