I can hardly believe that today is mine and Paul’s 23rd wedding anniversary.
We will celebrate with me cooking dinner (remember, I really do love to cook) and watching our wedding video. We will then probably watch a comedy, or maybe one of my favorite romantic movies like “The Notebook.”
I love in our wedding video when I am walking down the aisle and the videographer caught Paul letting out his breath, which he had obviously been holding. Thank goodness he began breathing before he fainted.
It always makes me cry seeing my sweet father walking me down the aisle. He has been gone almost three years and I miss him daily.
I love weddings. They are certainly more fun to attend than plan. I was lucky enough to be living at home with my parents when I planned mine, and my mother helped me with everything. Of course, I had wonderful bridesmaids and family who made sure the entire experience was a fun and memorable.
We had just bought a house in Forsyth County, and though Paul had been living there for a few months, I could hardly wait to move in after our wedding.
We were both excited to “play house,” and we cut our honeymoon short to get back home and properly set up.
It was a cute, smallish three-bedroom, two-bath house on an acre in west Forsyth. Coming from apartment life, we felt like we lived in a mansion on a farm.
There was a hundred-year-old oak tree in the front yard and a little stream in the back of our wooded back yard. Also, we backed up to a pasture, complete with cows.
As a city girl, I was thrilled to live in the country. And believe me, back then Cumming definitely felt like “the country.”
After unpacking wedding gifts and writing thank-you notes (do people still do this?), we began making trips to the home improvement store — which was all the way in Roswell, if you can believe it.
When you have a new home and you come from an apartment, you have no clue what you need, but it is quite a bit.
One of the first things Paul did was to pull “vines” off of my beautiful oak tree. Some of you may know where this is going.
The vines were covering up the beauty of the tree, so we wanted them gone. He pulled and pulled and pulled.
The next day we both had a really bad case of poison ivy. Everywhere.
Paul had it particularly bad, getting it in his eyes. It was horrible.
We bought calamine lotion and everything else the store had. I put a big sheet on our bed and pretty much poured the pink, slimy stuff all over our red, itchy bodies. Not a pretty honeymoon picture for sure, but one we can look back on and laugh.
As it turns out, Paul is highly allergic to both poison ivy and oak.
He is an expert at spotting the pesky plants, and he steers clear except when spraying them with weed killer.
When I tell the honeymoon/poison oak story, people usually end up telling me their funny or calamitous wedding or honeymoon stories.
I suppose those stories are what make the memories.
We seldom remember when everything goes along as planned. It is when something goes awry that we commit it to memory.
Please e-mail me with your funny or disastrous wedding memories; I’m sure we could fill many columns with such stories.
Oh, and I promise, I will just use your first name.
Adlen Robinson is author of “Home Matters: The Guide to Organizing Your Life and Home.” E-mail her at firstname.lastname@example.org.