Lest I forget...

After talking to my sister, Michelle a few nights ago, she commented on the blog and reminded me that I had forgotten another "snag" on my wedding/honeymoon posts (read further for you inquiring minds). Once she reminded me about it, I laughed and mentioned that I was in the process of blocking that snafu out of my mind apparently...and it was working until she came along!! Nah, it really is funny now but I hardly remember laughing at the time. So, I must now recount it for all you blog readers out there...

Enter wedding day: In the midst of all the chaos, the snow/blizzard, the long drive to Columbia for the reception, the exhausting day, John and I had made it to the reception/church running a bit late, we had hurriedly put our wedding outfits back on and prepared to congregate with our party-goers. However, after I had rushed to get ready and bolted out of the bathroom, my youngest sister Cassie was already running toward me with not-so-good news. However, before her mouth could relay the information, my nose was already aware. Horrible smelling smoke was billowing through the hallways of the church, and the bitterly cold breeze was not trailing far behind. As it turned out, my loving, helpful, ever-so-kind grandmother (yes, Grandma Weekes, for all you that are related), was helping prep our reception food and mistakenly assumed a particular PLASTIC dish was well.....not plastic.....as she tried warming up the food in the oven. Thus it had melted all over the oven rack and oven. Burning plastic and smoke are two things you don't want to smell in the hallways right as people are arriving to celebrate your union. Not to mention, the oven rack was propped up in the snow outside to cool off....right next to the main guest entrance. What a wonderful decoration for everyone to see, an oven rack with melted and burnt with the plastic drip effect, amidst the tule and decoratively lit walkway.

Did I mention my family sometimes borders on "white trash"? What better way to represent our roots, than at my own reception right? I do love and adore my grandmother but there were a few choice words in my mind as I walked through the smoke filled hallways. After all, how can one get upset with a person that is trying to help you out?

On a somewhat related side story... Those that know and love Grandma Weekes completely understand what I'm talking about when I say she is hilarious. A memory that still makes me laugh is the condo/bbq grill incident. I was probably around 15 or 16 and grandma had gotten us her condos for the weekend. Quentin (my lil bro) and Grandma decide to light up the barbecue grill for hamburgers. Unbeknownst to them, they were working with "ready-to-light" charcoal. So, after dousing the charcoal in lighter fluid, they apparently leaned in to start the match....and POOF, the flames were there in full array. However, their eyebrows weren't. Technically the rest of us were inside and didn't get to witness the actual incident, which probably would have made us more sympathetic to their injuries. Instead, we witnessed both of them walking through the door with cinged hair and eyebrows. We laughed hysterically while trying to figure out what the heck happened to them. And Grandma Weekes doesn't get alarmed at ANYTHING so her laid back personality made it all the more humorous. The poor woman had a big red burn mark on her arm as well. We asked her if it hurt and all she responded with was....yeah it burns a little....then she meandered around like it was no big deal. Anyway, perhaps it was funnier to those in attendance at the time, because even now when we relive the experience we all start laughing.