Holding Still

nerves

Is riotous laughing at one's own jokes a developmental stage?  Not really jokes.  Nonsensical, annoying, absolutely irritating utterances followed by forced, extended laughing.  When will it end?  Will it?  

Because despite my attempts at calmness, at holding back, at NOT SAYING ANYTHING, my nerves are beginning to fray.  Like ye old shoelaces children used to have in their sneakers from excessive tying.  I even had 48 hours off to stare into space and hang with Chauncey and Al like in the old days.  My parents took the guys for the weekend to give us a little break.  

You'd think I'd be all chill and "hey guys, what's up?"  But I am not.  Maybe it began with the initial arguing and "Mommy!  My brother ____... '' fill in the blank with your favorite Cain and Abel transgression.  

Or maybe it's just because I am an old woman.  That is a huge possibility.  

All I know is that I don't drink, I don't smoke, I need an outlet.  Cherry Garcia, anyone?

Ai yai yai

Oh my.  Another long absence.  My faded tan hands appear flaccid and incompetent upon the keyboard.  It's probably the rain.  Water retention and all that.

The summer.  Seems to be ending, though there are some last blasts once in a while.  This includes the terrifying attacks we endured (still endure? only time will tell), the past two weeks.  It started with Al itching up a storm and the dog infested with what we thought were an inordinate number of eensy-weensy tick babies.  

"Have you ever seen so many ticks?"  

"No, I haven't.  Are you sure they're ticks?"

"What else could they be?"

The debate wore on.  The itchy spots on Alex increased, and then I started to itch.  Always in unmentionable places.  Only to be shown to intimates -- basically, ourselves.  And Chauncey.  Who was banished from the bedroom.  One night, 1am to be precise, Al knelt on the bed, staring down at his stomach --

"They're crawling all over me!"  

I stared in disbelief as a posse of reddish-brown, six-legged extremely tiny bugs raced around Al's midriff.

"Take a shower, please, take a shower!!!"  

I stripped the bed, threw all of the blankets, pillows, and sundries into the laundry.  New sheets, blankets, pjs.  We both showered.  Splashed with witch hazel to ease the itching.  Onto Sr. Google who corroborated my suspicion of CHIGGERS!

A friend and her husband had had an outbreak, so I always had the suspicion in the back of my mind.  We were disgusted, but thankful that they weren't ticks.

Chauncey is still banished from the bedroom.  I think that chiggers can survive outdoors until the ground temperature dips below 60 degrees fahrenheit.  He will have to wait.  The chigger population on Chauncey has dipped, but we still find the odd one or two on his forepaws.  Poor guy.  He's taken to sleeping under the coffee table.  He looks a little guilty and stares longingly at our bedroom door most days.  But he seems to have accepted his fate.

How's that for a longed-for blog post?!  Gripping!

complaints

Man am I tired.  I have 20 million things to do but no energy with which to do them.  I'm depressed about both sons' school situations now, not just Lire's.  We're not in a position to pay tuition at a private school, so I fantasize about renting or selling this house so we can move school districts.

H spent a day at the school where he'll be supposedly spending the next FOUR years.  As always, I asked how his day went.  He said, "Good."  I asked what types of things he did, what he liked, how the other kids were, etc.  He finally told me that there had been a kid who had been mean to him all day.  The kid kept telling him to "shut!" (I asked if he had said "shut up" but apparently he only said the first part), and tried to push him outside on the playground.  And the kid (and another girl) told him his pineapple at lunch was "disgusting."

Here's some info about Habtam.  He almost NEVER tells us when kids aren't nice.  Because kids can be like that.  Habtam can be like that.  He only tells us when it really bothers him.  I asked if the kid had been mean to anyone else, and he said no, and that that was not fair.

I thought this was a pretty unfortunate experience to have at a brand new school where he was supposed to go next year.  I know the teacher, so I decided I'd call her and see if she had noticed anything.

She told me, "sometimes, when children have had a bad year at school, they will speak negatively about a new school and say they don't want to go there... blah, blah, blah."  

Bad year?  Habtam didn't have a bad year.  He grew a lot, is learning to read, is able to articulate how he's feeling or if he needs help...

Well I thought that you had said that he had a hard time because he was the only black child in his class...

He doesn't like being the only one, that's true, but no one does!

Basically, she didn't show any concern that a little boy's first day visiting his new school was perhaps negatively affected by a mean kid.  She told me to stop focusing on the negative, that he was smiling all day, etc.  

Sure, he had a good time too, but I just wanted to find out about this one thing.  It's strange.  Habtam doesn't usually complain about such things, I was concerned.

Only after I said, "Well then never mind, I've gotta go," did she backtrack and say she would talk to the other teachers and see if they had noticed anything.  

Am I crazy, or wouldn't it have been nice for her to express a wee bit of concern at the onset, while still reassuring me that he had smiled most of the day, seemed excited about learning, etc?  

I think about validation a lot, because I struggle to do it myself, when people are unhappy about something.  Validate first, then pose other points of view to solve the issue.

This does not bode well.  This is a one-room school where you have the same teacher for FOUR years.  Habtamu says he is very nervous about being there until fourth grade.  Me too.

I haven't told him how I feel, because the last thing he needs is to worry about it.  

I have to go there today to drop something off paperwork-wise.  

Double-sigh.

Obama book

I have the pleasure of reviewing a book for Mom Central/Mothertalk --  Obama:  The Historic Journey.  I was so happy to be able to participate, to be given a book about Barack Obama that I could share with my sons.  I was not disappointed.

My first thought was that it was not unlike a children's version of Dreams of My Father.  It traces Barack Obama's life from birth to inauguration day, giving two-page spread profiles of the significant people in his life:  mother, father, grandparents, Michelle and the girls and even Jeremiah White.

I especially appreciated the book's straightforward discussions of race throughout.  For example, how difficult it was for Barack to feel like he belonged, being a biracial child with a white mom and grandparents, or how Michelle Obama's freshman year roommate's mother pleaded with Princeton to move her daughter so she could have a white roommate.  Yikes!

I like the way the book is laid out graphically -- it's mostly easy to follow.  There are quotes interspersed throughout, highlighted in red and blue, a family tree to further explain Obama's history, an electoral map, and explanations of things like delegates and the candidate's positions on issues.  The photographs are wonderful.  My older son Habtamu is mesmerized by them.  I'm looking forward to when he and his brother are able to read it on their own.  

I think one of the things that helped me recapture the happiness and hope I (and so many others) experienced in November and January was this interchange between Michelle and Barack.  He and she had spent time with his grandmother in Hawaii, trying to decide if he should run for president:

"You've got to ask yourself...Why do you want to do this?..."  

"This I know:  When I raise my hand and take that oath of office, I think the world will look at us differently.  And millions of kids across this country will look at themselves differently."

I can't top that, so that is what I'll leave you with.  

A book shower

I am back on the book review bandwagon!  I just received The Double-Daring Book for Girls by Andrea J. Buchanan and Miriam Peskowitz.  I reviewed their first book, The Daring Book for Girls last year.  This is a further exploration into projects, trivia, experiments and history for girls.  I ended up giving the first book to my husband's 12 year old cousin, who tells me she would like to have this one when I'm finished.  I consider that to be a good review in itself.

It's a fun book, I enjoyed the random historical facts about women I read, and was particularly interested in the crafts -- dream catchers; decoupage bowls; batik.  I'll use that info for future art classes, for sure.  I also got absorbed in the hula hoop factoids, as our older son, H. is an amazing hula-hooper.  I believe that the world record is 7 hours, which I think he could beat.  However, he is a little boy, so I think he would lose interest after a few minutes and move on.  A dream I must put on hold.

The people encouraging our reviews have asked us to turn this into a book shower, in the spirit of Daring in the title.  I considered the hula hoop, of course, and I may still do it.  But because it's a rainy day here, and I love words, I will direct you to an abridged list of Words to Impress from page 199 in the book.  I dare you to write a poem using one, two or more of these words.  I chose my favorite, the Haiku format -- first line 5 syllables, second line 7 syllables, third line 5 syllables.  You can do whatever type of poem you like.  Just leave it in the comments.  

I hope you can participate.  If not, I'm getting the hula hoop out!

Some of the more interesting words from the book:

agnosia:  The inability to recognize objects through the senses.

bloviate:  To talk for a long time, in a pompous manner.

chimerical:  Wildly fanciful; highly improbable

doppelganger:  A person's double; a ghostly twin of a living person.

euphonious:  Pleasing to the ear.

herculean:  Of unusual size, power, or difficulty; resembling Hercules in strength or courage.

imbroglio:  A difficult and complicated entanglement; a confusing situation.

jongleur:  A wandering minstrel.

larrikin:  A person given to comical or outlandish behavior; a rowdy or disorderly person.AWuidnunc:  a gossip or busybody; a nosy person.

tabescent:  Progressively getting smaller, wasting away.

undulant:  Resembling waves; wavelike in motion.

wizened:  Withered; shriveled; dried up; shrunken.

And here are my three haiku:

1. Tangling tails, backs arched,

Euphonious cats chorus.

The house cat's ears twitch.

2. Imbroglio my arse!

This is a fine example 

of just walk away.

3. Its nose pokes too far.

Personal stories are its food.

A Quidnunc it is.

Enjoy!

what it is?

Good Goddess!  Where has she been?

In general, I have found that when I don't blog, it's because I am busy, and generally, content.  I tend to write more when I'm depressed, since it helps get things out of my mind.  Of course, when I'm in the depths, I don't write either, so.  Well, I'm back!

LOTS is going on.  On the bummer front is the fact that Lire will not be able to stay at the closer, more diverse public school for kindergarten next school year.  I became political, got a petition signed by more than the required amount, met many neighbors who supported what we decided to call "school choice,"  went to a contentious school board meeting with some even-headed intelligent folks, but some louder, fear-mongering residents as well.  Whose concerns super-ceded ours, I guess.  Enough so that my resolution to allow school choice will NOT be put on the ballot, and so only 20 or so people will show up to vote (that's how small and apathetic our village is) instead of the large numbers my resolution would bring.  

A lot of people are pretty ticked.  Me especially.  Anyway, I'm keeping my hopes up that something might happen.  We could move, for one thing, and we could choose another school district in which to live.  

The boys, meanwhile, are doing really, really well.  They are growing gigantically, are settling into their lives more and more, and impress us when we step back and watch them when they don't know we're watching them.  They are really great guys.  My relationship with H, while not un-bumpy, has improved vastly, I'm happy to say.  I'm not sure what it was, time, probably.  He still has his behavior chart, which he is in charge of, and to which his teacher contributes.  He is learning how to read, can hula-hoop like a Guinness Book champion, and is getting along socially much better than before.  I think he is finally feeling more confident in himself.

Lire is still cracking me up, is still squeezable, and has a new-found love for all of his stuffed animals and his baby Deji (my old AA Cabbage Patch doll).  He wears him around the house and tucks him in each morning and night.  He has become a real artist, having multiple projects going at once, and I guarantee will one day grace the Food Network with his presence.

I am working all over town, enjoying being a math/art/library educator, though I'm a bit schizophrenic -- hard to remember where I'm going on which day.  Alex is rediscovering his inner musician and is mixing up a storm.  Chauncey is still a champ and my favorite dog.  Our lives are still on hold as far as the summer goes.  And we just met an amazing little boy from Ethiopia who is staying a mere mile from our house.  He is an incredible person.  H. said, "D. is the nicest boy I have ever met."  

Spending time with him has been an intense experience, especially for H.  They started playing as if they had known one another their whole lives.  I was brought back to my time in Ethiopia, all the sights and sounds.  I can only imagine how it has triggered things for our boys.  H. told me, "Mommy, I have some bad news.  I want to live in Ethiopia."

I told him it wasn't bad news, except that we would certainly miss him.  Maybe when he was older he could live here and in Ethiopia?  He liked that idea, and said he wanted to build things for people in Ethiopia.  

We're going to play again tomorrow, and have lunch, so that will be fun for us all.

Lost tooth:

I want to lose these suspenders!

down

It's one of those days when I feel a bit overwhelmed by all the things I'm supposed to be doing.  I've prepared for my art class this afternoon, as much as I can, and I'm on top of math for tomorrow.  

Art and math.  No wonder I feel disjointed.  On the annoying bureaucratic front, I am in the midst of creating a ballot initiative so our younger son can go to kindergarten in the more racially diverse public school 2.5 miles from our home rather than the less racially diverse public school 8 miles from our home.  "It's always been this way," is the answer one invariably gets when one asks why kids in our tiny bare-bones village are bussed to the next town over for school, rather than using the school in our own town.  

I won't go into the details, but it's frustrating, to say the least.  I wrote the initiative, now I need to go to the next school board meeting and hope that the board ok's what I wrote and allow it to go to the next stage.  If so, then I need to get enough signatures on a petition by April 20th to allow it on the ballot in May.  If that happens, I need to get people to actually come and vote.  We live in a tiny village, where very few people come out and vote unless it's a well-publicized issue.  

I should have started all this much earlier, I know.  But I had no idea that it would be so bureaucratic.  I thought I could petition the board of ed and that a contract could be signed with the closer, desired school and Lire could continue to attend.  Because he is attending that school this year.  He's in Pre-k, and we're paying the tuition, which for Pre-K is quite reasonable.  Once you hit kindergarten, however, it gets a bit too high for our slim wallets.

Sigh.

The real estate market is quite still these days, as you can imagine.  We may not rent our house out, after all, which means no moving for us.  Which -- good or bad, I don't even know anymore.

All I know is, I wish it were at least 10 degrees warmer.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

I was recently given the opportunity to review Out of the Mouths of Babes:  Parenting from a Child's Perspective by Dyan Eybergen, RN for Mothertalk.  

Eybergen is a pediatric psychiatric nurse who, along with her husband, is raising three sons.  The book was advertised as being child-centered, specifically acknowledging the fact that each child's temperament is different, thus they will respond differently to situations and to parenting techniques.  

As my boys couldn't be more different, I was interested to hear anything enlightening on how to fairly treat children differently.  It's quite an issue for us.  Especially since our older boy is very concerned with fairness.  If he sees us treating his brother differently discipline-wise, for example, he feels very hurt.  Yet they are so different and require such different strategies and even language, sometimes.  I think I need to find some different words to describe different!

Enough about me!  On with the book!

I enjoyed the book for the most part.  However, I found it to sort of glance over issues and not give specific enough instruction on how to actually speak to your different children, or how to talk to yourself when your child does something that pushes your buttons.  She does give personal anecdotes that help illustrate a point she is making -- for example, in the toilet-training chapter, she divulges the very personal story of peeing her own knickers while a young woman, laughing with a friend, of course.  I appreciated that one, because I've been there, myself.  Her point being that no one humiliated her for wetting her pants, so that a parent shouldn't make his/her child feel badly for having an accident, either.

She emphasizes respecting your children and their differences, being patient with their different temperaments and allowing them the time they need to decide that they are ready to sleep alone in their beds, try a new food, or use the potty.  She is very child-centered in her presentation, which is good, of course, and the way it should be.  And she does discuss her own frailties as a parent, which I appreciated.  However, she does tend to be a bit judgemental, especially when it comes to rewards and behavior systems.  Each chapter traces a child's journey from infant to preschool/early elementary age, with the parent's role at each stage discussed in relation to the subject at hand -- sexuality, discipline, sleep-training, etc.  

Having not been there for my sons' babyhood, I found the chapter discussing discipline and sibling rivalry the most interesting, but again, her lack of flexibility regarding reward systems felt judgemental to me.  Probably because we use them with our older son, I may be a bit defensive.  Her discussions seemed to be suited to children whose behavior falls between "normal" ranges, and does not take into account children with histories of trauma, children who have been adopted, etc.  Not that some of the information wasn't helpful.  I just think that children with the histories I've described are so very individual, that a parent can use much more specific strategies and words to help find his/her way with that child.  Books that have served that purpose for me have been Beyond Consequences, Logic and Control (also against using behavior systems); Nurturing Adoptions (which utilizes behavior systems for extreme behaviors); and  Raising Our Children, Raising Ourselves .

The title is meant to illustrate that we are to look to the child, to her words, to help us figure out how to treat and talk to her.  She also wishes to have us, the parents, put ourselves back into our children's places and try to imagine how they are feeling.  She includes actual quotes from children in her life -- her own, I believe, as well as the children of family and friends.  They are very cute quotes, as you can imagine, and give the book a more poetic feel, rather than a parenting-y feel, which is a nice change.

I guess I was expecting something with more concrete examples of how to treat different children differently while still being loving and fair.  I don't think it's necessarily as helpful for parents whose children who have experienced trauma, as I mentioned above, but there are other books out there like that, which I also mentioned previously.  An easy read, short and pleasant, but not necessarily memorable.

rotten teeth and preese

Been gone too long.

Habtam had one of his troublesome teeth pulled last week.  It ballooned up again, causing quite a stir at the nurse's office at his school. 

"Um, yes, we did notice the swelling."

"Well, he insisted he wasn't in pain, and we gave him some medicine in case.  He really wants to go to school."

About three days of this, with Habtamu reassuring us that he really, really wanted to go to school, while we waited for the swelling to diminish with the antibiotics.

I don't think the nurse realizes how important school is for Habtamu.  He takes school really seriously right now.  Maybe it's because of the attitude towards school in Ethiopia.  He was exposed to it in  his home village and at the care center, where the older kids were proud of the work they did at their "school,"  a small room with a chalkboard and words posted in Amharic and English.  We had to take him home early from school once last year, when he fell asleep in school.  He had a major meltdown and freaked out in the car on the way home, nearly throwing Lire's car seat at me.

On to religion.

Today in the tub, Lire said to me,

"Mommy, Chauncey is like a preese.  He protect us."

"The police?"

"No, a preese."

"A priest?"

"Yes!  A preest.  He protect us."

"Why, yes he is."

Already moving into the metaphysical, that Lire.

We've got some intense little guys here.  I feel like a lightweight, in comparison.  

And I'll prove it by mentioning how happy I am to finally get a new pair of eyeglasses and a haircut!  I'll post a picture, though it's a bit dark.  

So happy to talk to you again!  I'll try to post more regularly.  I have a book post for Mothertalk due soon, so I'll be on it.

cuteness personified.

Chauncey, our resident preese.

Superficial mom, making her picture smaller to fool you into thinking she is more humble than she really is.

something about weddings

Got this from Maia via Facebook -- I love hearing other people's wedding stories... share yours, or your dream wedding.  Both ladies and gents invited.


IF YOU'RE MARRIED, SHARE YOUR WEDDING DETAILS AND RELIVE YOUR MEMORIES AND IF YOU'RE ENGAGED/PLANNING A WEDDING, LET US KNOW WHAT THE PLANS ARE AND IF YOU'RE NOT WITH ANYONE JUST LET US KNOW WHAT YOUR DREAM WEDDING WILL BE THAT'S IN YOUR MIND....THIS ALSO INCLUDES QUESTIONS ABOUT YOUR OTHER HALF

1. Are you married? 
Yes ma'am!

2. Who did you marry? 
Alexander Rostislav Coulter. 

3. How long did you date? 
This is hard to piece together, since there were gaps in between. Basically, I fell for Alex upon meeting him. Really. We had a few one-nighters in college, but didn't ever date. After college we went on a cross-country adventure for three months, wherein I fell even harder. When we went our separate ways, I couldn't believe I was wrong about us. I was sure my instincts were right on. It took several years for me to find out I HAD been correct. In 1996, six years later, I hopped the Peter Pan to NYC to escape an ill-fated 3 month relationship with a very nice fellow. I called Al and asked if I could come and visit, and I was quite presumptuous and asked if he minded putting up my friend Dennis a day earlier (I can't believe my hutzpah!). We were together from that time on -- about 3 years before we married.

4. What is the age difference? 
I am 4 months older. He likes to say that I am an older woman.

5. When did you meet? 
Freshman year of college. We were both art majors, and our respective roommates were good friends. We had to meet.

6. When did you start dating? 
When we were both committed to the relationship -- April 4, 1996

7. When did you get engaged? 
Big Al asked me to marry him in August of 1998. 

8. How did you get engaged?
We were hiking in Canada -- Jasper, to be exact. The weather had been very uncooperative, drizzly and cold. We got to a camp site called "Surprise Point." We hiked out to the point after ditching our backpacks. There were loads of elk couples hanging out, too, chewing grass and watching us. He took a box out of his pocket, which freaked me out, I had no idea! He said, "Erin Frances O'Connor, will you marry me?" (correct me if I'm wrong, Al). Apparently I didn't say yes, I just screamed with joy, jumped on him and started to cry. I assumed he would interpret this as a yes, but later he insisted I say Yes, just to make sure. It was so very cold that I had trouble keeping the ring on my finger, it kept slipping off since my fingers shrank in the cold. I wouldn't take it off, however. So I wore gloves. We had a very dangerous leave-taking of our special place, since the rain turned into hail and a major storm. We accompanied a frightened solo camper from Montreal back to civilization, crossing a roaring stream over a slippery log that Alex positioned to get us over. He was very brave, as was I. Not so much the Montrealer, though.

9. When did you get married?
May 22, 1999. 

10. What time was the ceremony?
11:00 am

11. Who was your maid of honor?
Loretta Marie McNamee.

12. Who was the best man? 
Al's good buddy Keith Hwang.

13. Who were your other bridesmaids?
No bridesmaids. Just my 11 year old cousin Frances as the flower girl. She looked like Alice in Wonderland.

14. Who were the other groomsmen?
once again, no groomsmen. Our godson Austin was the ringbearer. He was adorable and four years old.

15. Who played the music at your wedding? 
Alex was a choir boy, so fellow choir singers sang at our wedding -- Jen, Dave, George, Matthew and 

16. Did you have a cd or did someone sing at your wedding? 
We had cds, but no one could hear them -- people wouldn't stop toasting, so the music kept having to be turned down. Eventually whoever was in charge of the cds just gave up.

17. What was your song & other songs in the ceremony? 
We didn't have a song! Aren't we lame? However, the best song was performed by our friend Jed Dodds -- he played "Amazing Grace" on the saw!

18. What were your wedding colors? 
I will echo Maia's Hahahaha -- our wedding wasn't like that, either. I told Loretta and Frances to wear whatever they wanted. Which they did.

19. Did you buy your wedding dress or did you have it made?
I bought it at a thrift store in Manhattan. It was beautiful designer number, old-fashiony, and still had the tags on it. A wedding that never happened? Or as the saleswoman said, some people buy TWO or more dresses and decide on the day of the wedding what to wear. What? This was an Upper East Side thrift, um, consignment, store.

20. About the veil? 
No veil. I wore a crown of flowers. Very hippy-like, I know. That's how I swung then.

21. What was your bouquet? 
Two calla lilies. Long and elegant. Unlike me.

22. Who officiated your wedding? 
A very lovely man named Reverend George Easton. He was a Protestant minister my mother found for us. She just walked up to his rectory and asked if he would marry us. Our issue was that I was raised Catholic, but fell off that wagon. Al was raised basically as an atheist, but sang in an Episcopal choir his whole childhood. I wanted to be married outside and the Catholic church does not allow it. I really wanted my uncle Marty the deacon to marry us, but as I wanted to be married outside, and as I disliked what I considered to be the hypocritical nature of the church, we went with a protestant. He did a great job.

23. Did you have a bridal shower? 
Yes. My aunt Maryanne had it at her place. Mostly family and my mom's friends. All of my good friends were participating in a mini-triathalon or something. We should have planned it better so they could have come. It was really uncomfortable for me at the beginning, but then everyone drank their mimosas and bloody marys and all was well. 

24. Where was your wedding?
Outside, at a place called the Inn at Chester. It was in the yard, next to a pond and a little shed in whose windowbox Alex planted a few pale yellow petunias. My mom talked the florist into letting us borrow their geraniums to line our "altar" which was just the grass, really. It was a beautiful day, and everything was lush and green and happy. Like us!

25. Where was your reception?
At the Inn itself. We had hors d'oeuvres out on the patio and then went inside for lunch. It was an odd set-up, because there was one large room (it used to be a barn), and three smaller rooms, one of which was on a loft over us in the large room, and another back room. I think it gave everyone a chance to connect at their respective tables. At least I hope so.

26. Where did you go for your honeymoon?
We delayed our honeymoon for a month, at which point we went to the south of France and Tuscany. Amazing time. I had been taking Italian in college, so I got to try it out.

27. Are you and your spouse still happily married and in love???
We are. I feel as excited and happy about this guy as I did in college. The difference is that I feel more confident in our love, and our relationship is deeper and stronger. But I still get all funny inside after I haven't seen him for a few days and I anticipate seeing him again. He's still got it! 

28. Were there any bloopers on your wedding day??? 
There was a gigantic snake slithering around the pond. Apparently he/she had just eaten a bullfrog or something -- its middle was decidedly larger than its ends. Someone took a picture for us, as we didn't see it in action. My parents' friend Scottie found a rake in the shed, picked it up and tossed it into the pond. Some said it was an ill omen, (the Catholics, no doubt!) while others said it was a fertility symbol. Neither were correct. It was just a sated snake.

29. Did you dance at your wedding?
No dancing! I told you about the music debacle. Lots of chatting and toasting, which was fine with us.

30. Where did you stay on wedding night?
We stayed at the Inn itself. 

I only have a few pictures on file of that day -- it was early in the digital age, so my friend Dennis has them all. Go to his website, btw -- dennisdrenner.com. He still does weddings (he's great) and is located in the DC/Baltimore area.