Category Archives: Love and marriage

It began with a park, two dogs & a pile of poop.

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Toby and me in a photo Ed took in February 2006, six months after Ed and I met. We wouldn’t start dating until July, but clearly, I already very much liked him.

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Ed and me in a self-portrait taken in July 2006 with Ed’s cell phone. We’d been dating for about four weeks. We would be married less than nine months later.

Five years ago today, I met Ed.

As you may recall, our meeting involved a park, two dogs and a pile of poop.

I never found the pile of Toby’s poop I went searching for after Ed offered me a bag with which to pick it up.

But I did find in Ed a best friend and my husband.

I still feel a little bad about the poop. However, Iโ€™d like to think whoever might have stepped in it would consider the trade of his or her clean shoe for our found love a good one.

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Flashback Friday: Summer of 2005

In the summer of 2005, shortly after we started dating, Ed surprised me with the one miniature rose that bloomed in his yard. (I didn’t even know he HAD rose bushes.) When I came home yesterday, I photographed these. The roses are actually about the size of a quarter. (The pink rose is a little smaller.)

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There hadn’t been any roses since 2005, the last year Ed was single. And this year there were two… symbolic, somehow.

“I Do” — Wedding Stories

About three weeks ago, on our second anniversary, I told you How I Met My Honey. So many people participated, and I had a lot of fun. I hope you did, too. ๐Ÿ™‚ (And it’s not too late to link in. Have I mentioned I love these stories?)

Today, we’re sharing wedding stories. You don’t have to tell a story about YOUR wedding. You can tell the story about any wedding you’ve been to, been in — or worn a butt bow in. ๐Ÿ™‚

After you’ve written your stories, don’t forget to sign the Mister Linky and link to your actual post, not to the main page of your blog. (If you’re not sure how to do that, click here.)

Enough of the details. Now to the stories.

In the words of Sophia Petrillo, picture it, northern Georgia, April 2006.

My friend Leslie, my matron of honor, spent the night before the wedding with me, at my parent’s house. Her husband stayed at the hotel with their three kids. My husband-to-be stayed at the same hotel with his sister, brother-in-law, mother, and our dogs.

The morning of the wedding, I snuck out of bed about 7:30 a.m. and left Leslie to catch a bit more sleep. I visited with my family for awhile, ate a little breakfast, took a shower and shaved my legs, etc. At the hotel, Ed ate breakfast with his mother and Bryan and the kids and then they walked the dogs. Ed enjoyed the morning, and I was glad he got to spend some time with them. ๐Ÿ™‚

Meanwhile, my friends Mike and Christie had arrived at my parent’s house. Christie had graciously volunteered to do my hair. When they arrived, I asked Mike and Christie if they could give us a ride the short distance from the church to the reception. Mike ended up WASHING HIS CAR in my parent’s driveway. I’m sure it wasn’t dirty, but it was so sweet of him to wash it.

Christie worked on my hair, my sister and Leslie worked on getting ready, Mike came in and out. My dad came in and out to see how we were doing and kept reminding us of stuff we needed to do and our time line for doing it. ๐Ÿ™‚

We finally got to the church — and more or less on time — around noon. The wedding was scheduled for 2 p.m.

Now the real fun began.

I put on my dress.

Put on my lipstick.

Had Christie help me with my veil. (From here on, you can click on the image and go to my Flickr page.)

Had some photos taken (Ed, too).

Waited.

Finally, it was time for the wedding. Or, it was past time, actually. (See the clock?)

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By the way, the little person at the bottom of the photo is Sarah, Leslie’s daughter. It was past her nap time. She wanted no part of sitting with Daddy after she walked down the aisle with Leslie and her brothers, so Leslie held her. It was all good. ๐Ÿ™‚

My dad, a pastor, walked me down the aisle.

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Then he performed the wedding ceremony.

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Scriptures were read.

A hymn, “Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee,” was sung.

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Vows were said.

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Rings were finally exchanged after Dad dropped them. Twice.

I sang “How Beautiful,” by Twila Paris.

My friend Bryan said an awesome prayer for us. Many of our friends came and lay hands on us. Ben, Bryan and Leslie’s second oldest, rubbed my arm through out the prayer (so sweet!).

Dad pronounced us man and wife.

We kissed. (Swoon…)

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A million pictures were taken.

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We went to the reception.

Cut the cake.

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Drank a toast of sparkling grape juice. Visited with friends and family.

Left to a shower of rose petals.

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Walked our dogs to the park. (You may remember we met because of the dogs.)

We swung.

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We went down the slide.

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We walked through town.

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We sat in the gazebo.

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We continued walking to the bed and breakfast where we were going to spend the first two nights of our marriage.

Happily ever after...

Our photographer took this final photo.

At the Tumlin House

And we lived happily ever after. Or at least most of the time. ๐Ÿ™‚

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Phew! That was quite a story. And that was the short version. Please, if you have time, click on the links, especially those that link to photos. And if you want to see LOTS MORE wedding photos, click here. They’re not in order, for some reason, but you’ll get the idea. And I love them all. And I wish I could have shared them all. Sigh… All photos are courtesy PKE Photo Group.

Now I want to hear your story. Bring it on! ๐Ÿ™‚

Swoon…

I wrote my How I Met My Honey post yesterday, and now I’m feeling all swooney and lovey and sentimental. While writing, I looked through some photos from when we were dating. Such a fun sentimental journey. Here are a couple of those shots.

From left to right: us; my crazy hair after going down a spiral slide; our family (minus our cats) — Ed was playing Santa Paws and did something to make the photo a cartoon. I can’t wait for tomorrow! ๐Ÿ™‚

Squabble with your spouse — it’s good for you.

And it may make you live longer. (So you can look forward toย squabbling with your spouse for many more years…)

I’m not making this up. See. It says so right here.

Isn’tย it common sense that bottling up feelings/anger/irritation would cause bad things do happen to a person’s innards? It should also be common sense that a person should share those feelings/that anger/those irritations constructively.

Sharing my feelings isn’t a problem usually. But doing it constructively? That’s often the hard part.