But first, this message from our imaginary peanut gallery:



Sunday, June 15: Father's Day. I served him.

Monday, June 16: Cakers the Flower Girl needs shoes for the wedding. The bride expressed preference for brown Maryjanes, but also was clear that anything but flip-slops would be fine.

I was soon to learn that when it comes to finding girls' dress shoes in a size 2, in the summer anything but flip-flops can mean nothing at all.

First, let me say, my daughter has bricks-for-feet. And it's not so much that her feet are big, as it is her feet don't fit the current definition of any shoe size, within the 1.5 to 2.5 range.

That first time out we went to two bridal shops and five shoe shops. Nada. Shoes that fit in length pinched in width. Shoes that didn't pinch, flopped off the heel. Three or four pairs into this exercise, I could recognize within two or three steps into the try-on, that the shoe didn't fit.

By the last stop of the day, I could recognize the futility before we even got out of the car.

After dinner that evening, Not-The-Cabana and I flew recon over a few more shoe stores, sans The Cakers, to narrow down the field for when I would have to drag her out again. Again, we found nothing.

Tuesday, June 17:
Allison Krauss and Robert Plant concert at the Fox Theatre in Detroit.

Yeah.

Not-The-Cabana had bought these tickets months ago. We have the CD and it is currently our favorite listen. But between all the wedding busyness, Not-the-Cabana's new job and the thought of a six-hour round trip on a weekday night, I didn't wanna go. And even though I didn't say anything to him about it, (because he was the one who had worked all day and would do the same the next day) I whined about it all day, in my head.

But damn, I'm glad I went.
What an amazing thing, it was.

I cannot do it justice with words, so I won't even try. Well, Except to say that music and artistry such as what I experienced that evening, reaffirms my belief in God, because there can be no other explanation for that level of soul-enhancing beauty.

And I need to tell you about the warm-up act: Sharon Little. Not only an amazing voice and accompanying sass, she sexed this black and red flouncey skirt like nobody's biz. Four months ago she was a waitress. Now she's released a CD and is on tour with Robert Plant and Allison Krauss. We bought her CD. It's good.

Wednesday, June 18:
Cakers' flower girl dress needed some alterations, but I had been holding off until we found shoes. With the clock ticking, we needed to get her done, and told the tailor to set the hem length at "bareboot." When he asked about the shoe height I told him we couldn't find any shoes and were planning on painting her feet bronze for the wedding. He didn't laugh. He didn't speak English very well, so maybe he didn't get it.

Anyway. After the fitting, we went out again, for some shoes. This time we stopped at Shoe carnival, where the only pair of shoes that fit her had a 2 inch heel. They looked like hooker shoes. She loved them, of course. I said "no" and the foot paint idea was sounding more and more reasonable.

At shoe Carnival I did find a pair of running shoes for me, so it wasn't a complete loss.

Once home, I started to panic on the shoe issue. Through the yellow pages I followed up on a couple of leads I had received from a neighbor, who had to outfit both of her young daughters as flower girls, last summer.

One of those stores, I learned, had closed but still operated on line, so I took a look. I found a couple pairs of shoes that looked good, but without trying them on, it was a crap shoot. I called anyway. She told me that they had them in stock, so I ordered the shoe in two sizes. Then she tells me it will take a week for them to get to me. Because she had to order them from the supplier. I thought they were in stock? I asked. Well, the supplier had them in stock, in Maryland. That was one hour of shoe shopping time I'll never get back.

I also called the local dance supply shop, in search of some nice, flexible leather ballet slippers I could have dyed off-white or brown. They only had black and pink. And they were currently the only dance shop in town.

The ballet slipper idea had been my last resort option and having just played it, I was starting to feel pretty hopeless. A quick google lead me to a dance supplier on line, who was selling gold leather ballet slippers at half price. I ordered two pair in different sizes, as a back up plan, with the intention of continuing the search in real life. Without her trying the shoes on, I was not getting my hopes up anyway.

Thursday, June 19:
Ran laundry and packed for the family for a long weekend at the cottage.

Friday-Sunday, June 20-22:
Cottage.

Monday, June 21:
Went to another bridal shop, T.J. Maxx and Nordstrom Wrack to continue the search for shoes. I left the bridal shop very discouraged after three different sizes of ballet slippers didn't fit (remember, I have some coming in the mail, on the wings of low expectations).

Nordstrom had about six pairs that would be perfect, but not in her size.
I was suddenly feeling beaten down. And poor Cakers...Not a word of complaint, either. She actually got pretty good at the convict shuffle (walking in shoes tied together.)

One last stop at an uppity shoe shop was a bust, as well. I was even prepared to buy to a pair of leopard print gold shimmer ballet style shoes, but they were out of her size.

Tuesday, June 22:
My sister, and mother of the bride, called to tell me that she found a pair of shoes at Target, for Cakers. The bride had found another pair at another store and all were at her house. After dinner we headed over there to try them on. One pair was too small, the other would fit with a pair of socks. We took them. They weren't perfect, but would get her through the day.

Wednesday, June 23:
The ballet slippers I ordered online showed up with the mail and one pair fit perfect. One day ago I had no shoes, today we had two viable pair. Life is good. With the shoe situation now taken care of, the next order of the day is a dress for me. While looking in my closet, I spy some fabric and patterns on a shelf. And for the next two hours my plan is to sew a dress. For the wedding. In three days.

And I'm dead serious. It's a genetic thing, I tell you. When under stress, add some more, by choice. After I confirm that I have enough fabric and pull out the instructions to double check the swift doability factor, I realize that the fabric is too sheer for a dress.

I have to admit, I was more than a little relieved. Genetic coding can be a bitch.

We have to pick up Cakers' dress from the tailor and am meeting my mother-in-law there, so she can take Cakers for the afternoon.

The dress is perfect, and now I'm off to buy one for me. But first I have to return my running shoes to Carnival, because the top of the toe ripped away from the shoe last time I put them on. Unfortunately they don't have another pair in my size, and I don't have time to try on a new style. ::For the record, when it comes to me and running shoes, I gots Cakers feet.:: The clerk calls the other store on the other side of town and they put a pair on hold for me. Erg.

I had a pretty successful dress run at T.J. Max, and actually found two that would do, so bought them both.

Thursday, June 26:
Drive across town to pick up replacement shoes from Carnival and a prescription from the doctor's office. About 3:00 in the afternoon I'm back home and get a surprise visit from my brother who lives in California. He's in town for the wedding and I haven't seen him since Uncle P00t's funeral, three years ago. ::Uncle P00t lives to this day. It's a miracle.:: It was great to see him, but the house was a mess and the dog had just sprayed diarreah on the carpet, so I was more than a little stressed. Then my other brother stops by because he saw my first brother's car in the drive. At 5:00 I have a cut and color, so make my apologies and leave.

At my hair appointment I get ideas from my stylist for hair adornments for Cakers' appointment on the day of the wedding. Instead of going to Michael's to follow up on her recommendations, I stop at Rite-Aid for wine ::They close at 8:00. Inside joke.::
and go home. I'll get the hair stuff, tomorrow, because I know just what I need.

Friday, June 27:
I need shoes and Cakers needs hair adornments, so we head out after lunch. I find shoes at Talbots in less than five minutes, so am feeling confident that the rest of the afternoon will go as well, so I kind of put off going to Michael's until a little later.

Once at Michaels's, I cannot find the item my stylist told me to get. Rhinestone hair applique stick-on thingies. Evidently the store is preparing to relocate and many shelves are bare. I can't find a person to help me. When I finally find one, she tells me it is her first day. She knows nothing. I ask another clerk, who also is new.

After 45 minutes of searching the aisles, I ask for a manager, who tells me they are all out of the item I seek. She tells me to try David's Bridal. By now it's 3:30. Rehearsal is at 5:30. And we all need showers. I buy a rhinestone headband and head home. Then I worry that the headband will hurt her head ::She has big noggin too.:: so turn around and head to David's Bridal for rhinestone hair pins. Not stickers.

We make it home just in time to get clean and dressed and to the church on time.

The wedding is being held at the same 120 year-old chapel where I last got married. I haven't been in it since my wedding almost nine years ago, and was very surprised to find myself tearing up upon entering, and almost all the way through the rehearsal.

Between the rehearsal and dinner, we didn't get home until 10:00.

I took this picture at the rehearsal, and made it into a wedding card for the couple.



Saturday, June 28:
Cakers is up at 7:30. I send her back to bed, then go lay down with her. The wedding is at 4:00, with pictures at 2:00.

Cakers' hair appointment is at 1:00, with permission from the bride to be a little late.

The wedding, of course, is beautiful.
My Cakers almost stole the show with her somber professionalism.







Of course I have a gazillion more pictures, but probably only of interest to family, at this point.

Sunday, June 29:
My niece is throwing a birthday party for her one year-old daughter. I'm totally peopled/family/talked out, and I don't wanna go. But I gotta go. But I'm going to be late. On purpose.

As a stress reliever, I clean the nearly empty refrigerator. ::That genetic thing again::

At 3:00, I'm about ready to leave for the party and my California brother stops by again, 3 hours earlier than previously arranged. I'm much later to the party than I had originally planned and had to buy a gift from the neighorhood drug store.

I'm more than 1.5 hours late for the party, but still get in my fair share of cake and talking small to a fresh set of relatives.

Monday, June 30:
I sit and stare at the wall for hours, and find myself wondering what Skip and B.J. are up to.

And I finished a pair of socks.



Goodnight June.

P.S. I wrote this between laundry and packing for a long weekend at the cottage, starting this afternoon. I'm not checking much for grammos or typos. Oh-no.