One year ago I was spending much of my free time with a rake in my hand, covered in dust, with a growing to-do list shoved in the back pocket of my blue jeans. I wasn’t sleeping very well at night. I wasn’t fully awake during the day. And even though my wedding was still 19 days away, I had gradually been packing my honeymoon suitcase for about two weeks already.
The wedding site was coming along, but we still had a long way to go. The hundred year old milking barn was now free from the piles of hay and cow manure, but the decomposed granite floor still needed to be compacted and the dance floor still needed to be built and stained. The guys were trying to make sure we could get electricity to my home-made chandelier and I was eating granola bars and drinking Coke to keep myself from passing out. I was still trying to write my vows during any spare moment I could find and putting myself through grueling, sweaty Insanity workouts every other day to make sure that on my wedding day, my bum felt like steel.
Honestly, when I look back at the month leading up to my wedding I can’t help but laugh at myself. I was on overdrive and it’s a miracle I didn’t crash and burn before the big day arrived. Everything about my wedding was DIY since we chose to get married in a field that cows grazed in, on a ranch that had never hosted any kind of event before, and we wanted to party in a barn that had sharp objects hanging from the ceiling above the dead rats and a big ‘ol mess. There really should have been TV cameras there to capture the Extreme Wedding Makeover.
BUT, it all worked out. Everything looked great and the Lord gave us 85 and sunshine after a week of overcast skies and temps in the 60s. And I married Jon. Bliss.
More wedding reminiscing to come, I’m sure…