Posted in Uncategorized

Not long now, B’wana.

Okay. Here I am, the Mother of the Groom — in three more days! It’s hard to believe it’s really upon us. I’d have to say all the preps are done. Favors; music, seating arrangements, programs, fittings, manicures, pedicures, and hair appointments. The first of the out-of-town guests have arrived (from California). More are heading in tomorrow.

The bride and groom are at their respective homes now just waiting for the big day. I think it’s safe to say that the bride has more on her mind right now than the groom. I can say that because I’m the MOG. He’s here. His buddies are around. They’re laughing, talking, kidding around, knowing that all they really have to do is show up in good form. The bride, on the other hand, is exhausted, not eating, not sleeping. The MOB is, too, but she’s more worried about her daughter than herself. She’s been through this many years ago, and she knows how it ends:   Everyone has a great time, no one is aware of any glitches, and the party is talked about for months.

But the weather is not cooperating for the rehearsal dinner cookout. No one probably cares except me, and intellectually I know it’ll work out no matter how we do it. But I have a vision of how I’d like it to be, and I’m not sure Mother Nature is aware of my wishes. If she is, she’s stringing me along in hopeful disbelief as I watch our tv weathermen try and predict guess the weather two evenings from now. I’m convinced these meterologists are not aware this is Michigan, where weather cannot be forecast. The Great Lakes belly-laugh at “doppler radar” and “zone forecasts,” knowing full well they can influence just about anything that comes our way. I think I should just stop looking at tv and accept the fact that there are simply some things I have no control over.

I’ll again live by my motto: Make a plan, but don’t plan on it!

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