No guilt.

Posted in life on February 7, 2011 by FiftyBogue

I’m not much of a blogger lately, am I? I just renewed my WordPress account and my domain, in case I feel like blogging more in the future. I enjoyed it immensely when I had more time for it, but lately, life has been too full to sit down and write about it.

Ironic, as that’s exactly when there’s more to say.

So, I’m going to continue my blogging hiatus, but keep FiftyBogue and return to writing more regularly as time allows and the spirit moves me.

Hopefully before I need to register SIXTYBogue!

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The Dress Not Taken

Posted in life, wedding on March 22, 2010 by FiftyBogue

(Look at me blogging again…! For my Facebook friends, this is from my blog is at www.fiftybogue.com.)

Not since the age of 3, when I paraded around the house sporting a dress made of old ruffly white curtains, have I entertained the idea of wearing a traditional wedding gown.  I just never saw myself as a traditional bride in any way – and even less now that I’m a plump, 52-year-old bride. I always said that when the time came, I’d “buy the prettiest dress I could find” and have done with it.

OK, so that day came in January and I was at a loss as to how to begin.  I went to a place that specializes in high-end plus-size clothing and formal wear and took my good friend Val with me.  Of course, there was the obligatory foundation garments to navigate first (the bustier makes the dress – you know that, right?), and then we started trying to figure out what kind of bride I would be.  I started trying stuff on and she snapped some pictures so we could look later. That day, I tried on a pretty green gown,  a navy gown and some others that just didn’t seem “bridal.” I looked a whole lot more like a mother-of-the-bride than the bride. I decided to try on an actual wedding dress just for shits and grins – when else would I ever…? and that $1500 duponi silk dress was GORGEOUS.  I learned the meaning of the word “ruching” that day and why I love it.

After lunch we went to McBridal, uh, I mean David’s Bridal. I meant to mostly look at bridesmaid separates there, since I didn’t want a traditional dress, but totally fell into the estrogen pool that is David’s on a Saturday afternoon. I found myself trying on about 10 wedding gowns and even a veil or two, for crying out loud.  For those of you who haven’t spent time at David’s, there are dressing rooms enough for maybe 15-20 brides, each bride gets her own modeling pedestal, and when a girl finds “the dress” they ring a bell and everyone squeals and claps.  It was sort of an alien environment for me.

I enjoyed playing around with the white dresses, but still didn’t think it was “me.” The bridesmaid separates weren’t really working either, though. They were much less expensive and you could customize the pieces and order whatever color you want, but you had to try on whatever colors were available on the rack in your size.  At one point, I was in a hideous combination of brown skirt and orange top, and Val says, “Hey – ring the bell!” I would have LOVED to upset all the women in the room that way, but couldn’t quite bring myself to do it.

When I got home and printed out the pictures, I showed them to Bruce (yeah, that’s right – I don’t have that superstition). When he saw me in the traditional dresses he stopped and said, “Huh” and kept looking at them. I asked, “Are you thinking I should go with a traditional dress?!” and he said, “Well, they do look the best.”

OK, so that sent me off on a strange journey, questioning my identity, how I feel about traditional wedding stuff, etc. etc. I had already found out that Bruce was tending to be a little more traditional about the wedding than me – he was thinking aisle, tuxedo, string quartet, etc. And I was fine with that.  But a big, white dress?! This was mitigated by one fact: so far, the traditional gowns DID look the best on me.  They were also way more expensive, had to be ordered, were less comfortable, and needed to have their trains cut off or they’d be impossible to dance in. Plus they weren’t really “ME.”  But what was?

I had 4 more outings to traditional wedding shops (one visit involved some merciless corset lacing)  and also looked online and did a lot of research on what was available. At some point, I went back to the first shop and found that they had the navy dress from the first day on the rack in my size in GOLD, and that became a strong contender.

In the end, it came down to a lovely $600 ivory wedding gown with a gorgeous, V-backed lace bodice or the gold dress. And guess what? Bruce like the gold dress best, although I was still waffling! In the end, practicality ruled. The gold dress was available off-the-rack (no 12-week waiting period) and was only $300. It’s danceable,  can actually be worn again for special occasions and doesn’t need a lot of alteration, plus I get to buy gold shoes.

And it’s more “me” – although I no longer really know what that means.

Here’s a picture of the dress I didn’t buy.  No – you don’t get to see the one I’ll be married in. Yet.

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It’s time I wrote more…

Posted in life, wedding on March 21, 2010 by FiftyBogue

After all, there’s a lot going on.

I’m getting married in June. The wedding planning proceeds apace. I have a beautiful dress (although it’s not altered yet), I’ve bought 7 pairs of shoes online that I need to choose among, we have a caterer (although we haven’t signed the contract), we have a hall, a minister (Bruce’s brother), a band, a caller and a photographer.  We’ve sent our save-the-date cards and registered and I’m about to start on the invitations.  I have two showers coming up, and it’s almost spring.

Bruce is finally getting around to his wedding tasks: buying a suit and getting the bathroom remodeled.  He’s found someone to work on the bathroom and he’s thinking real hard about suits.

So all is well.

Well, all that is, except that work has been stressful, it just KEEPS SNOWING and I had to have some minor surgery last week that sort of kicked my ass.

But, it’s interesting.  I’ve always wanted to be married. I never really got rid of the girlhood fairy tale dream scenario. At 52, it is understandably a little battered and worn, and much altered.  But I do feel like my dreams are coming true.  It’s also challenging – getting married and being married aren’t easy. And joining Bruce’s household, which includes his 90-year-old parents, will be challenging and rewarding. It’s going to be an interesting new reality.

My future is finally starting, I guess…

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Pretending

Posted in life on December 30, 2009 by FiftyBogue

I haven’t posted here for almost a year!  And so much has happened!  I’m not ready to give up the blog just yet, so I’m going to pretend I’m a blogger for a while longer.  Maybe my Facebook status is enough for me…? I should have more to say than that  – I’ve been abroad, I’m planning my wedding…

I’m going to try and start posting again after the New Year. If I don’t improve soon, I”ll give it up.

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Gardening: not so much…

Posted in life, sustainability on January 28, 2009 by FiftyBogue

I now know that I’m not really cut out to be a gardener – at least not yet. Avid gardeners are pouring over their seed catalogs right now and jonesing for spring so they can dig in the dirt. I, on the other hand, didn’t even look at the Burpee catalog that came last week before recycling it. I really haven’t recovered from our gardening debacle of last summer.

B. and I finally aired our differences about gardening – which are many – but agreed on a few things:

  1. It’s a lot of work
  2. We didn’t have a lot to show for it
  3. We didn’t enjoy it very much
  4. I didn’t do enough of the work
  5. We like to eat fresh vegetables
  6. It would be a shame for the new fence to go to waste

So. Here’s the compromise:
B. is going to plant a few tomato plants in a very sunny spot in the yard. I am going to do a little bit (probably a very little bit) of reading about no-till gardening, pick my gardening friends’ brains, and try a “pilot” no-till plot this summer. I’ll probably plant 4 things, and I’m hoping to prove to B. that no-till is less labor-intensive than what we did last year.

But I’m tired just thinkin’ about it.

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Whew!

Posted in life on January 14, 2009 by FiftyBogue

I can’t believe it’s mid-January. I’m such a lame blogger…

LOTS of things have happened since my last post.

B. and I went to Savannah, Georgia for a vacation. Savannah is such a beautiful place. November or December is a great time to go there because it’s still pretty warm and there are few tourists. The whole historic district is very walker-friendly, with a historic square every other block, and beautifully restored mansions everywhere. Our hotel, Planter’s Inn, faced Reynolds Square, and was really lovely – wine and cheese every evening, wonderful staff, nice breakfast, only 2 blocks from the river – and a real bargain that time of year. Our first evening there, the annual Christmas parade of lights passed by right in front of the hotel! We had amazing food, and we didn’t even go to Paula Deen’s restaurant. We did, however, go to Mrs. Wilkes Boarding House for lunch and sat down to a table laden with 23 delicious low county dishes! 380743-r1-044-20a_017

Tybee Island is Savannah’s beach – a barrier island about 17 miles from the historic district. It’s a sweet little town in its own right, with some great restaurants (the Sundae Café, the Crab Shack and the Breakfast Club are not to be missed), a beautiful lighthouse and a couple of forts worth seeing. Our first night, we walked on the beach at twilight and were awestruck by the plethora of jumping dolphins and swooping pelicans. We also took a day trip to Charleston, and took harbor tour and saw Fort Sumter.

B. and I both got sick the morning after we got home. I had the stomach flu plus a respiratory infection, and B. just got the respiratory part. It was a misery. We survived. Enough said about that. We were well in time to decorate for the holidays and to finish Christmas shopping.

However…

My cat Grace had surgery on Christmas eve, effectively canceling my holiday plans. She ate sewing thread and some of it got wrapped around her tongue. Of course, I had no idea that’s what had happened… While I was wrapping presents on the 23rd she started vomiting and yowling, but, you know… cats do that, so I wasn’t too alarmed. The next day she was acting strange, but I poked her stomach and looked her over good and she didn’t seem like she had any pain, so I decided she had a big hairball, and went to work. On the way home, I went to PetsMart and got her some hairball treats, but when I got home, she was still not herself and wouldn’t eat them. I still wasn’t too alarmed, but since I was leaving town the next morning, I called my vet, but they were getting ready to close and wouldn’t be open until the 26th. I went back to PetsMart to get some hairball ointment, and saw that their vet clinic was still open. I talked to them, then went home and got Grace and brought her in, still thinking I was overreacting. The vet found the thread, clipped it and tried to pull it out, but she had swallowed too much and it wouldn’t come. They did an x-ray to see if there was a needle and found out that her intestines were getting bunched up around the thread, and that’s when they said she’d have to have surgery. Christmas: cancelled. I was feeling pretty blessed that things worked out the way they did – that I’d brought her in, that they’d got her in time – but it was all such a bummer. They had to keep poor Grace overnight and then the following morning she was in surgery for quite a while. In the meantime prepared for a couple of days by myself with a sick cat: I got a carry-out turkey dinner and made sure I had plenty of DVDs. I gave B. the presents for his family and kissed him goodbye and he went off to celebrate the holiday without me.

I brought Grace home at 4:00 on Christmas eve, strung out on anesthesia, no bladder control, a 4-inch incision on her belly, weak and confused and startling at every noise. She was supposed to wear a cone, but I took that off, seeing she was too nuts to bother her incision and hoping to give her some relief. I just held her in my lap for the first few hours. She wouldn’t eat that night, and on Christmas day she’d only lick a little food from my fingers – not more than a few teaspoons all day. The vet hadn’t been able to get all the thread from her esophagus, plus her stomach tissue hadn’t looked good in surgery, so she had said Grace still wasn’t out of the woods. I took her back to the clinic first thing the morning of the 26th and she had a fever and the vet (a substitute) was quite concerned about her not eating and said that they might have to open her up again. I took her home and coaxed her to eat all day, without much success. I was really upset. I was prepared for them to say she’d have to have more surgery when I took her back the next morning.img_0020

I know it’s not right to have favorites, and I’m not one to treat a pet like a child, but I love this cat more than all my previous pets combined, and although other people believe that they have the greatest cat, they’re wrong, because mine’s the best, and you’d agree if you met her.

When I took her the next day, the regular vet was back, and she seemed less concerned and decided to do some blood tests. They all came back normal, and her fever was down, so I took her home – no more surgery! Later that day, she started eating, and a couple of days later she pooped, and it’s been all uphill since then. She’s not a conehead any more, and although her belly is still shaved, she’s once again galloping around the apartment and acting like herself again. And I have a new vet! God bless those people! Your lesson from this long tale: KEEP YOUR PETS AWAY FROM “LINEAR FOREIGN BODIES!”

A late (tense) Christmas happened. You know that very bad day when Grace was really sick, December 26, described above? Well, I managed to dry my tears long enough to have a little Christmas with B. I got some lovely gifts, and enjoyed watching him open my gifts. But, you know… Not the best Christmas ever.

New Years Eve was fun though. Grace was better by then, and we had some friends in from out of town and I spent a couple of days playing tourist in my own town, which is always fun. A very laid back time with some great folks! And then we danced in the New Year.

I went back to work at some point and am still trying to get up to speed. I’m sure I will soon.

My 51st birthday. 50 was a great year – wonderful parties (see last year’s posts), two great trips, our engagement. 51 is off to a great start too. I had a relaxing day with B. on Sunday, dinner with his parents, and I plan to take a four day weekend this coming weekend and do some relaxing, girly stuff – pedicure (of course), massage, sewing, movies, and the like. Ahhh…. I am NOT changing the name of the blog to “Fiftyonebogue.com” though…

I know this should have been, like, five shorter posts, but it is what it is. I’ll try and do better.

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We are engaged.

Posted in contra dancing, life on November 26, 2008 by FiftyBogue

B. and I got engaged over the weekend. We’ve been together for almost 6 years, and we’d started talking about getting engaged a few weeks ago, after I told him that the “boyfriend” nomenclature wasn’t really doing it for me anymore, that I like diamonds and that I don’t mind a long engagement. It seemed like time to get our intentions out in the open. He agreed, saying that it was time to “tidy it up.” So I didn’t know what he had in mind, if anything, but he loves to surprise me.

Good things always happen to me at dances. B. and I met at a dance. And that’s where he decided to propose.

Saturday night, at our regular midtown contra dance, the caller announced it was time for the half-time waltz before the break. I started looking around for B., and didn’t see him at first. Then I realized that he was up on the riser with the band, wearing the caller’s head mic. I swear, I can’t tell you exactly what he said, but it was something like, “I have something I want to say to a special lady. Laura, will you come up to the stage, please?” Again, I really have no earthly idea what else he said, but I heard, “Will you marry me?” (I hear one of our friends has it on video, so I’ll have to refresh my memory.) I think I said yes, or at least nodded vigorously, and he stepped down (or was he already down?) and slipped a ring on my finger.

As if that wasn’t enough, he had asked the band (one of my favorite duos) to play my favorite waltz, “Two Rivers” so then we waltzed! Everyone else started waltzing too, floating by us, wishing us well.

That’s the story. VERY romantic, don’t you think? We were surrounded by friends during the break, then danced a little more, then I slipped away to call a couple of people. We went out for a drink with the dance group later and had a marvelous time, then went home and talked about it all until 3 AM.

A truly stellar day! A great moment in my life! A completely awesome fiance!

And no, no wedding plans for the immediate future – we’ll keep you posted.

ADDENDUM: November 29, 2008 – B.’S VERSION
I asked B. to fill in the blanks of the proposal, since I was fuzzy on the details, and here’s what he told me:

What he said from the stage was, “May I have your attention? I’d like to dedicate this waltz to a special lady – on one condition. Laura would you come up to the stage please?” He said he enjoyed the puzzled look on my face. He said he stepped down from the riser to meet me, then took my left hand, then my right, kissed my left hand and said, “Will you marry me?” After I said yes, he said, “I believe it’s customary to seal the deal with a bauble.” He took off the microphone, then feigned not being able to find the ring, patting all of his pockets, then pulled the ring out of his pants pocket. He showed the ring to the crowd, but kept it hidden from me. He slid the ring onto my finger, still hidden, then pulled his hand away so I could see it, then kissed me. Then we waltzed.

ALSO – We’ve seen the video our friend shot that night, which has the very tale end of the proposal – the ring part – and the entire waltz – it’s really fun to watch, especially seeing our friends’ reactions. I certainly didn’t see that the first time around, since I was only looking at B.!

This is one story that doesn’t suffer at all from too many details. It just gets better…

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