A Vintage, DIY Wedding

I am flat - out exhausted, physically and emotionally.

My sister got married this weekend, and it was a DIY wedding.... and we DIY'd all of it - except the cake. Someone else did that.

First of all, the lovely bride:

I bought these brown paper bags on eBay and Mom found the stamps. These were for the candy favors. They will be for sale in my Etsy shop soon, because we made waaaaay too many.

 A little before of the reception hall: the flourecent lights were covered with tulle and Christmas lights. My sister wanted a soft candlelight look. Right here I have to say: While my sister, my mom an d I hatched all the ideas amongst ourselves and were heavily inspired by Pinterest, the work was carried out by our friend Faith Freeman and her daughters Joanna and Alice. Mom and I lent our help mostly in the evenings; but the bulk of what was done took two and a half days and was done almost exclusively by these lovely ladies. And my husband, who did the heavy lifting and moving, and was go-fer boy. :)

 Aaaaand my buffet. Purchased at Goodwill in really awful condition. I've been sanding and stripping and painting and babying this thing since Christmas.... I'll do a detailed before and after soon.

 Of course, with a sister that sells burlap bunting banners for a part time gig, she wanted to use banners in her decor. We also made burlap table runners.

She came to my house and said "I like this, and that, and that, and also this", and pointed to everything she wanted in the wedding, and we packed it up and used it. Including the tree slices. We had fallen a large dying tree in the yard and so we used slices of the branches as pie and food stands. Almost everything used as decor for the wedding was mine... she wanted to use vintage things instead of lots of flower arrangements.

Doors was one of the first things my sister decided she wanted for the wedding. We had some doors, of course, but our friend Daniel works on a construction crew in Northern VA that removes asbestos from old historic buildings and remodels them; so he had access to all the doors we wanted. He drought down a load, and he and my husband put several sets together.

My husband also made the trees, which was my idea .... that I almost regretted because it was one of the most difficult things we did. We screwed pieces of wood to the bottoms of carefully sculpted tree branches and placed them in burlap bags filled with gravel. Mrs. Freeman and her team strung them with lights. 

  One of the trees was designated as a "Wish Tree"... also my idea. (I got the inspiration from a smaller wish tree thing I saw on Pinterest. But ours was bigger.) Instead of a guest book, people wrote a message on a tag and tied it to the branches. Later, we removed the cards and put them in a pretty box for her to look at later.  The small stable next to the tree is something from my house as well...

Several tables had lights underneath, so the appeared to glow.  It was awesome.

We used doors in the corners, to give the rather hum drum room the feeling that it was a older space.

 My old suitcases were made into a gift card box.... the photo is of my great grandmother Sophie Rose Kelly, whom my sister is named for. The mini banner is one I sell in my shop.

 Years ago I had bought hundreds of white hankys at an auction - and never did anything with them. Mrs. Freeman draped them over the backs of the chairs and taped them in place - it was a genius plan!

This set of doors blocked the closet door and the tree behind it was just an awesome touch as well. It covered up the fire extinguisher. :)

 The cake table.... and banners from my shop. Every window in the place had Christmas lights in them, and the effect was AMAZING.

 The candy buffet..... the glass candy jars are from my friend Sally, with the antique shop. I have wanted to do a candy buffet for years and finally did it!!!

I don't think I have enough sisters to have weddings for me to do ALL the ideas I have. I guess if I wanted to act on all my wedding ideas, I'd have to become a wedding decorator.

I have about 100 gallon size pickle jars in an old barn on our farm. We cleaned some of them up and put sand in the bottom, and a candle, and put them all over the back deck ovelooking the lake, and lined both sides of the sidewalk leading into the building. It was fantastic.

Here is what the Wish Tree looked like at the end of the evening.


Ok that's a lot of photos, so I'll quit now and show photos of our vintage inspired dresses another time.

It was the best wedding ever, even if I do say so myself, and I LOVE using vintage stuff instead of a zillion flower arrangements!! The only roses we used were in her bouquet, (which I made) and the corsages. All the other flowers she wanted was baby's breath. Which we did use tons of.

Vintage, DIY weddings for the win!!

Trinkets From The Past

 I was at my Mom's helping her move some things in the house and found this. That's my great Grandmother's photo on the front. 

 It contained some of her jewelry I had never seen before.... Mom had been hiding it from me! (No, just kidding. ) There is nothing I like better than old Family goodies.

 Like this glass necklace. It is exquisite. And not strung on string.... it is strung on a fine and delicate sterling silver chain, with a very Art Deco clasp. 

Pendants, a tiny china dog, a sweater clip, a tie clip belonging to Mom's uncle Henry,  and a tiny padlock I am planning on using in my sister's wedding bouquet in  February. Her groom will be wearing a tiny skeleton key on his lapel.

 Some of my great grandfather's things; including his WW1 dog tag. The bronze medal is from the Pennsylvania National Guard, and on the back it says "Mexican Border Service".

Of all the old things I have ever seen or handled, it is my own family heirlooms I love the best. And I am so blessed that we have so many in my family! My family keeps E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G.

Last week, on Tuesday, October 9, at 6 pm, a dear friend passed away after ten months in Duke University Hospital, receiving two lung transplants a few months apart.

My friend's name was William Stephen (Steve) Keel. He was 67 years old.

My parents had been friends with Steve and his wife Nancy since before I was born; and their 7 kids are my age or there abouts. Their family and my family, and many other families in the community, lived near each other, grew together, ate together, learned together, played together, sang together, suffered together, and existed side by side for my whole life, and continue to do so.

In recent years I began working for their family, caring for their adult daughter with a mental handicap. So my life became even more closely entwined with theirs. Their children got married, had kids, life happened. And I was close at hand to witness it.

Some years ago, Steve was diagnosed with IPF - pulmonary fibrosis. For whatever reason, his lungs were slowly beginning to fail him.

I have watched over the past four years or so, as with each passing season, it seemed to worsen and become a heavier and heavier burden... until last fall, when when he was told if he did not get a lung transplant, he would die very soon. I was there the day they returned from a visit to the doctor with this grim prognosis. He needed to get on a transplant list, and sooner rather than later. Usually the transplant process takes several months of physical therapy and waiting "in line" behind other folks also needing transplants.

And yet, being people of great faith and trust in Almighty God and his healing powers, they and the family, along with the whole Christian Community stood and believed in great faith that he would be approved for the transplant and ultimately, healed of this horrible disease.

The reality of the situation truly hit home for me personally when we were called in to the home about a year ago, and Steve told my husband what his burial wishes were. He wanted to be buried on a hillside in the woods behind their house, in a plain brown box. He laid out all the specifics for my husband, so that in the event of his death, his wife would not need to make these arrangements. He knew that Kevin had the tools, the know how, and the leadership to take this task upon him if the time came.

In November, a few weeks before Thanksgiving, he was approved for transplant, and put on the top of the transplant waiting list at Duke. He moved to a friend's home in Durham to be a quick few minutes from the Hospital when the word came that lungs were available.

He never returned home.

At the time of his moving to be loser to the hospital, my life really changed a lot. I not only took care of the daughter, now I was sitting at their home with Nancy's 96 year old mother with dementia. There is a staff of about five of us who took shifts around the clock, staying in the home and caring for the invalids there, and undertook the running of the household. Cooking, cleaning, laundry, grocery shopping, phone calls, anything and everything, we did. Around the clock.

We got the news that a lung was available on January 31, 2011. It was a match. He received the lung transplant and all went well. He even recovered well from the operation and it seemed like the healing was well on it's way and he would be able to come home.

Then there were setbacks. Problems, issues. It became evident that the second lung would need to be removed, right away. Once again, he had to wait for another lung, while his life was in the balance. A prayer vigil was held when it seemed like all was lost, and the very next day, a lung was flown in and the second surgery performed.

But he never recovered from the second transplant. He spent months in the ICU, connected to a ventilator via a trac in his neck. He was unable to eat, or drink. He was on a feeding tube. He became skeletal, as he lost weight and muscle.
I went to visit Steve around this time; in the ICU. He was frail, and weak. Thin, and aged. But his eyes were still bright, and his countenance was hopeful. His voice was weak as he told me the doctors had told him in 30 days he should be out of ICU and maybe after that, able to come home. 

He recovered somewhat and was released for two weeks, and they stayed in Durham to be close to the hospital in case anything went wrong.
After two weeks, he was back in the hospital, and only went downhill after that.  

Being in the home all these months, practically living there, I got the daily updates; the emails, the calls from Nancy on a daily basis with the medical updates on Steve. I knew how she was feeling; how she was coping  - or not coping. I witnessed her sorrow, her fear, her despair, as well as her faith in God and strength to endure this incredibly hard time. I, and my co workers, were deeply involved with the whole process, and emotionally invested in the whole ordeal.

There had been many close calls with death, many times when I thought it was going to be the end of Steve, and always it seemed he found the strength from somewhere to pull it together and live another day.

I got a call on Monday last week from Nancy that the Doctors had told them that the Vent was prolonging his inevitable death and not preserving his life; and the decision was made to remove him from the vent and let him go to be with the Lord. The family were all on their way. The time was set for Tuesday at 3 pm. Not many people knew what was going on.

Tuesday, 3 pm came, and oh how I felt a heavy weight of sadness and sorrow for the family as I knew what was going on at that time.  It was my day off and yet my heart and mind were right there. I went to a business meeting with Kevin and my Dad, and at 7 PM, my co worker and friend Cara texted me to say that he had passed away.

I felt an immediate relief for him - he was free from the unimaginable pain and suffering; but such a heavy grief for his family who had just lost their Husband and Father so soon, it seemed.

The funeral was held at the home and many people were in attendance. It was the most deeply spiritual celebration of life service I have ever attended.

As the gathering sang the hymn "Fairest Lord Jesus", a butterfly fluttered over the heads of everyone there, sitting in a circle in chairs on the lawn. I watched as the butterfly flew all around, and then soared higher and higher into the air above the trees until I could no longer see it.

The graveside service was extremely emotional. I have only ever been to one other graveside service before.

Steve was buried in the Jewish tradition, with friends and family helping to shovel in the dirt. With each family member who stepped up and shoveled in earth, my tears flowed heavier. My friend John Howell stepped up to shovel in some dirt as he began singing a hymn, and before he was finished, broke down into mournful sobs as friends Jerry and Ruffin enclosed him in their arms in comfort.

Antion, who had lived with them for ten months, and who I had become good friends with during that time, stepped up to shovel in his portion, and after the first one, couldn't stop - sobbing, he shoveled in ten or twelve more shovels full. As each friend stepped up, the shoveling in of the dirt was like a last and final offering.

Through the whole experience of the past year, I have been struck by the great love and deep connection our families have for one another. (The families in our Christian Church community here locally.)
I can go months - sometimes a year or so! - without seeing some of these friends, and when you meet up again, it is as if no time has passed at all. There is no catching up or getting to know one another all over again; you simply pick up where you left off. That is how steady and unified we are as a community and as the Body of Christ. Perfect? Heck no.  But it is the unconditional love for one another that covers the "imperfections". I thank God that I am privileged to be a part of such an awesome group of people. These friends are Brothers and Sisters in Christ, and we are one big family. And this past week we lost a important and dearly loved member of our family; he will be so greatly missed. The loss is painful and deep. But I rejoice that he is with The Father and is no longer suffering with a diseased and broken body.

I will see you again, Mr. Keel. And we will have so much to talk about.

A Quick Trip

(The house photos above are just of some random, ramshakle house near where Kevin was working in the afternoon that I thought had great character.)

(The pier above was destroyed during one of the last hurricanes - I think it was Irene? - last summer.)

I went on an impromptu trip with my husband this weekend, a little work (for him) and a little play. We headed over to the coast of North Carolina where we stayed at the vacation home of a work colleague of his, on the Albermarle sound, just a short drive to the Outer Banks. The OBX, as they're sometimes referred to, are barrier islands that make up the coast of North Carolina. The Sounds within the barrier islands are like lagoons.
Lucky for us, we live just under 4 hrs. from the OBX, and Kevin goes there, often, for work. We just don't always stay.
I've been to the OBX many times before; straying in Nag's Head mostly. I love and adore the North Carolina Outer Banks, almost as much as I love and adore Florida beaches. 

The wire box in the last photo is a crab tap. You stick bait in the middle and toss it in the water for several hours. The crabs climb in but can't get out. I've gone crabbing before, but never with traps; when I went crabbing it was with family in Louisiana; and we used lines and nets. You bait your hook and line, and toss it in the water; crabs flock to it and you pull them out with the net and toss them in a bucket. Except when I went crabbing, the alligators were vying for the bait along side the crabs. Once you have an alligator jump out of the water and bite off your line that you're holding in your hand, it kinda makes you want to never go crabbing again.

I find the trap method much nicer. And you get to keep your hands. That's a plus.

These are blue softshell crabs, which means these crabs have lost their hard outer shell and are still pretty soft. They're only in season from April - Sept. When I took the photos of the ones above, I was quite a distance off (pretty nice zoom on my camera) and they were eating the algae off the rocks.

A gorgeous storm rolled in across the sound, with stunning clouds. I didn't get enough photos to do it justice....





We got back home today and it's back to the ol' grindstone of working and ... well, working. And working and working.....

*sigh*


PS.... OMG. I Just realized, this is my 501th post on this blog. Wow.

:)

A Regular While

Southern expressions are quaint and sometimes puzzling; especially if you haven't lived here for long. I'm a Southerner born and bred, so I am used to it. I use these expressions myself without even thinking about it.

My talkative, older neighbor came by  the house this afternoon to drop off some squash and zucchini from his garden and we discussed plants and recipes and canning for  awhile.

He was explaining to me how he goes about canning stewed tomatoes.

"I bring them to a bol (with a southern accent, 'boil' is just one consinant, pronounced without the 'i') and I turn down the heat an let em cook down for a regular while, then I hot pack the jars and can'nem."

A Regular While basically means "an appropriate amount of time", varying according to whatever it is you're doing, or where you might be going.

For stewing tomatoes for canning, A Regular While of simmering is about 20 minutes.

For driving distances, A Regular While is open to interpritation.

If you're from someplace else, but have been living in the South for A Regular While, you might be considered an honorary Southerner, like my husband, who has been living in the South for 12 years.

The neighbor and I shot the breeze  about getting the deer out of his tomato patch,  methods of cooking okra, how I like my brand of canner, Kevin's work schedule, hay field yields for the first cutting, and of course, canning stewed tomatoes. Before I knew it, an hour had passed.

Or, I should say, A Regular While.

Blackberry Season

It's Summer. And summer means blackberries (among other things). This year they're really abundant! I can't remember when I have seen so many. And they're fat and juicy; not puny and tart like most years.

So this calls for black berry pie! I made one for our Father's Day picnic last weekend.  Yum!

Wild Blackberry Pie

4 cups fresh blackberries

1/2 cup sugar

1/2 cup all purpose flour

2 pie crusts

2 Tbsp. milk

2 Tbsp. sugar

Add the flour and sugar to 3 1/2 cups blackberries. Place in pie pan lined with one pie crust.  Place remaining 1/2 cup berries over the top. Top with second pie crust, crimp edges, and make a few slits in the top. Brush the crust with milk and sprinkle with sugar. 

Bake 15 min. at  425 degrees; then reduce heat to 375 degrees and bake 20 - 25 min. more.  Serve with vanilla ice cream.

Tip: always use glass pie pans. The crusts turn out so much better than with metal ones. Also, use the refrigerated pie crusts or make your own; the crusts that come in the freezer section of the grocery store are really gross. A nice home made filling deserves a good crust(s). 

Here are a couple more pics of our picnic....... I made some flower arrangements with flowers in my yard and in the fields on the farm.

Hick Chick.

My sister and I had a bit  of  fun in the hayfield after we returned from a baby shower to help the rest of the family pick up hay bales on the farm.

Yes, that is one of my husband's collection of International Harvester tractors.

And yes, I have driven it.

The back tires are taller than I am, and it intimidates the heck out of me, and I don't drive it very often - but a farm girl's gotta do what a farm girl's gotta do.


Dress: Marshalls. Purchased for my Grandmother's funeral three years ago. I cannot put on this dress and not think of that day. 
Belt: Thrifted
Shoes: Jessica Simpson, thrifted. 
Necklace: Vintage. Milk glass beads. 
Ring: Vintage 60s, Etsy