the polls

Our RSVP postcards asked--politely--for a reply by the 1st of May.  There are still a few of them out there in the universe that haven't come back yet, but I was prepared for that, and I'm certainly not panicking.

What I have been a little anxious about, though, are the results of the multiple choice question we posed to our potential guests.  Along with asking folks how many people there will be in their party, and whether or not they're vegetarian, we also asked them to tell us which couple they'd most like to see us embrace as romantic role models.

Here are the standings so far:

Romeo & Juliet haven't gotten any votes at all.  That's alright; I'm not sure they really deserve anything.

Only one vote so far for Sid & Nancy.  Again, maybe that's for the best.  Those kids didn't exactly make the best life choices, either.

Jim & Pam have edged ahead--by just one vote!--of Princess Buttercup and Westley.

And, of course, Ma & Pa Ingalls are headed for a landslide victory.  I'm biased, naturally, but I do think they're the best choice.  As one of our beloved respondents pointed out, "They love each other and are a realistic couple!"

If you've been reading, you know that I'm already cultivating a Ma Ingalls-like serenity.  All my man has to do is grow out his beard and learn the fiddle and we'll be set.

There are still votes coming in.  I'll keep you posted of any significant new developments.  In the meantime, here are a few of my favorites from the write-in candidates:

Wall-E and Eve

Clarence and Alabama

Anna and The King of Siam

Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young

Frog and Toad

The Curies (minus the radiation)

Cliff and Claire Huxtable

If you haven't voted, now's your chance.  Feel free to comment below...

finally

I've been talking about our invitations since forever.  It's been so long since I posted here about our adventures in perforating.  And as you might recall, we actually mailed the pretty little things a few weeks ago.  At this point, I think it's safe to say that, despite a few false starts with the USPS, everyone that was expecting an invite ought to have received it by now.  Maybe it's finally time, then, to show off a few of my favorite things about our fancy correspondence.

If you've been reading for awhile, you already know that my partner-in-crime printed the invitations during his letterpress class at Pratt.  Actually, he did the save-the-dates first.  Remember this?

The invites are printed in the same font and on the same paper as the save-the-dates, but I think my man would agree when I tell you that printing the invitations was a bit more complicated.  He spent a lot of time planning it all out, and--almost--all of the good ideas here are his, not mine.

(I know that when he sees this post, he'll think that my photos don't quite do justice to the fruits of his labor.  Let me point out to you--and to him--that it is very, very hard to take flattering photos of a piece of paper.  I really don't know how the pros do it...)

The layout is a tri-fold.  The first section is the invitation to our Ohio wedding, the second--which is almost a mirror image, of sorts--is the invitation to our Washington reception.

I think the third part might be the best.  It's a detachable RSVP postcard for our guests to send back to us.  And this isn't some stuffy old RSVP, that just indicates who is responding and how many there are in the party.  Oh, no.  We wanted people to have a chance to, well, say something.

Granted, there's some multiple choice involved, but after that, we've left plenty of room for people to tell us just about anything.  And while I loved seeing these invitations come into being and I really enjoyed sending them out, I'm pretty sure the best part so far has been the RSVPs coming back home again.  I've been getting a big thrill out of checking the mailbox every day.  It turns out that our friends and family are hilarious and/or incredibly thoughtful people and it shows in their responses.  We are so lucky.

There are plenty of beautiful wedding invites out there, but please don't think I'm being silly if I tell you that I wouldn't trade these for anything.

progress

The invites went out yesterday.  I can stop lying awake at two in the morning, worrying about the countless ways they could be ruined before we ever managed to mail them out.  House fire.  Spilled coffee.  Vengeful cat.

Now all I have to worry about is the United States Postal Service.  Godspeed little envelopes!  You're on your own in this harsh, harsh world...

For those of you keeping score, here's the news of the week:  The invites are out.  The tent is reserved.  The photographer has officially shifted from "strong maybe" to "yes."  I ordered my man's ring just today from this lovely Etsy seller.  (I already have a wedding ring waiting for me, a beautiful little thing that belonged to his grandmother.  I can't wait to show you...)  

And--that's pretty much it.  It seemed like a lot earlier today, but really, there's still so much more to do.  I'm okay with that.  I work well under pressure.  The procrastinator in me almost requires it.

If you're holding out for more crafty goodness, don't worry.  I've got plans for this weekend that, if all goes well, will result in some fun things to share soon.

But for now, I've got more list-making to do...

top secret

I am usually pretty good at keeping a secret.  Especially if it's someone else's secret.  If you're reading this, and you've recently told me something that you didn't want anyone else on the planet to know about, rest assured that your secret is safe with me.  Probably.

But one secret that I've been having a very hard time with lately is the design for our wedding invitation.  I am so excited about all of my good ideas and my man's good ideas and his hard work and the beautiful paper and ink.  I can barely keep my mouth shut.  I keep wanting to show it to someone--almost anyone--and say, "Look what we're doing!"

But I haven't.  And I won't.  Because I love surprises.  And every surprise starts out as a secret.

There's a recent development on the invitation front, and I think I can tell you about it without giving away anything too crucial.  One component of the invite relies heavily on our access to a perforator.
The perforator is designed to punch a line of tiny holes to make a piece of paper easy to tear in a straight line.  (Remember when postage stamps were perforated?  I miss that.)

It just so happens that we knew where to borrow such a device.  The one we used was patented in 1888 by Mr. F.P. Rosback.  (The Rosback Company is still in operation today, although it's safe to say that their product line is a little different.)  The 1888 version is foot-powered, with a treadle that brings down a line of tiny needles that punch holes in the paper.

There are other ways to perforate paper, of course.  You can buy a special blade for a rotary paper cutter.  They sell them at hobby and craft stores, and maybe I'll buy one someday.  We really didn't want to use one for the invitations, though.  With all the work my man's been doing on the antique presses at Pratt, we thought that using Mr. Rosback's perforator would provide some symmetry.

So tonight, we decided to get down to business.

First, though, there was a little bit of prep work to do.  I'm not sure when someone last used this piece of machinery, but there was some serious dust to contend with.  There was rust.  Some pieces didn't want to move.  Fortunately, I spend a lot of time surrounded by clever people.  I did my best to stay out of the way and quietly drink my beer while they worked out the kinks.

I didn't do much of the actual work.  I watched.  I said supportive things.  When it came to actually perforating something, though, my partner-in-crime was definitely in charge.  He went through the whole stack in no time, looking like a real pro while he did it.

I got to do the last one, though.  And it was awesome.  The perforator is awesome.  I love the way that a well-built machine can go through the world for over a hundred years and still do the job it was designed for.  It's a rarer thing than it ought to be, I think.

Of course, I want to show you the end result of this evening's work.  And of course, I can't.  For now, I'm just going to revel in the fact that the invitations are done.  Really done, this time.  Unless we decide to do something else to them before they hit the mail...

saint brigid

Saint Brigid is the patron saint of--among many other things--fugitives, chicken farmers, and midwives. And also of printing presses. I learned this last bit just recently, and I'm kind of fascinated by it. I like the idea of a saint interceding on behalf of a printing press. From what little I know of printing presses, I can imagine that they could sometimes use the help.

If I'd known about St. Brigid sooner, I might have started bending her ear a little bit, just to cover my bets. My partner-in-crime signed up for a letterpress printing class last fall, and ever since, he's been churning out the most amazing things. Postcards. Business cards. All working up to a grand finale--our wedding invitations.

I am pleased to announce that the invitations are done. And by "done," I mean "printed." There's still some assembly required--which will probably call for some heavy machinery and maybe a few beers. And then comes all the envelope stuffing and handwriting of addresses. Which actually sounds kind of nice to me. I really like postage stamps.

Of course, I'm not going to ruin the surprise for anyone by posting a photo of the invitation--you never know who's reading--but I can share the save-the-date card that we slipped in with our Christmas cards last December.

What looks like a tiny red thread in the photo above really is a tiny red thread. I tied sixty or seventy of those miniature bows in the course of a few grueling hours last winter. And it was totally worth it, even if my fingers were a little stiff for a few days afterwards.

Figuring out the save-the-date was a snap compared to all the debate that went into planning our invitation. Between the two of us, we have one person who's obsessed with language and one with very discriminating tastes where layout and color are concerned. I think, in the end, we both got what we wanted, and hey, isn't that what this whole marriage thing is all about?

I really want to show you the invitation now, but I can't, so instead, here's a picture my man took of the work in progress. Before you can print anything, you need to set the type in a frame called a chase. The blocks of wood filling in the gaps around the type are called "furniture," a detail that I'm enjoying almost as much as the whole St. Brigid thing.

I'm pretty jealous of all the fun stuff my partner-in-crime has been doing in the studio. I love the big, hulking printing presses that he's been working on, and when all the chaos is over, I'm going to make a point of learning more about how this all works. If you're as intrigued as I am, I'd recommend taking a look at www.briarpress.org. If you're in the Seattle area, you'll find that there are several classes available in letterpress printing, including the one that my man has been taking at Pratt Fine Arts Center.

We knew from the start that we'd be making our invitations, but I don't think we really imagined we'd end up with anything like this. Here's hoping that all of those other things we're taking on--like, say, the food--will work out half as well...