what to say

While most of our wedding planning has been humming along happily, there is one department that's really come to what I'd have to call a screeching halt.  I'm embarrassed to say that I still don't have a very concrete idea of what our ceremony is going to look like--or sound like.

I thought the "words" part of this whole thing was going to be so easy.  And in a way, it is.  I say one thing, he says another thing, the officiant says a final thing, and them--bam!--we're hitched.  The thing is, it's hard to know what everyone should actually say.  Should we say Lutheran things, for my family?  Or Baptist things, for his?  Or should we just use civil ceremony language, as though a Justice of the Peace were calling the shots?

Of course, there's a world of ideas out there.  Just Google "wedding ceremony script," if you'd like to have your mind blown by the possibilities.

And then there are the readings.  We thought it would be nice to have a few.  Partially in the spirit of  celebration.  Also because we thought it might be a little rude to have a wedding ceremony that was three minutes long.  Especially for the people who are traveling two thousand miles to join us.

I just can't figure out what to use.  It's starting to seem pretty likely that we'll have a reading from the Bible.  After that, though, I'm kind of at a loss.  Dr. Seuss?  Shakespeare?  Is there a text that really defines us as a couple?  Maybe, but I have a sneaking suspicion that it's the script from an episode of The Office.  Or maybe, I don't know, The Simpsons.

Of course, just like everything else, this is something that we'll eventually figure out.  In the meantime, though, I'm totally open to ideas.  Unless it's Shakespeare.  Because I love Will, but at a wedding, his words always sound less like brilliance, and more like cliche.  And honestly, I think I'm still scarred from dissecting Sonnet 116 in Mr. Watts' AP English class...

{Okay, and honestly, what I really want to find--and don't you dare laugh--is the perfect reading from The Little House on the Prairie books.  I accidentally started reading These Happy Golden Years the other day, and now I'm just incredibly fascinated by the love stories in Laura Ingalls Wilders' books.  I haven't read them since I was eight or nine, and--who knew?--it turns out that Ma and Pa Ingalls were, like, totally in love.  And Almanzo Wilder?  Absolutely dreamy.  Enough of all this Twilight nonsense, those folks out on the prairie totally had it going on.

A birthday or two ago, my partner-in-crime got me all the LHotP books.  They're all different editions, spanning four or five decades.  My favorite cover is from These Happy Golden Years.  It's the 1956 edition, I think, and it's just beautiful.  Garth Williams was a genius...}

silver

No, we will not be the first couple in the world to have mismatched silverware at our wedding reception.  I take comfort in the fact, though, that even the cool kids are still doing it.  Of course, we aren't doing it to be cool.  Not exactly.  It's more that we thought the effect would be cool.  We're probably not saving money--it could have been cheaper to rent--but it's really hard to explain to the folks at the rental company that you think it would be really fun to have lots of forks and spoons that look nothing like each other.

And besides, the whole thing has given us a great excuse to indulge in one of our favorite activities.  We spent hours--days, probably--poking through funny little thrift stores in and around my hometown in Ohio.  And you know how much we love treasure-hunting.

I think we've finally come up with enough of everything.  I'm still feeling a little insecure about spoons, but hey, a bride has to have something to stress about, right?

What I really wanted to do--and it never would have worked--was to have real silver at our wedding.  Every once in awhile, when I'm at the Goodwill, I'll see old silver mixed in with all the stainless steel in the silverware bins.  And the best part?  It's still the same price.  It's kind of my dream now to have an entire set of "good" silver that I've pieced together at twenty-nine cents a fork.  I'll let you know how that works out.

Of course, we're not registering for silver.  I'm not that kind of girl. (In fact, I'm not sure I'm even a "registering" kind of girl, at all.  I think that's something I'll have to address another time.)

It's kind of funny, though.  Pretty much the only people that seem to think that the 21st Century American couple should register for something so decadent is, um, the people that want to sell it to you.  The wedding industry is still all over silver, which I find amusing in a cloying, condescending way.

I'm not saying I don't like the heft and the history of fancy silverware.  I love it.  When you're paying three hundred dollars a setting, though, instead of--I don't know--say, thirty?  It seems like a real cut-and-dry sort of decision.

Oh, unless you're at the Goodwill.

So this is the beginning of my collection.  At the rate I'm going, I'll probably be retired before we have enough forks to have company over for Sunday dinner.  And of course, the pieces aren't going to match.  Which is absolutely fine.  There's just something kind of regal about silver.  When you hold it, it feels important.  Which is probably why people go all ga-ga over expensive flatware in the first place.

And I'm fascinated by the fact that families used to have their silverware monogrammed:

I'll be honest.  I kind of have this fantasy now of hosting a fancy, modern wedding where the wedding cake is topped with a fork and spoon, instead of the traditional bride-and-groom caketopper.

Admit it.  You can kind of see it, too, can't you?

other places to go

Now might be a good time to introduce you to a few of my new favorite wedding blogs.  I don't know why it took me so long to find them, but now that I have, I'm kind of hooked.  I know that I'm always sending you to sites like Once Wed and Martha Stewart Weddings.  There's good stuff there, and I'm not about to give either of them up.

What I really love, though, are the bride blogs.  Call me self-centered, but I like the idea of a woman using a blog as a sounding board, a confessional, and a kind of diary as she cobbles together "the most important day" of her life.

If you're intrigued by that, too, then take a look at Souris Mariage.  Mouse is planning a September wedding in Arizona.  In the meantime, she's treating us all to her witty, down-to-earth observations on wedding planning, some beautiful photos, and weekly peeks at real weddings.  She also hosts an awesome resource list that ranges from "How to Find an Ethical Jeweler" to "How to Make an ipod Reception Playlist."

And if you're feeling, um, peculiar, try The Bowie Bride.  Please be forewarned, this is not for the faint of heart.  The Bowie Bride isn't pulling any punches.  She's fun and maybe a little mouthy and I think she's a pretty good time.  She and her man are getting hitched in L.A. in July, and they are doing it in style.

If questionable language and risque photos aren't your cup of tea, though, then you should skip right ahead to A Homegrown Wedding.  Lindsay and her fiance are planning a June wedding and they are personally tackling nearly every detail of the day.  Anyone who makes her own wedding invitations is a woman after my own heart.

No two brides are alike, and so, of course, neither are our blogs.  I hope you enjoy peeking at these three works-in-progress.  One of the sad truths of bride blogs is that they rarely outlast the wedding.  Hopefully, these three keep flying after the big day.  I can't wait to see what these ladies do next...

revisiting

In my very first post here on the Sparrow--which seems like so long ago--I showed you this little ring pillow-substitute that I'd tossed together.  I thought the thing was cute, and it went over quite well at the Salvage Bride workshop, but I knew almost before it was even done that it wasn't the right ring-holding-thing for our wedding.

I want to say that I've been puzzling over the matter ever since, but the truth is, I've had other, more pressing things to puzzle over.  I'd kind of forgotten about the whole thing until a few days ago, when I had a teeny-tiny eureka moment.  I remembered that a few winters ago, I made about a dozen felted wool bowls, a few of which are still kicking around our place.

No, they're not super-fancy, but I like them.  And my man likes them.  And they're kind of--us.  Unfortunately, I didn't have the foresight when I was knitting and felting these in late 2008 to make them nice and shallow, in order to properly display a pair of small-but-important rings.  So, I picked the best of the bowls and decided to make a little cushion to tuck inside it.

Over the weekend, we found some fabric to play with--actually, my partner-in-crime found it, but I'm going to take partial credit.  The pattern is called "Key Tree Yellow Plume" and it's by Tula Pink for Moda.  It looks a little bit like this:

I think it's cute, and if you like it, too, you can find it in this Etsy shop, among other places.

I've already been very up front with you all about my miserable sewing skills, but one of the few things in my repertoire is, in fact, tiny pillows.  I sat in the kitchen and sewed while my man cooked dinner.  It took about twenty minutes, and while it's not perfect, I think it will do just fine.  I still haven't gotten the rest of the thing figured out, but I'm pretty sure I'm on the right track.

I'm going to take a moment now to say that if you're a knitter and you've never made a felted bowl, then it's time to get down to business.  It will be one of the easiest--and most fulfilling--little things you ever make.  Go to ravelry.com and get yourself an account, if you haven't got one.  You'll find plenty of patterns there for felted bowls, boxes, and everything else.

(And if you aren't a knitter, and you live in the Seattle Metro area, I will gladly exchange one half-hour "intro to knitting" for a small cup of coffee and a cupcake with pink or yellow frosting.  The ball is officially in your court.)

With all that said, I'm still not absolutely sold on the whole "rings in a felted bowl" thing.  I kind of want one of these:

(from Pomp & Plumage)

And I'm having a hard time not just ponying up for one of these:

(from Paloma's Nest)

Really, though, I know that we don't need either of those.  The details of our wedding don't need to look like something in a magazine.  They should look like who we are and what we do.  There are some finishing touches that still need to be figured out, but all in all, I'm pretty happy with what we've got...

making space

You know all that crafty goodness I've got planned for this weekend?  There was a necessary first step that I had to take this afternoon.  Crafting usually requires a flat surface to work on, and much to my man's chagrin, I've managed to cover almost every flat surface in our apartment with at least a light dusting of, um, stuff.  So today, the big project on my list was turning this...

...into this:

If I've made it look quick and easy, well, don't be fooled, my friends.  This was an all-out offensive, and there were a few casualties.  Now, though, I've got plenty of room to make a big, crafty mess and hopefully, when I post again on Monday, I'll have something fun to share.

Happy weekend, everyone!

pictures

We have a few photos hanging on our walls at home.  In our living room, there's a picture of what looks to be a collegiate rugby team.  Here's a detail shot of a few of the boys.  They're obviously taking this whole thing very seriously.

And in our bathroom--because where else would you hang it?--there's a group portrait of the 42nd Annual Convention of the American Association of Baggage Handlers.  It was taken in Minneapolis, on June 28, 1927.  I can say this with certainty, because it's all written right there, in the lower right-hand corner of the photo.  By my count, there are ninety-four people in the picture.  My favorite ones are the wives in big hats.

I have photographs at work, too, that I've stuck in different places.  I found this in a box of old love letters and birthday cards that mysteriously drifted into the shop.  After shuffling through a few of the letters--some stirring stuff, folks--I've decided that this woman's name is Sue.

And nobody seems to remember where this photo came from.  It was probably tucked into the pages of an old book or lying in the bottom of a cardboard box.  It floated around for awhile before I stuck it up on the wall because I just felt sorry for it, and I thought it deserved some respect.  Oh, and also, because there's a baby.

I don't know why we have all these pictures of people we don't know.  I think it's partially because we're collectors of things.  And because I love stories and my man loves images.  I don't think it's strange that we've kept the photos, but I do think it's a little weird that we don't have any pictures of ourselves or our families hanging anywhere.

Oh, we do have the digital picture frame thing that slide-shows all the time, and it's pretty cool.  In my book, though, it's just not the same as a photo on the wall.  We don't really have that many hard copy pictures of the two of us.  Which is why I'm so happy we've finally booked a photographer for the wedding.

I don't think he'd ever describe himself as a wedding photographer, but Andrew does great work, and we're really excited to have him around.  Having decent pictures of the wedding was one of our highest priorities, and I'm glad we're not gambling on some run-of-the-mill wedding photographer that we found in the yellow pages.  In the end, we'll have a few quality pictures as proof that this whole crazy thing actually happened to us.

And maybe someday, someone we'll never know will find those pictures in a box, or under a floor board, or tucked between the pages of a book.  They'll wonder who those kids in the funny clothes are and why they look so dang happy.

In the meantime, though, we'll have a few more photos to hang on our the walls.  But don't worry.  We certainly won't be getting rid of the ones we already have.

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...