I know, I know, my weekend recap is about 100 years or 48 hours late. But wait! My tardiness was not for naught! I learned how to batch resize on my Mac! Know what that means? Yes indeedy, it means that gone are the days of my spending tedious hours opening and resizing each and every photo I intend to share with you to be the perfect expanse of pixels in the name of fullscreen photo-rrific fun!
And guess what else I did? Yep, yep, I tried shooting in aperture priority mode on my Canon T3i. Now I didn’t say I was any good at it, but I gave it the ol’ college crack. Err.. wait, I think I messed that up…
Anyway, these are the first photos shot with said camera, and they documented our weekend away. We’re getting married about three hours from where we live, in the town where Mr. PB grew up (see also: the town that Mr. PB terrorized and vandalized as a teenager). His family just so happens to have stuck around, so we stayed with them while I scouted hotels, tuxedos and rehearsal dinner venues, and he and some of his merry men (ok groomsmen, whatever, maybe they really are merry, you don’t know) worked up sweats building these highly ambitious decorative structures for our wedding reception.
And so it is with pleasure that I introduce to you… PB’s first non-iPhone blog photos!
Now, now people, hold your applause.
There is truly nothing sexier in this world than your man building stuff. With power tools.
Except maybe your man, sauntering about the house in nothing but low-slung jeans, but that’s another post…
That would be my soon-to-be husband in our driveway, building a wooden frame over which to bend rebar. Rebar at a wedding, you ask? Yeah, so did I. Rebar has no place at a wedding! To that I say…Horsefeathers! Just you wait…
Each and every time we arrive at his sister’s house, my soon-to-be niece fixes up the guest room for us with tiny little bottles of seasonally scented bath products, shower caps, assorted textiles, and a handwritten welcome note. You’ll see her adorable face a little further down.
How many college educated adults does it take to fire up a coffee maker? I’m pretty sure we both stood there scratching our heads and turning over accessories for much longer than I’m willing to document. Keurig, I blame you!
Mr. PB is good at everything. I’m not kidding. He’s a technology whiz, a pro with finance, a writer, a musician, an entrepreneur, and he can build anything (that includes the actual with-swinging-door-and-lighted-exit-sign-and-14′-screen-and-1080-projector-and-sound-proof-walls movie theater he added to the house when he bought it at age 28, an age at which I’m pretty sure my parents were still packing my lunch). It’s a little joke between us. I ask him “Is there anything that you’re not good at?? Come on, you have to suck at something! You are disturbing the balance of the universe, Blue Eyes!”, to which he replies “Basketball. I suck at basketball.”
Here is Mr. PB. NOT sucking at basketball.
Here I am, playing with Miss Emma the Super Puppy. Things swiftly devolved and ended with me chanting “Remember, they have the cleanest mouths of any animal…”
The calvary arrives. Complete with cutting tools! It smelled like 4th of July out there.
The boys go to work on bending the rebar.
Oh dear. This is not exactly what we had in mind…
Too pointy? Too pointy.
I provide cheerful moral support and sun care reprimands.*
*As this photo was taken a battalion of fire ants was assembling on my toes for a synchronized stinging. I’m still applying cortisone daily.
And then there were three…
Now we’re getting somewhere!
Go! Go! Go!
Over! Over! Over! Yeah! Good job, boys!
Mr. PB sustained some injuries.
I sustained some beatings on the foosball table and was spanked by two elementary schoolers.
My little note writer twirling in her junior bridesmaid/flower girl dress.
Three nieces-to-be and a brand new Aunt.
Trying out my manual controls at the bonfire later that night. Such an alien concept, this small town life. Bonfires and ATVs and guns and unlocked doors, children playing outside all day, exploring the woods and marveling at Mother Nature’s toys, with nary a Nintendo DS in sight… Mr. PB and I have discussed at length whether that is in fact a better way to grow up than mired among the zero lot line bustle of the crowded metropolis and its outlying suburban hinterlands.
Have I ever told you that Mr. PB hates having his picture taken? Should someone tell him that he’s probably marrying the wrong girl? Well, he does and I have. He insists on marrying me anyway, knowing full well that I will chase him to the ends of the Earth with my assorted image capture devices. Once upon a time a camera-shy boy went to a bonfire. And at that bonfire there waited some moonshine. And the boy drank the moonshine. And his girl had her camera. And she seized the opportunity to capture some shots. And the boy laughed. And they had a wonderful time at the bonfire. The End.
Just kidding! Well. About the end part. I really did get photos of him.
It occurs to me that this man I’m marrying has THE most enviable head of hair I have ever witnessed. I really should be pimping his ass out to Pantene’s advertising department. That would be a heck of a cushy wedding fund. And the worst part is, he’s so blasé about it. “Oh this? Eh. Whatevs.”
He is looking at the camera and smiling. I’m not sure you understand the difficulty in capturing this. And like the Aurora Borealis, it is rare, and it is a beautiful sight to behold.
The next day we stopped at the local formalwear shop to get him measured for his tux. Yes. The boys are wearing tuxes. With cropped tailcoats. In a park. And nobody is happy about it. And the bride does not care.
When we arrived home my Halloween costume was waiting for me. My Leeloo Dallas resurrection costume. My very skimpy Leeloo Dallas resurrection costume. Available from THIS awesome Etsy seller.
Which I won’t be wearing until next year because Halloween falls on an inconvenient day this year and going out is expensive and I gained 6 lbs and wedding budget and… so… I ate chips.
I learned some things on this vacation.
1.) Mr. PB sucks at NOTHING.
2.) Moonshine is essential for photography
3.) A dog given the opportunity will always smooch you right on the mouth
4.) Nieces are wonderful
5.) My wedding is going to be even MORE epic than I had originally surmised
6.) Dogs are always happy to see you; dogs rule
7.) Always empty your trash before going away for the weekend, lest your homecoming be scented with the sweet essence of assorted funk