wedding

Hot. As. Hades. Even in a knee-length, sleeveless sundress and sandals and no stockings, I was dripping.

Ironically, my parents' wedding in 1974 was equally as bad, weather-wise. San Angelo, Texas. Middle of June. 110 degrees. Though my mom was in a paper-thin wedding dress, she still passed out once. How my dad made it through in his army uniform, I don't know.

It wasn't as bad as I expected. They decided against the electric palm tree, thank heaven. None of the guys' Hawaiian shirts were horrible. We didn't have to wear leis. I actually saw my father dance for the first time in my life. Us kids were introduced as the "blended family." Val did the introductions, and because it was Tim's birthday as well, Val gave him a singing telegram (one of her jobs from college). So combining my stepmother's kids and my stepfather's kids, I now have seven stepsiblings.

And we get to do it all over again when Em and Jamie get married next April.