One Month Ago: June 24, 2007

We got up surprisingly early on Sunday, and returned to Cedar Street for brunch, with Greg in his "Game Over" t-shirt. The catered brunch had waffles and omelets to order, plus a whole table of gooey baked goods. We supplied the crossword puzzles from our birthdays (Jake noted in his blog, "Crossword puzzles in 1973 were kind of hard!"), and were delighted to see Dave Tuller actually have to erase for once. (I missed the photo op, but he graciously staged another erasure for me.)

Thanks to modern technology, we enjoyed Martin West's videos from the wedding, as well as Cathy's photos, some of which she'd already gotten framed! I mean, yeah, I do that to people all the time, but it's neat to have someone do that for me!

As I'd promised my dad, after brunch I went mini golfing in the gown. When we arrived at Pirate's Cove, the cashier asked if we'd just gotten married. Greg said, "Why do you ask?" as Craig replied, "Nah, she just really needs to do laundry." Being on the front course meant we got attention from folks driving by as well as our fellow players, although it wasn't until the foursome behind us had to fish my veil out of a water hazard that anyone actually questioned what was going on. Meanwhile, Amy, Greg H, and David played the back course, for maximum photo coverage.

After the game, Greg needed a snack, so we stopped in the shop next door for ice cream. The son from the group behind us followed us in to ask who'd won, and that was the first time I ever said "My husband." Jake disappeared into the pirate-themed shop and reappeared with a wedding present: Pirate Word-Doku.

Returning to the house (and changing back into more reasonable attire), we hung out with the sibs and watched a terrible movie as the kayaking group returned. Then, cake!

We elected to take some "alone time" that evening, which had been strongly suggested by Al Bishop (actually, he strongly suggested taking the whole day), and eschewed leftovers in favor of dinner out. Of course we ended up eating at the restaurant where all the Simpson kids have worked, but we knew they wouldn't be there.

When we got back, it was time to open gifts. It didn't take too terribly long, because we'd asked for charitable contributions instead, but that meant many people gave us gifts AND charitable contributions. A lot of the gifts were handmade, too, including stained glass from David, cross stitch from Nat, and a hand-woven chess board from KC.

While we were unwrapping, Cathy popped in with a gift she'd just picked up in town. It was a figurine called "Hero," which happened to be by the same artist as the nativity set the Hermanns and Newmans had given us, and was a simple statue of a girl holding a folded flag. She'd seen it in the store and immediately started crying, then pointed it out to Jenny who immediately started crying, and gave it to me...who immediately started crying. It was just over a week earlier that I had been the girl holding a folded flag, after all.

Then, cake!

One Month Ago: June 23, 2007

After breakfast at the Bradford, we drove the block and a half to Cedar Street to make the magic happen. The first project was to pretty up the space we were actually getting married in. David had been given some related tasks earlier, including raising a coffee table to a more altar-ish height, and putting cup hooks in several of the backyard trees. Now I stapled a cheap plastic tablecloth over the table to cover the two-by-four legs, and Sue tacked a few stitches into a linen tablecloth to keep it from sliding off the front. Meanwhile, Kirsten, Christie, Amy, David, and Greg Howard got to work on the ribbon project, cutting 3-foot lengths of various ribbons and stapling them to fishing line to be strung between the cup hooks. It was one of those projects where you just kind of have to keep telling yourself it's going to be fabulous once they're done with it. By the time Steph (who'd been assigned that task weeks before) came over, the Simpsons and company had finished it and moved on to other tasks. We sent Steph back to the hotel, and when my cousins came to help, we sent them to the beach. The Simpsons were decorating machines.

After we (and by "we" I mean "the Simpsons") put tablecloths and centerpieces on all the tables, and Greg had supplied each table with wine, it was noon: high time for a rehearsal. Rev. Bragg arrived and walked us through our paces, including walking in and out. It occurs to me now that walking in and out is really the biggest place for something to go wrong; otherwise you just stand still and do what the celebrant says.

Afterward, we presented gifts to our attendants and each other. The groomsmen each got a set of cufflinks—compasses for Jeff, space invaders for Alan, and LPs for Jake—and the bridesmaids received necklaces and earrings I'd made for them. Greg gave me a beautiful pendant he'd had made with a diamond from his family and a pearl from mine, and I gave him a t-shirt. Because I'm a class act like that. To be fair, it was a very appropriate t-shirt.

As our fancy-pants rehearsal dinner, we had sandwiches from Box Lunch. Hey: they're yummy, and they required minimal clean-up. While we were eating, I was called to sign for a package, which turned out to be a reception toast and a something-borrowed from matron of honor in absentia Symmonie. What fabulous timing! I had hoped she would make a toast at the reception, but when she wasn't able to join us, I demanded she write one to be read. I also asked to borrow a bracelet, and she sent two to choose from; I chose the one that a friend had made for her wedding. The photographer arrived and started taking pictures around the house and yard, and it was time to change into our wedding togs.

The girls and I moved in to the bedroom Greg and I had been staying in (as well as taking over the nearby bathroom and newly-hung full-length mirror), and the boys holed up in Kirsten's room. It was actually a fairly quick change, and it made me wonder again why all the day-of schedules in all the wedding planning books devote so much time to it. Including makeup, I think I took fifteen minutes. The guys may have taken longer as they allegedly all had to have Jeff teach them how to put on cufflinks.

I grabbed a bouquet, and Greg and I headed out to the back yard for some formal photos, when I realized he had no boutonniere. So back in the house where we discovered everyone was dressed and ready to go except his mom. We did as many shots as we could before she got there, then started nagging in earnest. Maybe that's why all the schedules leave more changing time.

After the photos at the house, we piled into two cars—us and the photographer in Greg's mom's precious Mustang convertible, and everyone else in Alan's rental—and tried to drive to the next photo stop. Of course just as we were leaving, the musicians and some other vendors started pulling up the long driveway, so Greg's dad had to direct traffic for a few moments, and we were long gone by the time the second car got onto the street. We took some pictures of just us at Atwood House before the others arrived, begging us to let them know where we were going next time. Oops.

The second photo stop was down on Bridge Street, at the…well, bridge, where we found a shady spot off to the side and posed some more. The third stop was to be the Champlain monument, which I remembered from Christmas as being surrounded by tall grass and having a lovely view, but when we got there with only a few minutes before I wanted to be back at the house, and the entire area was blocked by one pickup truck, I took that as a sign. We returned to the house where I basically hid until the processional.

From the far side of the second floor of the house, I couldn't at all hear the brass quintet prelude I'd worked so hard on for so long, so I hiked up my train and snuck through the attic to get closer. From there, I could either listen to the quintet through one window or look at the gathering throngs from another, and either way it was oppressively hot. Eventually I returned to the comfort of the living room. Erica ran out to tell the quintet about a change that affected them, and reported back that if they played through all the music they still had left, we would age visibly before the wedding even started. I sent her back out with the message that they could cut the last prelude tune if they wanted, it being the longest, but that I would defer to the horn player, since that part was by far the most difficult. They elected to cut some earlier tunes instead, and by the time Erica returned with that news, the last tune had begun.

Following the prelude, the quintet played "Good morrow, good mother" from Iolanthe, the cue for Greg's parents, Rev. Bragg, and the groomsmen to enter. Rev. Bragg coached the guests on the responses required throughout the ceremony, and nodded to the quintet...and then we were off. I didn't really know where to look during the processional. All the bridal guides tell you to look around and really absorb the moment, but I was afraid that catching the eye of anyone crying would set me off, too, so it seems by the pictures that I mostly looked at the ground. Very sensible: less likely to trip that way. I arrived at Greg's side just as the processional was wrapping up.

During college, I went to a wedding where the bride's giant tulle headpiece made her look like a cockatoo, and she didn't help her case by constantly looking around during the ceremony. Between her and the girls at church who I've dubbed "the girl who plays with her skirt" and "the girl who touches her hair," I was very conscientious to stand still and at least appear to pay attention. I limited my movement to keeping my heels from sinking into the ground. Mike's and Kirsten's readings were a lot of fun; I was happy to hear people chuckling at them, since we'd put entirely too much time in trying to find readings that were amusing for us but still appropriate for a wedding. The homily was very nice, touching on the Dad thing without bringing the mood down too much, and after half an hour exactly, we were married! Just like that!

We went directly into the house, do not pass go, collected the photographer, grabbed the spare headpiece, and took off for some alone time under the guise of picture taking. We went first to Oyster Pond, where it didn't occur to any of us to get pictures of our matching dance shoes until after we'd half-slid down a sand bank. Then we drove through town in the convertible, veil a-flapping, and accepted congratulations from strangers. The plan was to swing past the light, see how bad the parking situation was, and drive back to the house to explain we couldn't get pictures at the light because the parking was too bad. There were four open spaces! Four! And by golly we took one! First we blocked foot traffic on the stairs to the beach, and then we blocked vehicular traffic on Shore Road as we posed by the light and the photographer stood on the opposite side of the street. More congratulations from strangers, and then up Stage Harbor the back way, back to the house.

Meanwhile, back at cocktail hour, the tiny lamb chops were going like hotcakes. To coin a phrase. Cathy's pictures include shots of a good third of the guests with lamb chops in hand. We grabbed a few appetizers as they were being passed, and took some pictures with various combinations of Greg's family, then all eight of my relatives who attended. Rev. Bragg thanked us for including recordings of Meredith Bragg and the Terminals during cocktail hour, and as we were trooping back into the house to regroup (and bustle) for the reception, a song Madi had written came on. I know it made Jake kind of uncomfortable when cocktail hour kicked off with three tunes in a row of him, but it ended up being a really fun way to personalize that section of the event. Plus I just wanted to show off how talented our wedding party was.

Just prior to the grand entrance, the DJ came to find us to review some of the order of ceremonies, as well as re-check the pronunciations I'd given him. He burned through "Mariama Torruella" and "Symmonie" like they were "Mary Smith," then got caught on "Haller." The grand entrance was the first time Jeff was actually alone walking in or out; we had Symmonie announced "in absentia." He gave a great toast—just enough mention of potential spawn to placate his mother, not so much that we got uncomfortable—followed by Madi reading what Symmonie had sent her. As I recall, that was the only tearing-up I did all day!

During the toast, the designated party table (table nine, Greg's siblings and cousins) spotted the catering staff helping themselves to the rum punch still on the patio from cocktail hour, and sent out a rescue squad. Dinner was buffet style, featuring roast beef; chicken stuffed with sage, apple, and cranberry; tortellini; new potatoes; and roasted vegetables. In short, the caterer was an ass, but the food was good.

I'd had a brainstorm I had neglected to tell Greg about, but was reminded when the clinking started. I had decided that instead of clicking their glasses to make us kiss, our guests would have to write us haikus. After one early entry from table four (our work friends) and the request of a clarification from table one (Greg's dad's cousins), there was periodic haiku all night...which fairly quickly dissolved into haiku trash-talking between tables four and nine; the kissing thing was just ancillary.

A brainstorm I had managed to let Greg in on was the cake cutting idea, mostly because I knew we needed to practice it in advance. I mean, if you're going to give a diabetic cake, you should by all rights give him insulin, too. I want to emphasize that I was not hurting him, and he only made that face as a joke. No, really.

After the cake cutting, it was time for the first dance. We'd never really practiced anything, since we really didn't have anywhere to do it, so the whole plan was to do East Coast swing for the first section of the song, then segue into Lindy Hop. The bigger problem with not practicing it, though, as I saw it, was the fact that we'd never done it with a floor-length dress before. The chance of disastrous hem-stepping was very, very high, but we made it! I have no regrets about cutting the repeated verse and chorus from the recording, and in fact when I returned to work, someone who hadn't even been there thanked me for taking that into consideration. I know what he means: there are some boring first dance videos out there, even when people paid a pretty penny to have something choreographed.

While folks were finishing off their cake, we visited each table to thank everyone for coming, then since our guest book was rather non-standard, we made another trip around to encourage people to contribute their Wit, Wisdom, and Wishes. The haiku and dancing continued including the two tunes I'd put on the "must play" list: the "Shim Sham Song" and Louis Armstrong's "A Kiss to Build a Dream On." I had hoped against hope that more of our local friends would have jumped on the Lindy bandwagon with us, so there would have been more shim shammers out there (as it was, Hannah and Jackson were more than happy to participate), and of course no one doesn't like "A Kiss to Build a Dream On." The floor was jam-packed for that tune.

Eventually it came time for the Pi Kappa Phi sweetheart song, something I was looking forward to and yet a little scared of at the same time. Months ago I had realized that even if all the Pi Kapps came, that'd only be five guys, none of whom are ever 100% sure of the words or melody at any given time (although I admit they always rise to the occasion), and as the response cards came in, I knew there was a problem. I was able to get a recording from the national chapter, which I figured I could have the DJ play very softly for them to sing along with, but the recording was really awful. I decided to transcribe the song, adding the harmony my dad always sang, and a bass line while I was at it, and ask some of the musicians at the wedding to join in as a backup. The last time I talked to my dad he mentioned how the sweetheart song might be a little hedgy with only him, Dick, and John, and when I told him my plan, he said "Ringers! Thank goodness! We'll make them honorary brothers for the occasion. But if they try to haze freshmen the next day, we'll have none of it!" John was clearly against it (and the ringers themselves weren't too confident), but I insisted, and the bride always gets what she wants.

When I was filling out the DJ's forms, I considered whether I'd have to warn him about the possibility of Bunny Hop requests. Had I listed it, I would have said "to be played only if requested by David or Uncle Bob, and to be led by David." But since he's a DJ on Cape Cod, he came prepared, and since Greg's family is reliably traditional, David led without anyone having to mention it.

As it got darker and cooler (and for some, buggier), I took off the lace overdress and put on a silly white cotton motorcycle jacket. Tadd Russo, the s'mores NCO, had someone light a fire, and the party started moving beyond the tent, lured by marshmallows. Greg and I returned to the dance floor for the last dance, which I'd picked based on the lyrics, not conceptualizing that I'd actually have to dance to it. Louis Prima's "Buona Sera" actually manages to be too fast to dance to AND too slow to dance to. It probably didn't help that I'd changed into sandals, either. Once the DJ had packed up, Jake brought out a guitar, and we hung out by the fire for a bit before changing clothes and going back to the Bradford.

Photos by Elizabeth Horne

One Month Ago: June 22, 2007

The two biggest tasks for Friday were to pick up the license and the tux. The license had to be sent back for a correction, since I was not, in fact, born in 2007, but otherwise the process was quick and painless.

It was not until we were walking out of the tux rental place, Alan and Jeff in tow, that I realized I had tagged along on what should have been a testosterone-filled coming-of-age male bonding experience. In fact, given the schedule, Friday afternoon was really Greg's last chance at any kind of bachelor party type event, and here I was, the wet blanket, ruining everything. By way of apology, I picked up the tab for lunch. I still feel bad about that.

Greg made another chocolate sauce before we packed up and moved to the Bradford, a very nice hotel just down the street, where we would be staying the next two nights. I immediately set the TV to the Weather Channel, since the reports for Saturday had been all over the place, and I wanted to know what to expect. The first report, the previous week, had been a 60% chance of rain, so we had 20 dollar-store umbrellas available, and Greg's parents had a tremendously elaborate rain plan. As the date neared, though, the forecast was getting better and better.

Next up, we showered, shaved, and headed out to the Welcome Party, the first official event of the wed-stravaganza. Hosted by Greg's parents at the very classy (and desirably located) Chatham Beach and Tennis Club, it had four different zones of activity. Out back, overlooking the tennis courts and the beach, groups of our friends and family talked and drank until the weather briefly turned on them. On the rear patio, a bartender served cranberry margaritas, as well as wine, beer, and sodas; at the other end, there was a beautiful cheese assortment. On the side patio, folks sat and ate while catching up and enjoying the view. Inside, there was a big pot of chowder on one wall, and an assortment of wrap sandwiches on another. Greg's mom had collected a variety of brochures and other travel information, which was displayed with the little one-page information sheet I'd thrown together for out of town guests, and Greg's dad (with some fiddling from Jeff) had assembled a video presentation of our early years, with photos I'd submitted, along with shots from Greg's newly-discovered baby book.

Throughout the evening, we were happy to see natural, comfortable interaction between people who had never met before that night. Madi's boyfriend, who knew no one but Madi, was trading pop culture references with Greg's friends from undergrad, while a friend of mine from work discoursed at length with one of Greg's uncles. That, I think, was the sign of a successful party.

Afterward, the three guys I'd roped into being ringers for the Pi Kappa Phi sweetheart song followed us back to Cedar Street to get the music, as well as unload all the wedding-day booze from Al's trunk. Unfortunately, we were a little too quick in getting there, since Greg and I didn't bring keys. We stacked the booze in front of the garage until someone let us in, then I fished out the music I'd transcribed for the song and handed it out to Tadd, Al, and Jake; on request, I sang through it once, too, before we scuttled off to the Bradford.

Pedometer count (since I have it): 8071

One Month Ago: June 21, 2007

Thursday, we went off Cape. Can you believe it? Two days before the wedding and we just left people to think for themselves? Madness.

Plimoth Plantation happened to be celebrating a betrothal in their 1647 Dutch/English settlement, and we thought the coincidence of events was too good to miss. We wandered through the native settlement, then went back to the visitor center to get some lunch (had a neat sandwichy thing called a pease cod) and meet up with Alan and Steph. Somehow, apparently, they'd gotten the impression that our betrothal was happening in the 1647 settlement, so watching strangers instead was a great disappointment for them. We hung out in the yard of the bride-to-be's family home, eating strawberries and spice cake, and singing psalms, while Greg fielded wedding questions on my traditional seventeenth-century cell phone in a nearby garden.

Alan and Steph split off to check out the native settlement and head out, while we spent some more time wandering around the colonists' town. The blue sky set off the gray buildings so beautifully, I took entirely too many pictures. Later, a kid who had clearly worked at Plimoth before started singing along with the psalms, and even requesting a few of his favorites; his shorts and t-shirt looked a lot more comfortable than the layers the others had on.

When we got back to Cedar Street, the tent was up in the back yard, the port-a-potty was tastefully hidden behind it, and it was actually starting to look as though a wedding might take place. At the Simpsons' for dinner—our first without margaritas - we met Martin and Judy West, the hands-down winner of the "longest journey" award. The Wests had come all the way from England for our wedding, and they made themselves very useful the whole weekend by watering and weeding around the yard, and by videotaping every event.

After dinner, Hannah correctly identified the moon. Hundreds and hundreds of times.

One Month Ago: June 20, 2007

Gentle reader, when you decide to get custom-printed pencils for an event, and you are given the opportunity to have them pre-sharpened for three cents apiece, do it. Virtually all of Wednesday was spent trying to find an office supply store to get a pencil sharpener. Also on the list: some kind of semi-interesting mold to make giant ice cubes for the cocktail hour jars, found at [the second] Christmas Tree Shops for cheap, and inexplicably elusive fishing line for the ribbon project. I had every opportunity to buy it in Maryland, but figured why drive it up when it's surely something common on the Cape. Do people not fish on the Cape? Do they not play April Fool's Day pranks involving large-denomination bills lying suspiciously on the sidewalk? Eventually, fishing line was acquired at a tiny Ace Hardware, minutes before it closed. Fortunately, Greg asked "is that going to be enough?" before we'd driven off, because of course it wasn't; I ran back in and got three more spools.

At the Woods' for Marion's chicken pie, the daily margarita testing was preceded by a vodka tasting. Buffering our stomachs with snacks, we threw back one Russian vodka and one cranberry Smirnoff each. Sue didn't fare well. After the margaritas, neither did I. Tonight's tasting was Ron versus Jeff; I forget the crucial difference (I believe it involved sour mix), but Ron won unanimously. Not surprising, given that it was his fourth attempt and only Jeff's first.

One Month Ago: June 19, 2007

Tuesday morning we walked to the town offices on Main Street to apply for a marriage license. This was literally the last day we could apply, so I was a little concerned about how it would go. There was a lot of information on the website, but never anything about bringing, say, a birth certificate or anything; as it turned out, it's because we didn't need to. As the assistant clerk checked over the two cursory forms we had filled out, we tried not to laugh at the list of illegal marriages posted on the wall: it started with basic stuff, like marrying your sister or your daughter, and moved on down the line to things like marrying your grandson's daughter. Ew.

We went back to Cedar Street for the car, then dropped the gown off to be pressed. The pizza place in the same shopping center had awesome steak and cheese sandwiches, so we ate there while fielding phone calls adding to our shopping list. We picked up rum punch ingredients at the liquor store, and stuff for the other cocktail hour jars at the Stop 'n' Shop.

That evening, the Simpsons came over for dinner, where we tried Greg's first attempt at chocolate sauce for the cake (a no-go), and the third round of cranberry margaritas. Apparently Greg's dad had been experimenting with a variety of recipes for Friday's Welcome Party, and now that Jeff was home, he had been looking for more recipes online. No one was terribly impressed with this iteration until Greg Howard doubled the tequila.

One Month Ago: June 18, 2007

My little notebook for June 18 just says "11:00 pick up car @ Hertz; drove up, arr. 1:15 am," but there was a lot more to that day. Once we got the car, I made a last minute craft store visit, as required by all brides (as far as I can tell from the internet), and we grabbed lunch at Baja Fresh. Once home, Greg started loading suitcases and wedding stuff into the car, while I made memorial candle mock-ups for his approval. By the time we actually got on the road, it was 3:00. Rather than surf the outer ends of the radio spectrum for NPR stations as we usually do, we amused ourselves by reading to each other. That stopped me from staring into the middle distance and crying, so that was good. We slowed our progress by trying to find interesting places to eat in suburban New York before giving up and eating in Connecticut like sane people.

That "arr. 1:15 am" part is right, though.

July 18, 2007

Well, the good news is, we're apparently receiving mail again. Greg, for example, got two credit card offers today. The bad news is, anything that was sent to us in the last month or so was returned undeliverable. And the bonus bad news is that the condolences address we listed for Penny in the June 10 section is five years out of date, so anything sent there will also be returned undeliverable. We're just having bad luck with mail. We should reiterate, though, that we have not moved, and we're not avoiding you, and anything you would like to send us, as of today, should actually arrive as normal.

Now back to good news: in addition to the professional photos (password=chatham), a few pictures have been added to Sarah's Kodak Gallery page, mostly courtesy of Sarah's cousin Cathy. We'd like to take this opportunity to mention that if you've got photos you're willing to share, we're keen to see them. And we know more people brought cameras, because we can see you in others' snapshots. Nowhere to run to, baby.

Also, to stall you while we collect and upload other photos, check out the great new Puzzles page--home of crossword answers and new quizzes.

July 15, 2007

Well, the honeymoon is over, in the most literal sense. We returned from Copenhagen via Reykjavik last night, having visited London, Oslo, Gdansk, Saint Petersburg, Helsinki, Stockholm, Tallinn, Visby, and Lubeck along the way. We're nowhere near having photos posted yet, but here are some we know of:

Beyond that, the most important thing we have to say is the mailing address you have for us is probably right. We're not dumb enough to just post it right here on the internet, but suffice to say if you've sent something in the mail to the address from which your wedding invitation was sent, and it came back to you undeliverable, it has something to do with the hold mail order we put in for the honeymoon. Sarah has a great and glorious history of somehow screwing up this very simple half-page form (once resulting in the mailman dropping two bins of mail in front of her apartment door and yelling "Anderson! Where the hell you been?!"), so that's surely the reason. We should be able to get it all squared away early next week, so if you have a one-month-iversary card you're itching to send, that should be fine.

Speaking of one-month-iversaries, Sarah's current plan is to post wedding and honeymoon stuff a month after it happened, for two reasons. First, if you're a frequent visitor to the site, you can pretend you're getting the information as it happens. Second, it keeps us from feeling we have to put everything up all at once. So if the next post seems to be a month old, now you know why.

June 15, 2007

Our trip to Illinois was exhausting but reassuring. It seems almost ridiculously trite to say that going ahead with the wedding is "what he would have wanted," but it's the absolute truth. He'd given us a lot of crap about the fact that we were making him wear a tux, but we found out at the wake that he'd been gloating about it to all his friends (probably because it meant he didn't have to think about what to wear). Almost immediately after the proposal, Dad started signing his emails "Father of the Bride," so when we found socks that said that, they were an obviously perfect gift. Yesterday, he was laid to rest wearing them.

It's now the calm between two storms, if there is such a phrase. To all of you who we saw in Illinois or who expressed sympathy in other ways, thank you. To all of you who will be joining us in Massachusetts, we look forward to celebrating this cheerier life transition with you.

June 10, 2007

We've received some terrible news.

At about 11:30, we got a phone call from Sarah's Aunt Carol. She let us know that Sarah's dad and his wife Penny were in a severe car crash, and Sarah's dad died.

We're not sure what's going to happen right now; we're just trying to grasp everything. We'll post more information as it comes.

UPDATE

Wednesday, June 13, there will be a wake from 6-9 p.m. at Burkhardt Funeral Home
606 E. Arnold St.
Sandwich, IL 60548

Thursday, June 14, there will be a visitation from 9-11 a.m. at Salem Lutheran Church
1022 N. Main St.
Sandwich, IL 60548

The funeral service will be at 11 at Salem, followed by a luncheon.

Following this, we will travel to Memory Gardens on Euclid Avenue in Arlington Heights for interment.

The issue he felt most strongly about was organ and tissue donation. If you are already a registered donor and wish to make a contribution in his memory, please visit Donate Life. If you are not a registered donor, please consider becoming one; information is also on the Donate Life website.

Contributions may also be made to the American Cancer Society or the national charity of Pi Kappa Phi fraternity, Push America.

Condolences may be sent to Penny Anderson
c/o Rhonda Mack
2143 Mallard Lane
Hanover Park, IL 60133

Update 2

To view his obituary and sign the guest book, please click here.

May 18, 2007

We're coming up on the one-month mark! Time to do a little website updating. Greg's dad got tired of the snow-covered house photo on the Events page, and supplied us with something more seasonally appropriate. Symmonie is forgiven for never sending us a better picture of her, since she keeps us supplied with pictures of her brand new baby, Tallulah Grace.

Chatham was recently named one of the National Trust for Historic Preservation "Dozen Distinctive Destinations" (as were Providence, RI, and Woodstock, IL). You should have lots of time on Saturday morning to see the sights—just make sure you don't stray too far from the ceremony location! Sarah suggests parking at Oyster Pond around lunchtime, eating in town, and going for a bit of a wander before heading back to the Clarks. Sensible shoes are welcome at the wedding for this very reason—well, that and the fact that fancy high heels will only serve to aerate the lawn.

As has been a bit of a pattern with these periodic updates, we've found yet another lodging website for you. Bed & Breakfast Cape Cod, Inc. is a reservation service for 150 small inns across the Cape. It's not the prettiest site out there, but by golly it does its job. We do again exhort you to check out the absurd deals at massvacation.com. They're big enough discounts that they may mean the difference between coming to the wedding and not coming to the wedding.

April 19, 2007

The Massachusetts Office of Travel and Tourism just alerted us to these mad crazy hotel deals! So mad crazy, Sarah refused to believe it at first.

And while you're saving money, please note that response cards sent after May 14 will require an additional two cents postage. We didn't plan it that way, but it sure is a great incentive to respond early, huh?

April 9, 2007

Well, the big countdown clock says 75 days! To celebrate, we've added a little pre-wedding quiz for you to test your knowledge of the bride and groom. You won't be un-invited if you score low, but we might give you a bad seat at the reception.

The current planning theme is Legal Niceties: getting a permit for the tent, figuring out when to get a license, and applying for permission to use out-of-state clergy. We think that's all...

March 25, 2007

This weekend we returned to the site of Greg's former triumphs, the American Crossword Puzzle Tournament, where in 2006 he got himself a trophy and a fiancee. This year was Sarah's turn to win the same trophy: Third Place in the E Division, also known as third-best of the worst. This bumps her up into the D division with Greg, never to be heard from again.

The anniversary of the proposal also indicates there are three months remaining until the wedding. Response cards are starting to come back, so we know at least four people will be there.

Real Simple magazine's special travel issue has a well-timed feature on finding lodging.

Hotels:

B&Bs and Inns: House Rentals: Don't forget the local rental agencies:

February 23, 2007

Southwest Airlines is now accepting reservations for June. As one of the largest carriers to Providence, there are several flights daily, typically from the smaller airport in a given area (Midway, for Sarah's family, and Hobby, for Greg's Houston posse). If you prefer to fly into Boston, you may be able to find reasonable rates on AirTran.

Sarah fully intends to have the invitations in the mail by mid-March, but we all know where good intentions can lead you. In the meantime, check out the newly-updated Event page for marginally more detailed information than was there previously.

February 8, 2007

The 2007 Cape Cod Baseball League schedule has been released, and the Chatham A's have home games on Friday, June 22 (versus the Harwich Mariners) and Saturday, June 23 (hosting the Falmouth Commodores), both starting at 7 pm. "Wooden bat league" baseball is just about the best little slice of Americana a person can stand, and we won't be hurt if you sneak out of concurrent wedding events to catch a few innings. Not too many, though, or you'll be overcome by the quaintness.

With the possible exception of flowers, all of the big wedding and reception plans are in place, so it's time to obsess about little things. Hooray! Actually, the current project is arranging the ceremony music, which is no small thing, so when music burnout sets in, fussing about ribbon widths and such makes for a nice change.

Since last we updated this section, Greg has made honeymoon reservations for a two-week cruise around the Baltic Sea. Leaving from Dover, we'll visit Oslo, Gdansk, St. Petersburg, Helsinki, Stockholm, Tallinn, Visby, Warnemunde (a port city between Hamburg and Berlin), and Copenhagen. The Field Band has graciously changed its schedule all summer to accommodate us (and to send the band to the prestigious Edinburgh Military Tattoo, but we'll keep thinking it was for us).

December 30, 2006

We returned from Christmas at the Cape having made a reasonable dent in our wedding to-do list. Greg's got a tux, the wedding party has somewhere to stay, and once we send the deposit, there'll be a cake.

We also learned that going to Cape Cod Mall two days after Christmas is a terrible, terrible idea. You probably knew that already.

Our site leans toward vague information on housing, simply because there's such a vast selection, we don't want to thrust anything on anyone. However, here's where the attendants are staying: The Tern Inn and Cottages in West Harwich, about nine miles from the ceremony and reception. As a point of reference, the cottages range from $800 to $1295 a week, the largest sleeping six. They're all freshly renovated and tremendously cute, and when you tire of the pool and playground, it's only three blocks to the beach. There are also a few guest rooms available at $129-$179 a night including breakfast, although we have reserved the majority. Oh, and the common room has a baby grand.

Ah, but lest we get too specific, here's yet another B&B search site!

December 21, 2006

We learned a few things on our brief but busy pre-Christmas visit to Illinois, foremost of which is we apparently don't update our website enough! The most popular questions are sure to recur, so we've finally broken down and added a Frequently Asked Questions page for easy reference.

As planning goes, we're clicking along fairly steadily. No florist yet, and no cake. Otherwise fine. The dress is here, in a box, in the bathtub of the guest bedroom. It was blocking the stairs for a long time, so this is an improvement. We tell you this not because we're proud of having a wedding gown in our bathtub, but so that come next June, when we have no idea where we put it, virtually everyone we know will be able to remind us.

A new Lindy Hop class starts soon! We're looking forward to seeing a bunch of people there.

November 11, 2006

Here's a new lodging idea source: weddingchannel.com, which we weren't using for anything else, has a great search engine that uses Sabre, the exact same system your professional travel agent would be using.

November 3, 2006

On Friday, November 17 at 7:30 pm, join us in Walkersville for a lesson on the Jitterbug Stroll, one of two swing-based line dances likely to appear at our wedding reception. Lindy Hoppers Unlimited classes never require you to come with a partner, but you especially don't need one for this! Visit lindylink.com for information and directions.

Classes in Severna Park are on Tuesday evenings at 7:15 (for beginners); a short 6-week session begins November 7, and the next normal 8-week session begins January 2 (and ends before spring tour, bandies). You know you want to.

October 21, 2006

The wedding planning having made us totally self-absorbed, we managed to neglect to send cards for any of our parents' birthdays. Thus, belatedly, Happy Birthday Mom, Dad, and Dad.

The new photo on the main page is our official engagement photo, taken by Aunt Sue in her backyard. You can tell it's official because Greg shaved and Sarah's wearing makeup.

The wedding shoes have arrived, eliminating another perfectly valid excuse for not dress-shopping.

Sarah found an additional site for bed & breakfast searches; see the lodging page for more info.

August 1, 2006

The combination clambake and wedding-planning trip, while not the smooth sailing Sarah had hoped for, was reasonably successful. Photos are here. The three identical shots near the end are the engagement photo, set up for three different aspect ratios, for your convenience.

An exciting new event has been added: the Clarks are hosting a Welcome Party on Friday evening, for all of the out-of-town guests...which is just about everyone. Although the Chatham Band season probably won't start until the following Friday, there may well be a home game of the local Cape Cod Baseball League team, the Chatham A's.

The biggest concern is still lodging. See right below this, in the previous update, where we mentioned that renting a house might make more sense? That's still true. Word on the street is Chatham is a renter's market, if there is such a phrase. We visited a house with a water view, that sleeps four, that cost $1800 a week; devotees of our lodging page will note how that compares to the Chatham Bars rate. But seriously, folks, do consider the rental option. Links are on the lodging page.

July 18, 2006

Well, the save-the-dates went out, and the word's coming back that many local hotels are already booked. Imagine what it'd be like if the wedding were in Cape Cod's serious tourist season!

Rather than spend an evening fruitlessly phoning one small hotel after another, try searching at larger chains' websites to cover multiple properties in one go.

We're also noticing that on a per-person per-night basis, the house renting option may be significantly cheaper.

June 23, 2006

We celebrated our Negative One Anniversary with dinner at Fogo de Chao, thanks to Jeff and Kirsten. The bar has now been set for our positiveanniversaries. No pressure.

June 18, 2006

The day after Sarah's well-catered (by Greg) birthday party, we attended a showing of Wordplay, a documentary about crosswords you should see as soon as you can. Sarah won a copy of the companion book, and while getting it signed by Will Shortz, took advantage of a photo op.

Inspired by memories of the tournament, Sarah added the story of Greg's proposal to the FAQ page.

June 3, 2006

Scout party's brochures arrive at the same time as the AAA guide, resulting in massive updates to Lodging page. Sarah's increasing abilities in both HTML and delegating mean she can code while Greg cleans. Mild bitterness ensues, but is ignored.

May 26, 2006

Check out Sarah's wedding-related photos!

May 21, 2006

We bought Greg's ring! More hotel information coming soon.

May 7, 2006

We put the page up!