Yesterday, I wrote briefly about how busy we are, but how much we enjoyed a brief weekend sojourn at Chico Hot Springs Resort, near Pray, Montana.

We attended the weddin’ of lovely friends, Marta and Jeremy.

And y’all know how much I like weddins – planning them, attending them, rehashing them.  I would do my own weddin’ over again every summer … but then Honeydew would divorce me, so that plan is undermined.  Sigh.

To me, if you’re going to the trouble to have a wedding, then you ought to trouble yourself with the details, those little touches that make a wedding unique to the bethrothed couple.

Chico offers several on site wedding venues, including the Field Of Dreams, above, situated with a stunning view of Emigrant Peak.

The Bride was beautiful in white, and Maggie was fascinated by her.

Maggie was beautiful, too, in a blue dress my Grandma Betty smocked for me about 31 years ago.

The reception hall was gorgeous, and the tables were adorned with luscious hot pink and screaming orange flower arrangements, and Glacier County Honey Co. wedding favors, too.  These darling little squeeze top bottles contain a half pound of the best honey you’ve never tasted, and we’ve decided to launch them on our website, for everyone to enjoy.

Our retail line of these bottles will not include darling pink ribbons, but if you’re a bride looking for sweet favors, we’ll be happy to adorn them for you in the color of your choice.  Just get in touch with us for the details!

Congratulations to the happy couple, and thanks so much for offering our honey to your guests!

2011.  Glacier County Honey Co.  All Rights Reserved.

As my mom said when I sent her the link, I’m not sure I’d ever have the patience to deal with all the steps required to assemble these darling honeybee cake pops, but if I did, would I be eligible for Beekeeper Mom of the Year?

Photo courtesy of Bakerella

Cake pops, for those not in the know, are essentially absurdly delectable bits of ultra rich cake dipped in candy coating, presented on a lollipop stick.  Here, the fabulous Bakerella used white candy melts for the bees’ wings, but if Patience and I ever got together for the day, then I would substitute slivered almonds, with a nod to the almond/beekeeping industry that Glacier County Honey Co. is a part of.

When Honeydew and I were married, our dear friend Margaret Ambrose-Barton made our weddin’ cake (truly, the best weddin’ cake I have ever tasted: lemon chardonnay cake, with layers of fresh blackberries, topped off with decadent buttercream frosting), and accented it with a few almond-winged marzipan honeybees.  Wasn’t it fabulous?

Anyway, Bakerella’s site fascinates me – y’all go check out her amazing sugar creations at www.bakerella.com.

Thirty five years ago today, my parents were married at the prettiest little church in the world, Fair Haven, near Millen, Georgia.

On that day they stood and repeated their vows in front of family and close friends, they could not know that thirty five years later, they would celebrate their anniversary with Montana drivers licenses in their wallets.  I’d love to say, “what a long, strange trip it’s been,” but they’re not Grateful Dead fans.

Mr. and Mrs. Stone are more Gladys Knight & the Pips kind of folks.  In honor of their anniversary, I’m posting the lyrics to “their song,” along with some of my favorite pictures of them.

You’re The Best Thing That Ever Happened To Me

I’ve had my share of life’s ups and downs
But fate’s been kind, the downs have been few
I guess you could say that I’ve been lucky
Well, I guess you could say that it’s all because of you 

If anyone should ever write my life story
For whatever reason there might be
Ooh, you’ll be there between each line of pain and glory
‘Cause you’re the best thing that ever happened to me
Ah, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me

Oh, there have been times when times were hard
But always somehow I made it, I made it through
‘Cause for every moment that I’ve spent hurting
There was a moment that I spent, ah, just loving you

If anyone should ever write my life story
For whatever reason there might be
Oh, you’ll be there between each line of pain and glory
‘Cause you’re the best thing that ever happened to me
Oh, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me
I know, you’re the best thing, oh, that ever happened to me

 

Hillhouse, December 2008, below zero temps.

St. Simons Island, Georgia, 2005.

Sunset at The Lodge, St. Simons Island, Georgia, 2005.

Chatmoss Ball, Martinsville, Virginia, 2006.

Dawson Pass, Glacier National Park, Montana, 2007.

Above Babb Flats, Montana, 2005.

Red Meadow Lake, near Polebridge, Montana, 2005.

Colorado River Trip, Grand Canyon, 2004.

Post Floral Park, at Comeau Pass, Glacier National Park, Montana, 2007 – only ten miles to go at 5pm!

And this, my favorite picture of them, in the judge’s stand at the Polebridge 4th of July parade. Polebridge, Montana, 2005.

Mom and Dad, here’s to 35 more!

2010.  Glacier County Honey Co. All Rights Reserved.

This post marks the last of the weddin’ tomes, as today is our first wedding anniversary.  Our dear friend Torian Donohoe married us, and in her remarks to us, she said this about wedding anniversaries:

Each year when you come upon your anniversary, I encourage you to rededicate yourselves to the vows you make here today.  Take stock of where you are in your marriage and how you are doing as marriage partners.  Express your gratitude to each other, for the ways that you have effectively loved and supported one another, and forgive yourselves and each other for any judgments that have come between you.

I choose you to be my beloved

to have and to hold

from this day forward,

for better, for worse

for richer, for poorer,

in sickness and in health,

to love and to cherish,

to honor and sustain,

and to be true to you in all things.

I vow to always love you for who you are and to accept the changes that life brings.

Until death do us part, this is my solemn vow.

Happy anniversary, Honeydew!

And now, back to beekeeping, peak bagging, and doing whatever it is we do near Babb, Montana.

2010.  Glacier County Honey Co.  Photo credits to Tom Whisenand.  All Rights Reserved.

I predicted earlier this week that I would lose all of my male subscribers by indulging in a week’s worth of weddin’ posts.  I was right.  So far, we’ve lost one subscriber, presumably male!  But hang in there guys, there are just two posts left before I return to blathering on about beekeeping and Babb, Montana – plus, today’s post might appeal to the men out there, as it features the get-away “car” that Brother Dear arranged for us, and gunpowder!

This is Tammy, our old Ford Explorer.  Not much is known about Tammy’s youth, but in her middle age, she was acquired by Jay Franck, a good friend of ours who also happens to be Glacier County Honey’s web designer, and who came up with our fabulous logo.  Before Jay was an amazing print and web designer, he was a waiter at Johnson’s of St. Mary, just down the road from Hillhouse, and he owned Tammy.  As a Johnson’s employee, Jay lived on top of a very steep hill, with an absurdly steep driveway.  One morning, he emerged from his cabin to take Tammy for a spin.  Next thing he knew, he was rocketing backwards down the hill, heading directly for the restaurant!  Panicked, Jay jumped out of Tammy, and Tammy crashed into the restaurant, where Brother Dear happened to be frying bacon on the line, at the height of the breakfast rush.  Amazingly enough, no one was significantly injured during this incident, except Tammy.

Tammy ain’t got no back end no mo.

Tammy ain’t got no side windows, neither.

So Jay approached Brother Dear about taking Tammy in, giving her a restful environment in which to spend her golden years.  Tammy is officially retired from the paved roads of Montana, but she’s great on the dirt roads of Hillhouse, and she provided a mighty festive exit for Honeydew and I after our weddin’ reception!

Miss Bets also provided Honeydew and I with a fabulous exit – as a surprise to us, she set off beautiful firecrackers as we left the reception.  Earlier this week, I wrote about how much fun Miss Bets is, and I think you can see from this beautiful display that she is incredibly thoughtful, too.  Plannin’ a good Montana weddin’ takes a village.  And a backless Ford Explorer!

2010.  Glacier County Honey Co.  Some photo credits to Tom Whisenand.  All Rights Reserved.

Another day of posts from our wedding last summer … have I lost all of my male readers yet?

In reflection, under the arbor Brother Dear built for us, complete with grapevine from the farm in Virginia and the moose Antler of Love that Honeydew gave me when I knew he was serious about me.

LA catching the bouquet!  She was engaged just weeks later.

Lemon chardonnay weddin’ cake, accented by marzipan bees with almond wings, made by my dear friend Margaret Ambrose-Barton of The Pearl in Missoula, Montana.  I’ve never tasted better cake.

My dad welcoming our guests, and toasting to Honeydew and I.

Flowers at the gate.

We offered our fabulous honey as favors.

And sweet produce treats, too.

And at the end of the night we rocked out to the Broken Valley Roadshow’s high octane bluegrass version of Bon Jovi’s Livin’ On a Prayer.

I wish we could go back and do that night again.  But not all the work preceding it!

2010.  Glacier County Honey Co.  All Rights Reserved.

In college, I was often told that I’m a guy’s kind of girl.  But I’m pretty sure that was just code speak for “she’ll skip class to go fishing/go to the game/go hiking/go to Son’s/go skeet shooting/go porch sitting and drink cold beer.”  And I do have several close male friends that I treasure.  I have no sisters, and only one female cousin.  I have four uncles.  I have never owned a female dog or horse.  I have two quasi-godfathers.  It is generally true that I am comfortable around males of several species.

But as much as I like boys, I like cold beer better, so I think my college friends were mistaken about me being a guy’s kind of gal.   Especially since I like my girlfriends even more than I like cold beer.  I like my girlfriends so much that when I became engaged, my biggest headache wasn’t the cocktail napkins for the wedding (which we did not have), but how to honor all the women in my life who have held my hand, held my hair back, and helped me hold onto my sense of self in the best of times, and the worst, on my wedding day.

Luckily, I was not the only affianced Southern woman who ever had the lovely problem of having so many close girlfriends that to ask them all to be bridesmaids would make a mockery of the wedding.  Being Southern, I knew I had the option of having The House Party.  What is The House Party, you ask?  Just that wonderful group of women who mean the absolute world to the Bride, so much so that she would not dream of asking them to purchase a chartreuse bridesmaid gown and dyed-to-match shoes.  The Bride will leave those horrid tasks to her actual attendants, whom she is certain love her so much that she will be forgiven.  Rather, the House Party serves as a cadre of honorary bridesmaids, although the Bride may still have formal attendants, as I did.  People make fun of House Parties, but I say if you’re lucky enough to have girlfriends this good, why in the world wouldn’t you want them with you on your wedding day?  I think the naysayers are just jealous.  And they should be – how fabulous was my House Party?

Here a few of ‘em, preparing for the wedding – Becky, a founding member of the Hot Buns and my favorite co-worker at the Depot in Missoula, Montana, is to the far left, followed by Kestergill, Layla Jane, Miss Bets, and Michy.  Becky has roots in East Glacier, and our shared love for Glacier brings us back together, no matter where we may be in our lives.

I met Layla Jane, center, in 2000.  She is also a founding member of the Hot Buns.  She is Southern, so we have a love of grits and greens and heat in common, but over the years, our friendship has grown far beyond our shared drawl and become something that I cannot imagine my life without.  Layla Jane has the kind of clarity that living well brings you – she is not shy to tell it like it is, even when what it is breaks your heart.  And she never shies away from seizing joy, either.  I admire her in many ways, and there is no one I’d rather hike with.

Here is the House Party gathering together for their walk down the aisle.

Dr. Deer and Miss Bets made a pretty pair.

Dr. Deer and I became close friends in the summer of 2002, when she began dating my good friend Jeff and bartending at Charlie’s in Babb.  We lived together up at Chief Mountain junction that fall, and my future husband drove past our A-frame each day as he traveled to Cardston, Canada, for his senior year of high school, though of course I did not know that at the time.  That same fall, Dr. Deer began filling out her medical school applications, and she and I talked of dreams beyond $200 tip nights.  She is a treasure in my life, though we see each other very infrequently.

I met Miss Bets at a party in Whitefish in the winter of 2002-2003, when I was a ski bum at the Big Mountain.  She was my first friend in Missoula, a town I found intimidating when I first moved there.  Miss Bets introduced me to the wonders of a river, and that love affair changed me forever.  I am no longer allowed to go to Trout Unlimited banquets with Miss Bets!

The House Party did not stand with me, as House Parties don’t do that.  Here, Kestergill, Michy, and LA, are seated just behind my family.

Kestergill is a founding member of the Hot Buns – I have known her since the summer of 2000, when she worked at Rising Sun, in Glacier National Park, and I worked at St. Mary.  Kestergill has the longest resume of anyone I know and I would never have learned to ski without her insistent, though gentle, encouragement.  She also throws the best potlucks in Missoula, Montana, and is the kind of friend who is calm in an emergency and a live wire at a dance party.  She just rocks.

LA and JC, two of my Atlanta Belles, exiting the ceremony.  Love JC’s feather headband!

JC is an artist that I originally met through Clowerpower, and kindness radiates from her.  I have never once had an even borderline mediocre time with JC – she knows how to dance with cacti, how to travel with a casserole, and how to blow out hair, which came in handy on my wedding day!  LA was the first friend I made at Tri Delta, my college sorority, and our friendship grows deeper with every long distance phone conversation – and they are frequent.   LA caught the bouquet at my reception, and I take full credit for her resulting marriage to the darling Bo Cheek.

Miss Bets, Kestergill, and Michy.  The year I fell in love with cross country skiing, I also fell in love with Michy.  She is always game for a day on the skinny skis, and she wouldn’t dream of ending such a day without a fabulous dinner party, often involving her famous champagne risotto.  Michy is a school teacher, a Hot Bun, and a riot.

Clowerpower, Becky, Dhall, and the Q – I love the look on Dhall’s face!   I went to law school with Dhall and the Q, and I would not have survived my brother’s death without their love and support.  We are The Livers, and no three girls have ever had more fun together in Nashville, Tennessee, than we did one weekend in 2007, in matching strapless madras dresses.  You had to be there!

Clowerpower and Becky.  I’ve written about Clowerpower before on this blog – her parents and my mother went to high school together, and encouraged Clowerpower and I to be freshman roommates at the University of Georgia.  Athens has never been the same, nor has my definition of true friendship, especially not after we traveled to Glacier together in 2000.

I asked my House Party to wear brown dresses and cowboy boots, preferably that they already owned or could borrow.  Other than that, I left their attire up to them, and I loved how their personalities shown through the dresses they chose, and how each one of them seemed so comfortable.  Don’t they all look darling?

From left to right: Becky, Dr. Deer, Kestergill, Layla Jane, Michy, LA, me, JC, Clowerpower, Dhall, the Q, and Miss Bets.  Not pictured is my precious cousin, Brooke, who was unable to attend the weddin’ – we missed you, honey.

I don’t believe a Bride ever loved her House Party more than I did.  Ladies, thank you for making my wedding day so very special.  Love y’all.

If you’re a Bride agonizing over the mental image of 12 of your best friends standing next to the altar in lime green, consider a House Party – I don’t think you could ever regret including those you love, who’ve been important to you at all different stages in your life, in your wedding.  After all, they helped to make you the person your husband fell in love with, did they not?  Cheers to the House Party!

2010.  Glacier County Honey Co.  Again, some photo credits to our wonderful wedding photographer, Tom Whisenand.  All Rights Reserved.

Sorting through the afternoon mail, I came across several cards addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Honeydew, and I paused.  Why would my lovely grandmother Ivey and Honeydew’s mother both be writing to us?  Had we been bad newlyweds?  Had we neglected a thank you note for some kind action of theirs?

And then it dawned on me.  Next week, we will no longer be newlyweds – my grandmother and my mother-in-law were both writing to congratulate Honeydew and I on one year of marriage, this coming Sunday.  We’ve nearly outlasted 90% of Hollywood marriages!  A celebration is definitely in order.

So, at the risk of losing all of my male readers, I am going to do several posts on our weddin’ this week, as putting it together with my mom, my aunt, and my grandma Betty was simultaneously one of the most joyous and and awful tasks I’ve ever dealt with.  Honeydew and I were married at home, and we did nearly everything for our wedding ourselves.  And by that I mean that we gave Honeydew marching orders and Dad the invoices and Mom, Pseudo Sister, Sissy, Grandma Betty and I obsessed over every detail for six full months.  Here are a few:

Here I am with my sister-in-law bridesmaid, left, and my very best friend in the world, my matron of honor.   Look closely at my bouquet to see the something old – I am carrying my great-grandmother’s sterling silver card case, and in it, photos of my beloved Pa Pa, and my darling brother Howard, both of whom passed away prior to my marriage.

Something new – Honeydew bought me custom cowboy boots with my new monogram.

Something borrowed – I wore my mom’s beautiful wedding hat, that she wore when she married my dad in the fall of 1975.

And something blue – mom also lent me her gorgeous sapphire ring, on my third finger.

More weddin’ details to come – I know you boys can’t wait!

2010.  Glacier County Honey Co.  All Rights Reserved.

Half of our 80 x 120′ steel building arrived yesterday!  As a result, it was all hands on deck around here – Honeydew taught Darling Summer Help how to drive the forklift on the fly while Honeydew learned to drive some other forklift-on-steroids-contraption on the fly, and together (with my supervision and some assistance from the big rig driver) they got all the pieces of the building off the truck in one piece.  That took a while, and took some serious energy.  So at 12:30, I walked home to fix everyone lunch.  Good decision.

I got to walk past the Little Field, where Honeydew and I were married.

Is it not gorgeous?  Did you ever think dandelions could cause you to catch your breath, and reflect on the beauty of the commonplace, to this degree?

Last summer, I walked down the center of this field on my dad’s arm, laughing and joking with him about this walk being the longest, and hardest, of all the hikes we’ve taken together.  And of course, I walked back up the center of this field on Honeydew’s arm, laughing and joking with him about the wedding planning being a test to see if we had the communication skills necessary to a successful marriage – and that we had passed the test, and it was time to celebrate!  I am not renowed for my memory, but I feel certain I will never forget either walk.

And I feel certain that I will never forget the relief I felt yesterday morning, walking through the golden Little Field, knowing that Warehouse No. 2 is well on its way to becoming a reality.

2010.  Glacier County Honey Co.  All Rights Reserved.

Now, y’all know I love my mama.  No one’s mama is better than mine.

But what you don’t know is that one of the reasons I love my mama so much is because she gave me a second mama, her sister Margaret, better known as Aunt Sissy.  I don’t think it was a calculated move on her part, but my mama always encouraged my close relationship with her sister, and when I was a teenager, it was only Sissy who could shine the light, or shame me into seeing the reasoning, on the decisions my parents made that impacted me.  Curfew, for example.

Now that I am “grown,” or at least post-teenage (to the joy of everyone, I am sure), my aunt is my second mama, and my dear friend.  I like to run down to Georgia once or twice (or better yet more) a year, for some girl time, and while I almost always work in a trip to Atlanta to see my Belles, I can’t remember a time when I didn’t plan a trip that included my aunt Sissy.  Her influence on me is far deeper than she knows.

And so on Mother’s Day, I send my darlin’ mama a card.  And I send her equally darlin’ sister a card, because she’s laid down the law to me about boys (when I was 20, she counseled me not to marry until I was 30, and when I married at 29, with her blessing and obvious joy, I still felt somewhat guilty), fought over the last ruffled cardigan in my size at the J. Crew sale (thanks, Sis), shed blood over the last Cabbage Patch kid circa Christmas 1988 (the pictures show that I was very clearly thrilled), taught me to make real Caesar salad (necessity: good anchovies), and thrown or assisted in the throwing of any number of parties for me or with me (high school graduation, me finally passing math 101 in college, Georgia graduation, Hillstock, law school graduation, book club, my wedding, and Laura Avery’s bridal shower, to name just a few).  Clearly, Sissy is there in the big moments.  And she’s there in the small ones, too.  Our day to day interactions are the sort that lay down the layers of mortar on an unshakable relationship.  The kind mothers and daughters have, or hope to have.

When Howard died, I was sent to the airport to pick Sissy up.  Not that I would have argued with my mother, in the state she was in, about being assigned a task, and picking Sissy up was one of the few things I actually wanted to do in the immediate rush of Howard’s death.  More than I wanted an instant heroin addiction, lifting me away from the real world carnage into iridescent clouds.  More even than I wanted tangible proof of God’s existence.  I was willing to tussle with that subject later on.  But I wanted to go to the airport and pick up my aunt.  That is how much my aunt centers me.  No, she is not perfect, though she is a good, Christian woman.  She is beautiful.  She worries entirely too much about her dogs.  Her knee is damaged, her hands not as strong as they once were.  Her laugh is contagious. Her style is inimitable.  Her taste is impeccable.  Especially in men.  Though I was suspicious of her soon-to-be-husband, Funcle P, when I was ten, by eleven I saw the love that he poured on her, at twelve I saw the joy that she took in him, at twenty I knew I couldn’t settle for less than she had, and at thirty I look to her marriage for guidance in my own.

On this Mother’s Day, I want to celebrate the women that did not give birth to us, who mother us, and the women that give birth to us, that celebrate these relationships, unthreatened, knowing that we can never have too much good mothering.  Thank you, Mom, and Sissy.

2010.  Glacier County Honey Co.  All Rights Reserved.

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