The mission commander sternly went over the check list , developed over the course of many weeks, the way a pilot pre-flights his plane:
...Brakes tested...Check!...
...Steering gear...Check!...
....Belts, hoses, fluids....Check!...
...fuel, full tank of ... Check!...
...clothes....Check!...
....coldcuts, cooler of....Check!...
....snacks, assorted....Check!....
...camera kit... Check!....
...gown, wedding.....Check!...
...suit, grooms....Check!...
...Bottled water w/sippy top, case of, qty 3...Check!...
...Satisfied that all was as it should be, Mrs A. ordered us all to the Big Green Van, did a quick
All Belts Buckled check, and we were off. Present in the van was Sue and I, 'Drew, Chas, Tess, Teds, Ray, Marg and Spmarg. Quite the motly crew. And so begun the long drive to VA, for the wedding of Cassie and Markie. Hitting the road at just before 7AM, we rolled onto the highway, me at the wheel, guided by that wonder of modern technology the WPS (Wife Positioning System, as in "I-drive-wherever-my-wife-tells-me-to"). The trip covered just a bit over 800 miles one way, spanned 7 states and took us nearly 14 hours with just two (yes, two!) stops of under 15 minutes each for fuel and bathroom use, and a quick bratwurst with 'kraut that Spmarg could not resist at the gas station in NY. Not bad. We started from the tiny hamlet of Dracut, MA and ended in the tinier hamlet of Danville, VA. All in all, it was thankfully an utterly uneventful and smooth drive. On only 2 occasions during the trip down, was Sue required to deploy her big white "NO WHINING" sign (thanks, Sar) to quell some minor unrest.
The following morning we went off to meet more of the new family at the sprawling VDH dairy farm. That was easily the most cows I have ever seen in one place at one time. Beautiful rolling hills as far as you can see. Amazing. We met lots of VDH's there, got the grand tour of the farm and were welcomed and treated like visiting dignitaries. Later that evening at the rehersal dinner, we met a bunch more VDH's (there are a LOT of 'em), were treated to a huge yummy meal, and basked in the glow of hundreds of pandas of every concievable description. Cass and Mark floated about getting congratulated, we all chatted with various members of our about-to-be-new family members, and Chaz went about working the room, schmoozing the uncles for invitations to next hunting season.
The morning of the wedding, the weather was even nicer than the days before, 70's, bright sun, clear blue sky, no wind. Perfect. Ppmarg, 'drew and I went back to the farm to get the private tour of Mark's grandfathers woodshop, the source of may wonderfully crafted wooden doo-dads.
Being a shop-type guy myself, I really appreciated the setup he had going there. The wedding went off perfeclty, and we all gathered in the church hall to celebrate the new couple, and of course, eat. As it happened, I ended up having little time to eat, between Mark and Cass cutting the cake (and then smooshing it in eachothers mouths) and all of the nice folks who went out of their way to catch up with me, introduce themselves, welcome us to the family and then pour endless compliments about what a fine daughter I have and what a great pair Mark and Cass are. It is really funny to know that all of the people are now part of my family, that is way cool in my mind. After many such encounters, it was time, and away they went in a balloon filled van dragging miles of streamers, balloons and toilet paper. Before I knew what had happened, Marks mom, dad, sister and brother appeared in jeans and tee shirts and had the entire place cleaned up, food packed away, trash bagged and chairs put away. I felt a bit like a useless lout, which of course I was, having not contributed anything to the effort. Even poor Annie, so deathly ill that she had to work wrapped in a bath robe, put in more than I did. I hope she has recovered by now.
The trip home was almost as uneventful as the trip down. With the WPS at top efficency, we were guided to an overnight stop in Mechanicsberg, PA. After visiting with relatives there the next morning, we hit the road for the final leg of the trip. Someplace in nothern PA, disaster struck. The plastic container of chicken fingers, mashed potato with gravy, butter and 2 muffins, carefully prepared by Marg had vanished, the apparent of victim of some horrific type of dimentia, that had caused her to forget it at the hotel that morning. We all fretted greatly about this for the remaining hours of the ride, as this sort of thing is clearly a sign of the early manifistations of Foodheimers disease. In spite of that we arrived back here in Mass with no other setbacks. We dropped Marg and Spmarg back at thier home and made the short trip back to our own little place in Dracut. It was GOOD to be home! We did a quick removal of the mountain of stuff from the van, and lo and behold, there was the CHICKEN!! Pretty much right where Marg had left it, right under her seat. We rejoiced at the knowledge that she is not, afterall, a Foodheimers victim. Unfortumnatly, after having spent many hours sitting on the floor of the van next to the heater box, the poor food was deemed by Mrs A. as being unfit for consumption, and was sent out to the trash.
Early the following morning, as I left for work, I noted that one of our trashcans had fallen over. There on the driveway was the little plastic container. It was opened, the chicken fingers were gone, as were the mashed potatoes and gravy, and all that was left of the two muffins was the little paper cups. Apparently the skunks who make regular visits around our house had eaten well that night.
The skunks NEVER forget where the food is.
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