Yay! Only 570 miles to Ithaca.
At Buttermilk Falls, which is much tougher to hike than it looks. (So I'm told.) During an intense game of catch, The Tall Drink of Water (TDW) jumped into the creek and fetched out the softball. Great throw Dan!
Saturday's wine tour.
Patrick Murphy: Chronic wine swirler.
Behold the deliciousness that is Cranberry Essence wine. No more UTIs for me!
After about 35 "tastes."
Ithaca is Gorges.
Unless there is a boy slobbering on you. Then Ithaca is kinda Gross.
Old friends Chris and Hugh, who just happen to live in Ithaca right now. (Chris, my Jen when I lived in Virginia.)
Jen's pop takes her down the aisle. (Er, grassy vineyard.)
It rained all day Sunday. Poured. But it stopped in time for Jen and Pat to have their ceremony outside. (Here I am screwing up the poem.) After the ceremony the sun came out. Amazing.
Notice anything unusual about this photo? Only the relatives gasped. No one else noticed, including Pat, Jen or the officiant. Funny.
At Last... Nine years in the making.
We admit to feeling very smug about the gift we got them. And not just because I sliced up my thumb curling ribbon to tie onto it.
Happy Wedding!
2 comments:
Wait - so what was weird about the photo of them exchanging rings?
Oh great. Way to make me miss Ithaca! Couldn't you have taken a few more pictures of the crazies and the hippies on the Commons??
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