Aaron and Emily

We celebrated the marriage of Aaron and Emily last Saturday in Northfield.  

Captured this pretty picture of Lissy.

Sweet little Henley fell asleep on Grandpa Anderson's shoulder.  

 So so cute . . .

 Grandpa and Grandma Anderson . . .

 Dad, Jo, Jason, Erica, and their families . . .

 I love to take pictures of interesting objects . . . this is the grill of the "party bus" that picked up the wedding party from the church:)

 Grandpa Jeff and his precious boy, Henley . . . I'm going to edit this photo when I have time.  It's adorable!

Jeff and Kim leaving the church.  Everyone headed from the church to the reception at the Grand.  

 Another picture of Henley on Grandpa's shoulder, visiting with Steve in the parking lot.

 I love this photo . . . I think it might have to be framed and hung in their living room:)

 The reception and dance were held at an old theatre in Northfield.  It was such a cool building with so much character.  The atmosphere was amazing . . .

 I love the old front door.

 This was painted on the wall as we walked in.

I love the way people are reflected in the glass.  I just noticed my reflection:)

I could have snapped pictures of the beautiful building all night long.

 . . . just like the way this photographed.

Lissy and Zach at the head table . . .

It was fun to visit with family.  And it was fun to just watch family enjoying each other:)

Lissy looked beautiful and I took a ton of pictures of her:)  I'm only posting a few!  She is visiting with her sisters-in-law.

Happened to catch this sweet photo of Emily sharing her wedding ring.

We shared a table with Schultes and McCulloughs.

It was wonderful to see family that we don't get to see often.  Sarah's husband, Julio, and their son, Jacob, were up in the balcony and I managed to capture this cute photo.

Kim's mom and her aunt . . .

Adam and Madison . . . cute photo:)

Zach's brother, Josh, talking with his fiance. . . 

The bride's bouquet . . .

adorable . .

bridesmaid's bouquet . . .

 Cousins killing time with cousins between the meal and the dance :)

. . . gorgeous ceiling tile

Ben visited with Julio . . .

Jeff and Bill . . .

Isaac, Seth, Sam, and William got to sit together during the reception.

 Aaron and Emily cutting the cake.

funny picture . . . he was enjoying his cheetos before the meal!  

Sam and William . . .

orange . . .

Jeff and Sarah . . .

more orange . . .

Maggie and Lissy . . .

Gloria and Sarah . . .

Love this!  Whenever glasses clinked and the bride and groom kissed, they drew a couple's name out of the "hat" and that couple had to stand and kiss!  This is the reaction when Jeff and Kim's names were drawn!

 head table . . .

My dinner plate . . . what    in    the   world?!  I had a HUGE serving of prime rib and amazing potatoes.  What a generous meal!

 cute photo of Aaron and his friends . . .

Grandma Sherry and Dennis . . .

Bill and William . . .

It was a wonderful day!

 A bottle of wine was given to the guests that stayed at the hotel.

I'm catching up on Danielle's posts . . . meaningful words in her edgy style

Why I burned my journals & celebrate my insignificance. I burned about 20 years of journals. Pages and pages of gut-red poetry and angst; cosmic gorgeousness and tender prayers; lists of wants, boyfriends (a loose term), and favourite perfumes.  With every page I fed into the fireplace, I smiled. Thank you. Goodbye. Hellohhh here & now. REASONS FOR THE BIG BURN 1. I'm not interested in the idea of leaving a legacy. If I die tomorrow and vanish from everyone's memories, fine by me. I'm here for now. 2. I love deep and I'm very ritualistic, but I'm not very nostalgic. 3. I love my present and I love my future. I love the vastness of my past. But I've found that investing in the future has way better ROI (Return On Investment). 4. I've come to the conclusion that reliving pain is actually not that conducive to my joy, growth, or creativity. Nope, it just isn't. I've tried recapitulation and obsessive attachment as a means to self-improvement, and it blows. I can find plenty to be sad about in my current life -- I don't need to dig up old material. 5. I love ritual and adore fire. So, duh, let's BURN THE PAST. Really, if you want to burn something DOWN, invite me. Funeral pyre, anyone? I'll bring the matches. 6. For me, clutter-free living is up there with rainbows, front row seats, and answered prayers.  INSIGHTS FROM THE BURN 1. It helped me become even more glaringly aware of my insignificance on the planet. I find this thrilling. Generally, I'm happy with the work I put into the world. No false modesty here. But realistically, not long after I die my work will fade from view. Beyond say, my great-grandchildren, if they ever come to be, I'm dust on this plane. Dust to dust. Personal insignificance is provocative when you're making your art. Remembering how insignificant you are helps you to be more daring, more honest, more ... here. 2. Privacy is powerful energy to harness. One of my favourite things about being alive is the fleeting intimacy of events. Me. You. A moment only we shared. Gone. God, I love that compression of the sacred and the mundane. I like knowing that most everything will never happen again. So let it go. 3. I want my past to move through me like water. I want my ideal future to come to me as easily. Fluid yesterday, fluid tomorrow. 4. You get to make it all up anyway. History is malleable because memory is subjective. 5. Do not give your past the power to define your future. There are historians. There are burners. I'd never advise on journal-burning matters. But I can tell you this: Traveling lighter helps me shine brighter.

more from Danielle LaPorte's blog . . .

Validating your pain is the first step to getting stronger. I have dental “issues.” I’m one of the (apparently) very small percentage of people who are very difficult to freeze. There are theories, previous orthodontic work, mystery nerve configurations … I’ll spare you. But you can imagine how dental experiences might go in these cases. Most often, dentists say something like, “There’s absolutely no way you can feel that,” and then they proceed with the drill. And I endure, thinking, It’s all in my head, or, It’s meant to hurt a bit, and I deep-breathe and body-clench my way through it. Until I found my current dentist. He started a procedure, I started to wince, and he said, “You can feel that, can’t you!” And I mumbled, “Ya! I CAN!” And he said, very kindly, “You’re one of those!” Eureka! And I started to get teary, not from pain but from relief that finally, someone got me, and finally, I knew it wasn’t in my head. I could feel it. So ya, I have dental baggage. But I recently got permission to put it down … I’m having a basic dental cleaning. The hygienist hits a spot and my whole body jerks. It was far from excruciating, it was just, nervy. We actually both laughed at how dramatic my physical reaction was. And … my first response was, “It’s okay.” In a nano-second I told myself, despite the evidence, that it didn’t actually happen. “Keep going, I can take it,” I told her. And then this: “But you shouldn’t have to take it,” she said. “We can make this easy for you.” And she gave me a pinch of freezing in the right place and we sailed on. Default refrain: I can take it. Paradigm-shifting response: But you shouldn’t have to. VALIDATING YOUR PAIN IS THE FIRST STEP TO SANITY, STRENGTH & HEALING Acknowledgement first, analysis second. If you have a reaction — a rush of emotion, a dark thought lunges in, a curious question circles your mind, your stomach flips, or your heart goes ba-boom — then something is really actually, for real, for sure happening to you. You’re having an experience that is true for you. Never mind qualifying how justifiable or sane your painful or fearful reaction is, just notice that it is really happening — because denying it is a form of insanity. Endurance can be a very unwise choice. As inevitable as emotional and physical suffering is, it doesn’t always serve to make us stronger — sometimes it just wears you right down. Sometimes, the test of strength is to say “This isn’t working,” the millisecond it’s not working. Believe your pain. It’s not a friend you want to invite over, but when it does show up, it always — always — brings you precious information about what’s best for you. Dare to be high maintenance. I bet you’re invincible in many areas of your life. But when you need it, ask for special treatment. You want people on your team who believe you. I have friends who would be dead now if they didn’t keep looking for a doctor who believed what they said or how their body was responding. Keep searching for a lover who understands your vision of partnership, a collaborator who can see your dream, friends who are tuned in enough to say, “Is everything okay?” Healing happens in resonance, not opposition. If it hurts, it hurts. Bring your pain into the light and everything changes.