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In the midst of writing this post last night, I ran downstairs to see how the veil was looking under Mom’s ministrations.  When we found it the day before, she said she’d see what she could do for it.  Later that evening, I saw it soaking in a bucket with some Oxy cleaner in it.

Well, the oxy stuff didn’t do a thing.  Mom’s next thought was, “Well, it’s ruined anyway, and it’s cotton and nylon*…”


Yep, she soaked it in water with TWO CUPS of bleach.**  Two words: Go, Mom!


It’s perfect.  Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!!

*I asked her how the hell she knew it was cotton and nylon.  Answer: Mom was a home economist and worked in a fine fabric store for years.  The woman knows her fabrics.  I tend to forget just how well she knows them

**Disclaimer: I’m not going to advise you on whether or not bleach is safe for any of your fine fabrics; it’s most definitely not my area of expertise.  Please don’t put bleach or any other cleaner on a beloved veil or fabric item of your own without researching the fabric and potential consequences.

Don’t you just love it when the Bride and Groom pass out miniature bottles of bubbles after the reception?  Don’t they look beautiful as they run toward the waiting car in a sea of pearlescent, floating spheres?

It’s especially beautiful if, like on our wedding day, there are snow flurries intermingling with the bubbles.

Of course, it never occurred to us that the soap in the bubbles was perhaps not the best substance to let coat a veil made of expensive French lace hand-pieced by the mother of the bride…and that perhaps we should have sent it to the cleaners with the gown, rather than folding it up in tissue for nearly twelve years without a second thought.  Until yesterday, when Mom and I pulled the boxed gown and accessories down out of her closet, so I could pack them up to go to Seattle.

And found this:


I do believe I resembled a guppy for several long seconds after finding the veil in this state.  I’m not often speechless, as those who have met me in person can attest, but this did the trick.  You see, I loved my wedding gown.  It was great.  But I loved my veil.  I vividly remember going to the fine fabrics store with Mom and picking out the lace, the price of which nearly stopped my heart.  We spent quite a long time figuring out the absolute minimum we would need to buy for Mom to hand piece into the correct shape to give me a mantilla-like effect.  And it was beautiful.  I have always said I didn’t know if I’d hang onto my gown forever, but that the veil would be an heirloom.  We made it removable from the headpiece so future brides could wear it with whatever headpiece they wanted.  There was thought put into it.

And here it is.  Woah.  Okay, yes, I know, it’s not that important.  Except that it is, to me, just a little bit.

So, to the purpose of this post, a Public Service Announcements for brides everywhere:

When you take your wedding gown to the cleaners, have them clean the veil, too.  You never know what might have gotten on it.

Oh, and as for my veil?  Surprise!  It has a happy ending.  Tune in tomorrow…

November 6 was the fifteenth anniversary of the day Jason and I met.  I had it in mind all year, and had planned to get him a card…nothing too special, just an acknowledgment of the the date and a thank you for all he brings to my life.  That was two days after his job ended, and the day got lost in the emotional shuffle.  I was a little sad and disappointed when I realized, but it is, after all, just a date on a calendar.  (Besides, it’s only five more years until I can recognize the twentieth!)

December 19 was the fifteenth anniversary of our first date.  We had planned at one point to go out that evening…dinner at the same restaurant (where we have traditionally gone for our wedding anniversary), a show.  Just like that first night.  It wasn’t in the cards this year.  Instead, that evening was spent in another of our favorite pursuits – dinner and cards at our best friends’ house.  We don’t see them nearly often enough.  It was wonderful.

December 29, 1997

December 29, 1997

Yesterday, December 29, was our eleventh wedding anniversary.  (Holy cow.  Look how young Jason looks in that pic!)  We celebrated by interviewing Realtors, grabbing Chick-Fil-A with the boys for dinner, going to Nicky’s karate class as a family (instead of my usual preference: divide-and-conquer), playing our new favorite family game (Whoonu; more on that another time), and receiving word that Jason is definitely going to be flying out to Seattle for an in-person interview.

It wasn’t our usual anniversary celebration, by far.  One of the sets of grandparents typically takes the kids (which fell through this year thanks to a horrible stomach virus in grandparentland), and we enjoy dinner out and maybe a movie.  Last year, we went to North Carolina for a long weekend, toured Biltmore, etc.

I’m very content with our eleventh anniversary, though.  I can’t help but feel excited at the changes happening for our family, and everything seems to be moving forward in a “just right” manner.  There will be time and money later for evenings out and gifts exchanged.

I love you, Honey.  Thank you for everything.  Happy Anniversaries.

My boys

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