Yellow roses for Blaise

Wendi and Terry Wooten’s daughter Blaise is getting married this summer, to a very nice man named George, or Matt, depending on when you got to know him. This enterprise entails considerable planning, celebratory parties involving quantities of treats, and strict adherence to Tradition. There must be Bridal Showers and Bridal Shower Games—with prizes. If you have played Bridal Shower Games, you will understand what we’ve been up to in the Township. If you have not, my powers of description are inadequate to explain it all to you, and I am certainly not going to post the evidence.

Bridal Showers have a practical use. All the women on both sides of the family and assorted friends and attendants of the bride and friends of her mother and her mother-in-law-to-be gather in an atmosphere of general hilarity and tell scandalous stories about each other. This is how women bond. Well, it’s one way. The treats are important. Blaise’s Aunt Vicki did a bang-up job on those, especially on the tiny lemon cookies with zest. And then there was Grandma Lillian’s onion dip. This was not, you understand, that French Onion stuff that you can buy in the dairy section. No, this involved fresh onions and swiss cheese and . . . well, it was very, very good and I requested the recipe. Begged for it, actually, while I was licking my fingers. 

So.  No pictures from the Bridal Shower.  However . . . . these old-fashioned roses are growing in abundance in a sheltered corner at Dale and Chris Reedy’s house out on the Flat Road. They are fragrant and lovely and an astonishing sight after the cold spring we’ve had. I think they’re a good omen, so here they are for Blaise.