My little brother tied the knot yesterday. After days of rain, we woke to a sunny view of the mountains and a perfect breeze. And then the madness began. We were in various stages of hair, makeup, and dress starting at 9 a.m. Also, there were errands to run around the village of Blowing Rock, so I showed up at most places looking like a dubious beauty contestant from the neck up and a farmer from the neck down. But at 1:55, the bride was strapped into her dress and we were ready to roll.
My family may appear tough, but damn we're emotional. As soon as my brother saw his beautiful bride come around the corner in a horse-drawn carriage, he welled up. And then I welled up. I had to count things to stop from thinking too much about how happy I was for these two amazing people. I counted stones in a bridge nearby, squares in the minister's yoke, you name it, I was counting it. But I made it through, and even managed the benediction without an ugly cry. The kids held it together.
Shut the fuck up, Kel. Just post the fucking pictures. Alright! Marta, roll the tape.
Michael (back), Al, and Kias.
Cut to today. I had to start out for home, unfortunately. And while Michael and Ligia are meant to be, the Blue Ridge Parkway and I are decidedly not. I hopped on for kicks. But after 15 miles or so, was kicked off because the northbound side was closed. What? You will now suffer a few action shots from the Parkway.