Married: for better or for worse

I recently made the sojourn with my sister and brother down the continent to Oregon (you may have read of it in my bro's blog). I will attempt to make known my take on the events of this trip.

The purpose of the journey was to attend my cousin Jalon's wedding. A good friend said of the event:

Another wedding! The world will be overrun with Neffs.

I reply to her incredulity: "Remember the mandate!" Well the wedding was carried out without a hitch, it went along smoothly and yes, beautifuly. There is nothing I could write on this subject that would shed an unpleasant or even blasse light upon the matter. It was altogether lovely, the kind of wedding you always dream of for yourself. Since it was so near this blessed holiday, there was many a Christmas theme. This gave a heartily festive air to the party. Everyone was in their best looks and on their best behavior. I must say that this behavior was that kind of wonderful sincerity that one looks for in humanity.

My dear brother-in-law Joel flew up from California exclusively to perform the ceremony and had myself and many of my relatives in tears at his job well done in uniting my cousin with his bride, Mandy. When at last the celebration was over, all things having been said and the deed being done, we the guests were given perfect little jingle bells in the staid of bubbles or pettles with which to send the couple off. We all rang vigorously and with great joy as Jalon escorted Mandy to the car and they drove away. And that was all. After many goodbye hugs to our cousins and Uncles and Aunts, we took leave of the party and went our homeward way, with goodwill in our hearts, bells on our fingers, and a five hour drive ahead of us.

I must say in conclusion that whether married for better or for worse, these two people could not have had a better start in their life together than they had that night, and I have much faith in they're productive and wonderful life.

a house, or a castle in the skies?

Home is where the heart is.

Or so they say. I have this thing about houses and architecture okay? So I find myself sincerely pained when I see a house that no sane person could take pride in as their own. There it stands, a pitiful, run-down, sad symble of a thing of much nobler mettle.

I believe, and I hope that you will concur, that a house is a physical manifestation of a spiritual thing. It is the place where you abide--a place you come back to at the end of the day to kick off your shoes, relax and be. You are attached to this place, you love it. It is your--home. It should be a beautiful place--one that shows to the world your love for it.

So what kind of yahoo can have the nerve to think up and build the horrid and starkly ugly "homes" we see around us? I cringe every time I walk the streets of Lynden. The only thing that saves me from insanity is the few times when I catch a glimpse of euphoria. Like that perfect white colonial on Front street. Ahhh....

Perhaps I have been over-eloquent and bored you. I beg forgiveness and will write again when my humor is more suited to your taste.