Ten Days and Counting

I feel as if I'm holding my breath. Anticipation is mounting.

Time is so strange. Our experience of the passage of time is so subjective. This week, it's crawling -- like the slow ride up the slope of a tall rollercoaster.

The planning for Sarah's wedding has been completed (almost completely by others, of course; the Father of the Bride does little in that regard.) Now we sit, knowing that the last couple of days before the wedding are going to be busier than we can imagine, but unable to accomplish any of those last-minute tasks right now.

The house is quiet. Especially today. Leah is off canoeing in the Boundary Waters. Sarah will leave soon for two interviews in two days. (Good luck!) Sherry and the girls finished painting Leah's room last week, and we've sold the bunk bed and replaced it with a new double bed, giving us our third "guest room" when Leah goes off to NYU.

I think the pace will pick up this weekend as we prepare the house for the rush of visitors. Once it starts, time will rush by, and suddenly, Sarah will be married.

Time to start memorizing that toast, Steve. (But then it becomes more real.)




.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

(Is it possible to be more real? If perception is reality, then, yes. Absolutely.)