Vermont - A Week in Pictures

I am currently sitting in a maze of half-packed moving boxes, feeling a little overwhelmed by everything that needs to be done in the next two days. More on that later.

For now, I'm going to do a picture-heavy, word-light recap of our trip to Vermont for my brother's wedding. Cameras were out in full force, and many of the credit for many of these shots goes to my sisters Maureen and Meghan, Maureen's fiancé Buckley, and my always-reliable sous photog, Tom. Warning: it's a long one, and the pictures quality varies wildly, but hopefully these pictures will provide some idea of the awesomeness that is a Vermont summer. The past week really was full of all the best parts of a family vacation and a wedding weekend.

We displayed our patriotic pride. By this, I mean we wore red, white, and blue; grilled things; and lit other things on fire.

{As my sister pointed out, late afternoon light filtered through the leaves of of maple trees is eminently flattering.}

{a rare straight face from Buckley}

{There are no words.}

We ate.

{an awesome farm-to-table restaurant in Burlington}

{The local foods thing is old news in Vermont - probably because it's common sense and that is something that Vermonters have in spades.}

{Vermont cheese board}

{Pizza from Cucina Antica, Meghan's old employer - the Camel's Hump was the best pizza I have had in a while.}

{rehearsal dinner menu}

{Profiteroles - rest assured they tasted about a hundred times better than they photograph.}

We drank.

{Magic Hat Brewery}

{Drinking isn't always all fun and games -sometimes it gets real.}

We danced.

{Love shack, baby love shack!}

{You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;/You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas}

{People always told me - be careful what you do/Don't go around breaking young girls' hearts}

{Heeeeey Macarena!}

{No music necessary. Mario can dance any place, any time.}

{No idea, I wasn't there, but these moves kill.}

We made toasts.

We played games, both intellectual and drinking. But mostly drinking.

{Apologies - a dimly lit garage and multiple games of Beruit do not make for high quality photos.}

We participated in assorted shenanigans. Did I mention that there was drinking?

{Midgey does her first keg-stand. At a family barbecue.}

{This was the kitty that would go to the winner of a bet on whether or not Michael would cry during the ceremony - it included baggage claim tickets, Lactaid, some Icebreakers, and whatever other detritus people had in their pockets and purses. I don't know...it was hilarious at the time.}

{Turns out that Mo and I were not as slick as we thought we were in planning our water balloon attack, and were met with ambush.}

{All we wanted to do was get a "Just Married" and a few ribbons on the newlyweds' car... Then someone showed up with three rolls of toilet paper and things went downhill from there. Let the photographic record reflect that I am not armed with the cotton candy that would have to be scrubbed from the car the next morning.}

We soaked up the scenery.

{Lake Champlain}

{Stowe}

{Lake Champlain from Shelburne Farms}

{View from the Sunset Ballroom - styled by Maureen}

We relaxed.

{I'm pretty sure that I would be quite happy doing exactly this every, single day.}

{Mo, Meghan, Buckley, Mario, and my mom joined Tom and I at his grandparents' pool one afternoon. I think Pop and Grandma enjoyed seeing the pool get used.}

{Tom's grandparents, Tom and Shirley, will celebrate their 64th wedding anniversary in August or September; they can't remember exactly when!}

{chatting with Lauren}

{Tom found the Red Ryder BB gun from his youth under a bed in his grandparent's guest room.}

{Pop claimed that his eyes weren't good enough for target practice anymore, but he nailed the empty can time after time.}

{earning my relaxation}

We communed with nature.

{Ok, so maybe this doesn't exactly qualify as communing with nature, but I had to share this picture of the tiny frog that Tom rescued from the pool.}

{Mt. Hunger}

{Mt. Hunger}

{Tom and I skipped the Mt. Hunger hike to hang out with his grandmother on her 85th birthday. She celebrated by eating string beans fresh from the vine.}

We posed. A lot.

{Sadly, I forgot my fashion glasses.}

{My sisters have some explaining to do as they allowed me to purchase this dress which makes me look about five months pregnant. It's a good thing I was rarely without a glass of wine that night, or I would certainly have faced some very awkward questions.}

{father of the bride and father of the groom obligingly holding their wives' bouquets}

Now, as much as I would like to forget what I am about to share with you, a recap of this past week would not be complete without this story.

Allow me to set the scene. It's Thursday, the afternoon before the rehearsal dinner, as in the day before the wedding. I am happily settled on my raft, floating around the pool, chatting with everyone. Somehow the conversation turned to what my mom was wearing the next day; I believe I asked about her shoes... At that moment, the conversation triggered an alarm in my brain and my heart felt like it flipped out of my chest and sank to the bottom of the deep end.

"Where's my dress?! Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod!! I don't think I brought my dress!"

Before I could even finish my sentence, Tom was running inside to check the suitcase, but I already knew it wasn't in there.

That's right folks, I am the worst bridesmaid ever.  I left my bridesmaid dress at home. In California. To refresh, the wedding was to be held in Vermont. In about 24 hours.

Thankfully, Tom jumped into white knight mode and crafted a plan. He got busy calling our apartment manager to see if she would go let someone in to get the dress (she wouldn't - boo, Christy!), I got on jcrew.com to see if I could order another dress (I could, but it would arrive August 8th). Several panicked phone calls (on Tom's part) and bouts of hysteria (on my part) followed until finally we had a plan involving a locksmith, Tom's friend Melly, and Fed-Ex. Thanks to Tom, Melly, and the miracle of overnight shipping, the dress arrived at 10 o'clock on the morning of the wedding, the day was saved, and the bride was none the wiser until I broke it to her after the wedding.

My dad is now trying to get the nickname Fed-Ex to catch on. It doesn't exactly roll off the tongue, so I'm pretty sure it won't catch on...

{Please ignore the puffy face and squinty eyes. I had spent the previous night managing my anxiety with red wine.}