…Pre-Reception…Update #2

by Camille Posted on December 5, 2007

I haven’t forgotten that I have a lot more wedding-ish stuff to blog. I will do it now.


Shortly after Kyle and I got engaged, we decided to have two wedding receptions; one in Canada and one in Arizona. It wasn’t long before we had to settle on a date for the respective affairs to be held. Because I intended to marry a foreigner and we wanted to forgo any hassles with The Border People, we decided to hold the Canadian reception a week before our actual wedding date. (The reasons why are long and complicated, so just trust that it was a good idea.)


Five hours after the end of bridal shower #2, (without sleeping much) I caught a flight up to Calgary to meet my fiance.


Kyle picked me up and we proceeded to get various things ready for a houseful of people. The next day, my mom, dad, sister, brother-in-law, aunt Linda, and uncle Steve arrived in Calgary. They rented a couple vans and drove down to Lethbridge, dropping off Aunt Linda and Uncle Steve to stay at relatives’ house in Lethbridge. Then my immediate family continued on to Raymond to set up camp in what was then Kyle’s (now our) house. There are two extra rooms with beds at his house, so the married couples claimed them. Kyle kept his own bed, and I camped in the basement…all alone…until the three driving friends arrived–Allison, Derrick, and Lindsey.


*Can you believe I have six family members and three friends in the world who love me enough to fly and drive so far just to come to one of my wedding receptions?? Most people should be so blessed…*

So the Mesa constituency was accounted for. Kyle’s parents hosted a smashing family dinner at The Dynasty’s banquet room. All Kyle’s family–aunts, uncles, grandmas, etc.–were there, along with my gang. Just to spice things up, we made our families intermingle and sit together at the different tables–to get to know one another. At first people seemed a little self-conscious, but I’ve since heard that everyone loved it.

The next day was a laid-back blend of friends, family, fun, and Hutterites.



That night, October 13 2007, we threw a soiree the likes of which the town of Raymond had never before seen. [Actually, maybe the town of Raymond had seen the likes of our reception before. I’m an immigrant–I don’t know.] But I digress. The colors were red and black, and for our guest’s gastronomic pleasure was a delicious medley of cupcakes and cream puffs, and ice cream to beat. Everyone who came did their part to help set up and get things ready, and many hands make light work, so everything went smoothly. (What do I know? I had nothing to do with it…) Kyle’s Aunt LuAnne toiled endlessly on decorating and fooding and making our reception a delight. Lindsey did my hair (and spruced up Kyle’s), and all “the girls” helped me into my dress. Allison held my dress and anything else I couldn’t deal with, Adell continually reminded me to suck in, which was more helpful than one might think, while my mom provided encouraging words and smoothed over some rough nerves…



…There was a receiving line, once the party started. Kyle and I were the only ones receiving anyone, inasmuch as both our sets of parents opted to go Absent Without Leave, instead mingling around the various guest tables…

…It was fine though. Kyle introduced me to everyone. We had a lovely time talking with people, and even though it was exhausting to smile so much, I’m very glad we did it.

Two hours later, we all pitched in to provide the fastest clean up of any shindig I’ve ever witnessed.
Total success.

Posted in family, friends, wedding | 9 Comments

#@!**%#!@

by Camille Posted on December 1, 2007

These blinds came with the house. We hate each other, these blinds and me. Tonight as I begged and pleaded with them to cooperate, I realised our perfectly-shoveled-across-the-street neighbors probably think I am trying to send them some kind of distress signal every evening at about 5:30. Up and [almost] down go the blinds. Up…and almost down… If this was torture, I would rather be drawn and quartered…
Posted in Uncategorized | 4 Comments

Let It Snow…

by Camille Posted on November 29, 2007

…as if there’s any way to stop it, genius.

This is our house. This is our house with snow. Everywhere.

This is our neighbors’ house (with snow). See how nicely their driveway shows through? That’s because our perfect neighbor [Flanders, in the best sense of the name] shovels his snow before anyone walks on it. Sometimes even while it’s still snowing.

This is how our driveway turned out after I tried my hand at shoveling. I thought I could teach myself the skill, but as it turns out, one has to be a Canadian to really get the job done right:


Ditto the sidewalk. [It is against the law to neglect shoveling snow from one’s own sidewalk. If someone were to slip and get hurt on a snowy patch of sidewalk in front of our house, we would be criminals.]

I will admit, though…it’s lovely.

Posted in Uncategorized | 9 Comments

Dinner Theatre

by Camille Posted on November 27, 2007

Let me set the scene…

Kitchen table, cluttered with things not “out of place” so much as “homeless.” (Things like apothecary jars and huge white bowls and 11×17 wedding photos [leftover from the reception]). A 9×13″ pan of chicken enchiladas rests on a wrought iron trivet, steaming with gooey melted mozzarella cheese. Clear glass bowl of tossed green salad is nestled in the background, and to the side lies a bag of tortilla chips and a gallon jug of Costco salsa. (Chips and salsa are backup dinner.)

Me: (calling to the computer room) Kyle, are you ready for dinner?
Kyle: Yeah.
(five minutes later)
Me: Kyle!
Kyle: I’m coming…
(He comes)
Me: These enchiladas might be a little spicy because enchilada sauce doesn’t come in a can in this country, so I had to make my own with sour cream and jalapeños. I think I might have used too many jalapeños.
Kyle: (Takes a bite) Mmm…this is good.
Me: (With a questioning look on my face) Thanks…
(Kyle rises, refills his glass of ice water, and returns to his chair. Takes another bite. Re-rises. Meanders to the kitchen, opens the fridge, pilfers, and closes the door empty-handed. Turns to the cupboard, opens the doors and reaches for a bottle of a molasses-colored elixir of some sort. Returns to the table.)
Me: (After noticing the elixir is not elixir at all, but actually a bottle of Tony Roma’s original Barbecue sauce.) …Umm…
Kyle: (Noticing my questioning expression) Oh, it’s okay. Barbecue sauce fixes everything.

Does this mean The Honeymoon is finished? Should I be getting over the part where my cooking determines my worth as a wife–as a human being?

Posted in cooking, fiascos, Married Life | 10 Comments

{Thankful}

by Camille Posted on November 22, 2007

“Post something,” he said. “Entertain me, despite your lack of inspiration.”

Fine…

I went hunting with my husband and Ronnie, our neighbor. This was last Saturday at the dim–yet nevertheless early–hour of 7 a.m. Since I am turning green in the environmental sense, I didn’t know if I could withstand the pressure. Even though I knew I wouldn’t be pulling any triggers, I still wasn’t sure if I would be okay with killing an animal for sport [Ronnie was on a quest for a 5 point buck]. Ethics and morals, and what-not.

But I went. I hate the thought of missing out on something fun.

I was surprised once we started the hunt, though–I’d always figured the definition of hunting included actually finding, cornering, and eventually killing something alive. We had no trouble finding things alive, but the cornering and killing aspect of the hunt didn’t go so well. We saw many animals. {Evidently Ronnie is a bit picky when it comes to the heads he’ll hang on his walls. Go figure.} We even chased one down, but the clever buck eluded us in spite of our efforts–they say that big bucks are big for a reason: they were too smart to get themselves hunted and killed last season.

Here was our prey:

Ronnie spotted.
Ronnie hunted.
Kyle spotted.
Kyle hunted.

Both returned quite empty-handed…

My bed head and I tried to look interested and enthused.
“It’s a good thing we aren’t pioneers traveling the Oregon Trail and don’t actually need these animals to sustain us,” I said, “or we’d be goners.”

I was more keen on watching the beauty of Alberta.

Nobody shot this little lamb. Nobody even tried. Thank goodness.

I am more attractive than a deer–why doesn’t anyone ever try to shoot me and stuff my head for their wall? Hunting doesn’t make any sense. I have a lot of relatives who sport heads on their walls, and they will surely mock me for this post. Ho-hum. I bet they’ll love me anyway.
On a more pleasant note, I am thankful for these dusty wooden pedestals. I got both of them for $7 at Goodwill. Someday I will paint them black or cream and they’ll be lovely in my house. But for now, on this Thanksgiving that’s not even celebrated where I live, they do a swell job of cheering me up…



Posted in Pretty Things, Recreation | 10 Comments

{Marth-Mallows}

by Camille Posted on November 17, 2007
It was about a year ago when my inclination toward homemade marshmallows began. I was lucky enough to experience these ones in hot cocoa at a rich friend’s house last winter.

A few months later I moved to Belgium and was introduced to these little pretties. {Pierre Marcolini, by the way, is the Belgian chocolatier of the very rich.} Unfortunately, despite my ghastly high wages as a Belgian au pair to the very rich, I never could seem to save enough euros to try Monsieur Marcolini’s mallows.

Then, I moved home, started Archives of our Lives, and meandered upon this blog [look down two posts] which inspired me to take matters into my own hands. I had to have the homemade mallows again; I became obsessed.

So bought the ingredients as specified in Martha’s recipe here and invested four hours of my life into these mallows, and what follows are the results. Of my Friday night. {This is me married.}

See this?

Those are Martha’s up there.

And these:

These are mine.

See any resemblance? Me either.

Then I remembered what my long-ago young womens advisor used to tell me in our cooking classes, “Never forget, Camille, about presentation. Presentation can make or break a meal.” So then I remembered that everything looks better in an apothecary jar….


Still no resemblance?

I have been faced with a dreadful failure in the kitchen, and I am going to sleep sad and forlorn at 12:48 a.m. Rachel Ray never would have given me false hopes like Martha’s recipe did. That’s because Rachel Ray has never been a convicted felon…

I am changing my loyalties.

Posted in kitchen failures, mediocrity | 10 Comments

…Okay, but I Don’t Know Why You’d Care…

by Camille Posted on November 15, 2007

I’ve hesitated updating my blog because I really haven’t had much by way of inspiration lately. Don’t misunderstand: I am enjoying my new life and new experiences… It’s just that it doesn’t seem like anyone reading my blog would be interested in what I’m doing. Do you care, for example, that I have cooked four meals already as a wife (burritos, lasagna, chicken cordon bleu, and stir-fry)? Do you care that my rice was not too sticky, my snickerdoodles turned out beautifully, I succeeded at banana bread muffins and chocolate chip cookies, and even my apple crisp wasn’t too shabby? Does it matter to you that I went to the dollar store today and bought four clear squirt bottles so I could fill them with windex and disinfectant spray, just so my under-the-sink kitchen cupboard will look spiffy and uniform (reminiscent of Martha, friend to the masses)?

Probably not.

Do you, as a blog reader and (very likely) an employed member of society, care that, because Immigration Canada says I can’t work until my papers go through, I have instead organized my closet–and Kyle’s–color-coordinating both for easy access? I doubt it.

So you see, though I enjoy what I am doing, I have a hard time believing that anyone else would take delight in it.

Aside from that, the only news is that Kyle went to get his teeth (or lack thereof) inspected by the dentist and the specialists today. Not one, not two, not three, not four, five, or six, but seven thousand dollars is what it would cost to get them fixed properly. Three zeros. That would pay off the car I left in Mesa. (Anyone want to buy a ’99 white Toyota Camry?)

I told Kyle that I’m used to the toothless him, and he shouldn’t base his decision on whether or not I mind his new look. I mean, who could resist this face?


Posted in Uncategorized | 12 Comments