I hope that you all have had a chance to read parts three and four of this series, published yesterday. As we've just moved along from July into August, these posts are no longer listed individually on the "Blog Archive". If you just scroll back briefly from here, you'll find them.
Part four, by the way, is kind of a 'downer'. Maybe you should save that one until after you read this one?
Today, I'd like to focus on my mother as an "organizer", the PIC (Person in Charge).
A couple of good stories to share with you, both of which have to do with my first husband and me. I think you'll find them amusing.
The wedding reception ...
The wedding itself was held in Marquette, Michigan, in the church where I'd spent many a reverent and happy hour during my college years.
Then, we all journeyed eastward some 42 miles to Munising, where I'd grown up and the reception was to take place.
What a great evening! A lot of my now husband's friends had made the trek from 'da Tech' in Houghton, and a very large bunch of the locals were there, as well, of course. Presents were opened, cake was served, etc. You know, all that good stuff.
We made our exit successfully. No one followed us. We didn't know it at the time, but a large group of hubby's friends had tried to follow us out and possibly harass us for who knows how far or long.
They were stopped dead in their tracks on the stairs by none other than the PIC, who asked, "And just where do you 'boys' think you're going?"
Packing the car ...
Mother had to have been the world's best car packer. I can remember countless family trips where the trunk was absolutely loaded to the gills, but still it closed neatly and effortlessly, everything boxed up 'just so'.
Well, THIS one was a challenge! Bed linens (including pillows and blankets), silverware, pots and pans, dishes, wedding gifts, niceties and necessities of every sort, younameits ... Mother was determined that all of it would fit into the car on our way back up to da Tech to set up housekeeping for the very first time.
Where we seemed to hit a brick wall was with the wooden clothes dryer rack. It just refused to fit! We tried and tried, but there was no way that we would be able to take it along, it seemed.
But then, Mother (PIC) came up with the perfect solution. If hubby would just put his head through two of the racks, it would work! (Can you believe it? I can still see that picture in my mind to this day!)
Well, guess what? Hubby refused. We DID end up taking the wooden rack, but it was only because he was finally able to take it apart!