Wedding receptions and going-away parties don’t mix

She loved him.  It was obvious that she did.  And he loved her.  It was awe-inspiring to see.  It made those around them believe in love all over again.  They had worked together at an engineering firm for years.  They knew each other very well and had a great life planned with each other.  However, there was one slight problem… he took another job with an oil company and was being relocated to Oklahoma.  This put the wedding plans into high gear after she agreed to move with him.

Their wedding planning had a few hiccoughs in it.  Their original venue had double booked their date and sent them packing with only a few months to plan another event.  I got a panicked call from a bride on the edge, but we got them squeezed in and everything was back on track.  Not only were they planning a wedding, they were planning a major move and major change in their lives – all at the same time.  Normally one of these would put the bravest of women hiding under the bed, coming out only to pee and restock the chocolate supply.  She was doing a good job keeping everything together, yet moving forward at the same time.

The wedding was beautiful.  The bride blushing.  The groom doting.  The food was delicious.  The cake was an attraction.  The DJ was keeping the mood festive.   Everyone was having a great time – especially the bride and groom.

Then the first guest left.

It happens.  The babysitter is getting paid by the hour.  Someone has to get up early in the morning, so they cut the evening short.  There’s any number of reasons that people will leave a wedding reception early.  But it happened.  And it was a shock.

It wasn’t a shock to me or the guests leaving, but to the bride, it marked the beginning of the end.  She clung to them like they were life vests on a treacherous sea.  Then the tears.  And more tears.  And yet more tears.

The party went on, yet the party was over.  At least for the bride.  She stood by the gate as each guest tried to leave and hung on them with the fervor of the first victim.  I was heartbroken for her.  It was horribly sad to watch.

Not knowing what to do, I went to tell the groom what was happening.  Apparently it was too much for him, too, but didn’t want to be taken away from HIS friends.

So, this lovely, sweet couple that had the wedding day of their dreams – then suffered major heartbreak that night as they said good-bye to everyone.  I’m sure it seemed like a good idea at the time, but as it turned out – it wasn’t such a good idea after all.

Did we forget something…?

It was my first event.  November 7, 1998.  I was a venue owner!  I owned my own business!  We had worked so hard to renovate our 1913 historic home and it was finally ready to host its first event.  I had arrived at my destination goal and I was a happy girl.

I knew very few things about events that day except that I loved doing them and I was going to quit my job soon and do this full time.

My bride was happy.  The bride’s mother was happy.  We got everyone dressed.  Everything was set-up and decorated – we were ready to go.  The photographer was snapping away with the camera and the groom was chewing off his fingernails.

We got through the ceremony with the precision of a well-oiled machine.  The reset between the wedding and reception went off without a hitch.  The bride and groom were smiling radiantly while the photographer finished snapping photos to commemorate this fabulous occasion (hers and mine).

We flowed flawlessly from the photographs into dinner.  The DJ was right on cue with the introductions of the bridal party and the new Mr. and Mrs.  This was so much fun!!  (Did I mention that I’m a venue owner?  And I now own my own business?)  I was the queen of my world!

The bride had chosen a Mexican buffet as her dinner offering.  Since we allow outside catering, they had taken care of it themselves.  It smelled wonderful and the guests were digging in with great delight.

I was standing there trying to look important, yet helpful when the first guest said, “Where can I find the drinks?”

“Ummmm… let me check for you,” I said as I looked around wondering to myself where they were.  Not finding any myself, I went to the caterer to ask.  With my inability to speak Spanish and her limited ability to speak English – we determined that drinks had not been ordered.  What?  How does that happen?  Didn’t you offer them? Yes, the bride said her mother told her to order food, but didn’t say anything about drinks.

As fun as the placing-the-blame game is to play, it still doesn’t change the fact that there are no drinks to be found anywhere.  And then the line started forming… “Can I get some water?”, “This food is really spicy, I need something to drink NOW!”, “What do you mean there are no drinks?”

It was like a bad dream with hoards of angry people with their mouths on fire coming at me with the gusto of the passengers on the Titanic looking for an available life raft.  I’M NOT TRAINED! WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?

So, this is where the rubber hits the road.  Grab a pitcher, grab a container of Countrytime lemonade, chip the ice from the bottom of the tray – let’s make something happen.  Send my husband to the small market across the street to get something wet – anything.  Just go.

The lemonade mix, the red gooey junk he found at the market, water and ice all went into a big bowl served in leftover birthday cups.  Tragedy averted.  Fires extinguished.  All is calm on the western front.

Now we ask… who is ordering the drinks?  Are you sure?  And just to make darned sure, I always follow up with the caterer prior to the event.  “No surprises” is an easier thing to manage than “adapt and overcome”.  We can do both, but we’re much more efficient about it now.

$99 wedding dresses – you may get what you pay for

It’s happened twice.  The first one I thought was a fluke.  The bride called me into her dressing room to tell me her zipper had come unzipped.  Upon closer inspection, I noticed that her zipper had come out completely.  The dress fit well, but was not too tight – but I thought perhaps she had strained it somehow by trying it on several times or something that would’ve caused wear.

With only moments to spare before the opening chord of “Here Comes the Bride”, I quickly produced some white thread and a long needle to sew her back into her dress.  Thankfully she didn’t have any reason to need her zipper for the remainder of the evening .  I had to give her groom instruction on how to get her out of it.  (His choices were scissors or rip the threads – I never asked which method prevailed; although I have a sneaking suspicion…)

The second time it happened was a very thin bride who was losing the shoulder stitching on a tank dress (not typically a high-stress area of clothing construction).  We discovered it as she was getting ready to walk down the aisle.  I suggested that she not breathe until she came back down the aisle and we would take care of it then.  Apparently she breathed, because when she got back to me – they were barely holding on.

Once again, I came armed with my white thread and needle and took to stitching her back into her dress.  There are several wedding pictures with me in them sewing her back in.

My first theory was that the manufacturer used a special thread that dissolved when heated up to body temperature, but that didn’t make much sense.  So, the only thing I can come up with is you just may get what you pay for.  As great as the $99 rack looks when planning a wedding on a budget – keep looking.  It may cause more grief that it’s worth.

Old houses tend to sit in old neighborhoods

DSC_2666.NEFIt’s true!  Old houses DO sit in old neighborhoods.  And sometimes those old neighborhoods look much worse than they are…

Virginia’s House, the historic CH Tinker home is no exception.  It was the original home built in this neighborhood in 1913 – in fact, it’s legal description is “orchard lot 1”.  Many homes were built in the decades to follow using materials not typically used any more – mostly wood siding (the Arizona sun is too hard on it).  Add 99 years, multiple economic swings, newer neighborhoods being built further out and these little, tiny, wood sided homes become obsolete.  They also become “ugly” to those who are used to looking at large, rambling, stucco, new-builds.  And after 60, 70 or even 80 years of being “not good enough”, they start to look pretty bad.

I have had several potential customers do what we refer to as “drive-bys”… meaning they find us online, fall in love with our photos and great reviews, set-up an appointment, drive into the area, then change their mind and leave me waiting without coming in.  To these folks, I apologize.  To others that haven’t made that drive yet, I ask you to come inside.

The CH Tinker home was built with all of the opulence of 1913 – complete with a music parlor, butler’s pantry, built-in china cabinet and electric lights – all of which are still intact.  The home itself is just under 3,000 square feet – a good-sized home for current standards; a mansion at 1913 standards.  My husband and I have spent the last 15 years lovingly restoring this home – not renovating – restoring.  Restoration is a laborious task that requires more attention than gutting and replacing, not to mention more time and money.  We have done our level best to return this beautiful home to it’s original splendor.

As of this writing, I have been in business for almost 14 years.  It’s a business I started from nothing, but an old house and a dream and grew it into many happy occasions and lifelong friendships with my brides, their families and friends.  Many people may not know this, but it is also my home – we have lived here since 1997 and I have raised my two children here.  As hard as I try not to take it personally – sometimes I still do.  I have labored over, celebrated and cried into every corner and crevice of this home.  I have befriended my elderly neighbors and buried most of them.  I was their breath of fresh air when we purchased the property and gave them hope for new things to come. Virginia’s House has been good to me.  And them.  And I want it to be good to you.

So I ask you this… we have been told all through our lives not to judge a book by its cover.  I would ask that you not judge THIS book by the other books on the shelf.  There’s a great story written here and I’d like to add your chapter.

Bachelor parties the night before the wedding are a BAD idea

I’m sure you’ve all heard the horror stories of groomsmen putting the drunken groom on a train and he wakes up hundreds of miles and hours away from his bride.  We’ve all heard the stories of new tattoos, indelible marker and broken noses from bar fights.  Urban legends?  Maybe.  Although it doesn’t happen often – it does happen.

Just this season, I had a bride show up in a beat up car I had never seen her in before.  She was moody and cranky when she got out of the car.  She was quick to tell me she wasn’t mad at me, but that I had no idea what she had been through.  (Honestly, I thought it was the usual last minute bride stuff where you simply run out of time and forget to go to sleep that night.)

She then proceeded to tell me of her 3am phone call from a local law enforcement officer.  He wanted to know if she was getting married that morning.  She said yes.  The officer told her that he had arrested the groom for DUI (driving under the influence of alcohol) and that he had been yelling from the back seat about not going to jail, he was getting married in a few hours.  He just wanted to verify the story.

When she verified the story, the officer (obviously a softie) asked if she would be willing to take responsibility for him and he would not take him to jail.  However, her car (that the groom was driving) had already been towed.  And he would still have a DUI on record and have to see the judge early Monday morning.

After this close call with the law, the bride was now stuck with a drunk, slobbery man afraid that she was either going to kill him or not marry him.  (I actually think he was unable to decide which would be worse.)  He kept her up for the rest of the night begging her to marry him and asking her if she was going to leave him at the altar.

As it turns out – he sobered up and she showed up.  And a good time was had by all.

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