Her identity went up in smoke.

So I just got back from a big ol' family wedding in Lanett, Alabama. I want to share just a few things about the event.

(1) Another woman gave away her identity. What do I mean? Well both the bride and the groom, my cousin, have ranks in the Air Force. They are both pilots. The bride's dad is a general in the Air National Guard. When the invitation was sent out my cousin's rank was listed, the Generals' rank was listed, but the brides was not. Then during the wedding they lit a unity candle, a ritual that I really hate, but can deal with except when the couple blow out their individual candles which in this case they did. So apparently now they are just one being. And that one being is my cousin Jonathan. Because when they were introduced at the end of the service they were introduced as Capt. & Mrs. Jonathan Ballard. And in the program their future address was listed as Capt. & Mrs. Jonathan Ballard. I wanted to scream out her name is Emily. But apparently she doesn't care.

(2) The toilets in the women's bathroom at the country club where the reception held stopped working. And the light bulb blew. Apparently the water pressure of washing dishes was too much for the system. So what did they do? They brought in a bucket of water to pour into the tanks. And my aunt took in some candles. So in a dimly lit room, in semi-formal attire women had to pour a bucket of water into the toilets. How awesome is that?

(3) Finally, on the flight back. I get on the airplane and there is a woman in my seat. And I say to her you are in my seat. She says no. Now I know what seat I am supposed to be in. I select my seats in advance. I always select an aisle seat. So I say to her yes I am on the aisle. (It is a two seat row, window and aisle.) I show her my ticket. And it eventually becomes evident to me that she doesn't speak much English if any. She is dressed in what I think is probably African dress--don't know what country. Anyway she pulls out her ticket and sure enough she is supposed to be in the window seat. So I point to the window seat and she moves over. And then I get settled and sit down in my seat. That is when it happened. She hit my knee. Not with her knee or her purse, she reached over and slapped my knee. Now it could have been considered an I-don't-speak-English-nice-little-apology pat, but I think she was actually hitting me. (My friend Blythe might suggest that I'm living in judgement instead of grace, but I think she was hitting me.) Then the whole flight she was a complete armrest hog.

Those are not necessarily the highlights of the trip. But they are definitely some of the most memorable.