|If it's true that the only good mosquito is a dead mosquito,|
then lots of mozzies went to heaven on our watch. Buzzing bastards.
Look at the dead mozzies on that piece of sticky paper. That, my friends, is the stuff wet dreams are made of. When you live beside a mosquito-infested river (my pig-squealing friends hum the theme for Deliverance whenever they drop by), you will do anything, and I mean anything, to reduce the insect population.
We tried big electric bug zappers but the kids never really cottoned to keeping their fingers out of the mesh. Poor little christers going back to school with frizzy hair.
We were going to hire an airplane to spray the whole river with some poisonous, toxic, venomous cocktail of illegal and lethal chemicals but the guys that organized the G8 already used it all up spraying the golf course so politicians could golf a few rounds and talk environmental issues without getting malaria.
Dave even sacrificed a few virgins out at the dock but neighbours called the by-law officer and Dave got a ticket. He didn't realize you had to have a permit.
We needn't have worried about the other crap, though. We spent a couple hundred bucks and got one of those magnet thinga-mabobs - they turn propane into carbon dioxide, mimicking people breath, with the additional scent attractant of Bug Come Hither, and when the mozzies fly by to see what the fuss is about they get stuck to sticky paper.
Every two weeks during the summer we replaced the sticky paper because it got completely covered with dead mosquitoes.
Every two weeks!
If you an imagine how many bugs were throttled, and thus unable to produce more bugs, you can imagine how our place went from a bug-infested swamp to a place where we could actually hang out. Outside. Without bug suits.
I Do Countdown: 24 Days
Today is the first day of September, which means I'm officially in freaking out mode. Not that I'm worried about the wedding itself – what I am going through is that "cold feet" stage.
Like, am I doing the right thing? I mean, I thought I was doing the right thing 24 years ago and look how that turned out.
Do I want to spoil what Dave and I have going? We have spent five great years together... what if getting married ruins that? I don't think it will, and I am convinced we are doing the right thing... still.
I'm not the only one worried about it. Dave thinks about it, too.
After all, we were both burned the first time around.
We know this time will be different.
I called my friend Vic tonight. Vic is training to be a lay minister and is, in fact, sharing part of our wedding service duties with the minister of Bracebridge United Church. Vic is a bit like a Father Confessor. I said to her, "shouldn't I be happy and giddy? Why do I feel a little low?"
She said it's a little known secret that most people are anxious before the wedding, wondering if what they're doing is right. It is, after all, a major life decision. And it's not the wedding that's expensive; in the long run, it's the divorce.
I felt a lot better after talking to her.
And downing a half a bottle of chablis.
Wedding Things I Did Today
Today was a big day, wedding-wise. This afternoon I went to the Town of Bracebridge office and got a marriage license.
I was beginning to think we might not get one.
Dave and I have been legally separated from our spouses for years, but we saw no reason to shell out the mega-bucks for a divorce. No reason until Dave proposed on Valentine's Day. Well, we knew it was going to take a while to get the darn divorces done so we started the process right away. We figured it might take three months. Maybe four.
Even with both of our divorces uncontested and uncomplicated it took until LAST WEEK to get the certificates. I was seriously beginning to wonder if there was really going to be a wedding.
But, they came.
The marriage licence is in hand.
And tonight we pay our final visit to our minister before the rehearsal night on the 24th.
Wedding Shopping I Did Today
Dropped by Wal-Mart and picked up gifts for the boys for being our ushers. I can't tell you what they are because Angus and Sam read this sometimes... suffice it to say they are boring, yucky, stoopid presents, about as exciting as new underwear under the Christmas tree. Which means it was motherly gift-shopping at its finest.
Also bought some fake pearl strings.
Vic had an idea for table decorations... but I don't have time to tell you about it now.
Now, must go to see the minister.
Dave? Get me to the church on time!