Wedding Dinner at the Center for Wooden Boats

My stipulations for the evening of our wedding were simply the following:


1. Must be on or near water
2. Must be some activity where guests could actually interact with one another
3. Must have a program (I am a Hart, after all)


Enter the Center for Wooden Boats, a nonprofit floating museum on South Lake Union where guests could sail, eat, and enjoy an evening dedicated to us. As long as it didn't rain, we'd be in perfect shape.

And oh in shape we were.

We planned for rain, just in case, but I knew we wouldn't need the huge tent- I had been telling just about everyone I knew to pray for sunshine for our wedding day.  Hard to count on blue skies in Seattle in March, but God pulled through and we had one heckuva view.  Not warm, really; but that's not what I asked for.

Our arrival was a bit chaotic.  I made the stupid-in-hindsight call to spend barely any time at the temple taking pictures, meaning guests arrived at the CWB too early to enjoy free parking and while everything was still being set up.  Wasn't the worst thing in the universe to go wrong, considering the sunshine and good area for walking around (unless you're a kid, apparently.  The ever precocious Miles was all too curious about what was over the edge of the dock; at one point that I saw, he laid on his belly, sneaking backwards inch by inch towards the water, only to be caught again by his protective and frustrated dad, Brent), but it was a bit of a flurry to begin with.

But like I care.  It's my wedding day, you mofos can park around the corner.

The caterer set up a flaming grill and a few people took out boats.  I slipped on my canvas boat shoes and classy life jacket over my gown and we took a run around the lake.

 Porter's aunt Bytha did a PHENOMENAL job of set up and decoration.  Nan's flowers in patterned, wood containers, gold chargers (LOVE chargers. LOVE gold.  Best combo ever.) from my mom and friends, lovely displays of photos, and cherry blossoms everywhere.

Jeff was the MC and we traded off a I don't know how many course meal with five 'acts'.

First, the meal:

Our caterer, a half Italian-half Iranian mustachioed character from Pasta Freska gave us the taste test months prior.  My dad was sending him to Mexico, so we could get pretty much whatever we wanted (barter's the best for weddings, have I mentioned this?).  Mike was of the opinion that Americans eat dinner too quickly (true) and we'd need some 3 hours for the full meal (I think we ended on 2.5 or so).  He had a pretty clear idea of what was best to serve and didn't much care that neither of us like spaghetti ("I don't want to be a'vain, but! I make a'really a'good spaghetti").

Luckily, everything he made us on our taste test day and on game day was the best version of that thing I've ever eaten.  Small plates, course after course, that just kept on coming.  Greek salad, tiger prawns, salmon, halibut, chicken marsala, roasted zucchini, spaghetti bolegnese (he tricked us and threw it in. He even brought some gluten-free for me and a few other gluten freezers in the room!), and dessert to share: sour cream chocolate cake, almond cake, and my favorite dessert of all: creme brulee.

In short: Lots of food.  Lots of good food.  Wish I was hungrier so I could enjoy it!

The program:
1. Cari and Jack's puppet show and poem.  Cari and Porter were besties growing up (he unofficially officiated their wedding last summer) and the both Cari and Jack are clever and funny.  Their entire poem was written in limericks (not easy!) and our puppets look great (okay, I look a little angry, but with dangly arms I can't be anything but cute).

2. My brothers singing Love is a Triathlon. Should have seen this coming.  Earlier, Brent has pitched a little fit about not having the speakers (forgot to pack them from the night before, oops!), so I think one of my parents' friends ended up bringing them.  This is why.  Lots of references to spandex, a deep bass interlude by Jake, and lots of innuendo.

3. Maria singing Eyes on the Prize.  She walked up with a guitar after the boys with the remark 'this is so embarrassing, I had the same song prepared... I guess I'll just have to wing it!'  It's important that I tear up at least once in the program, and this was my moment.  Maria has one of those clear, perfect voices and the song, about being IN 100% was clear and perfect.

 4. Porter and Trish: on what it means to be a Bratten.  A stand-up routine of sorts advising me what to expect in joining the family.  Trish is a funny lady, and Porter too. These two spent 20+ years just the two of them, so they've got a parent-child dynamic that's pretty tough to beat. This is fun family to join.

5. My dad and I singing Tonight You Belong To Me with my Mom and Kelsie as helpers.  I always wanted to sing this song with my dad at my wedding and I got to.  I'm not so great at singing in front of people, but luckily I haven't seen any video of it and it was too much of a blur to remember how it went, so I can't be embarrassed with the turnout.

And toasts! Willie and Bob both gave great toasts to Porter.  Good men!

After all was sang and done, and thank yous and good byes were said, Porter and I were sent away with ribbon wands.  We boarded the seriously luxurious MV Katherine Jane, conveniently moored at the end of CWB's I don't know how long it is really but it's long enough to comfortably fit this 58'   dock


Best night ever.

More photos of festivities:

Why yes, I do like backpacking!

One great perk of being one half of a two part duo (i.e. this new thing I'm experiencing some people like to call marriage), is that I can say "Hey, Porter, let's go _______ next weekend" (fill in the blank with any high or low adventure, passing thought of an idea of an activity that may be more fun than sitting around and staring at a wall [not that I knock staring at walls, it's one of my favorite past times]) and no matter how passive or half-hearted my suggestion, if it's a good one, it might actually happen. Sometimes this is meeting up in Issaquah after work for a waltz around Target (our crazy weekday nights, I know), sometimes it's a walk around the neighborhood.

This weekend it was backpacking.

Now, I like backpacking.  At least was pretty sure I did when warm weather forecasts and a rare open weekend prompted me to suggest it earlier this week.  There are a number of hobbies I have thought I liked more than I do in reality.  Many of these are carryovers from college, when new hobbies and interests are introduced rapid fire.  Many are carryovers from old boyfriends, or love interests, when new hobbies and interests, no matter how dull, carry an extra sense of allure.  I am slowly but surely working out which interests I say I have, I'm actually interested in.  Oil painting is fun, but not worth the expensive and stinky supplies (I'm currently trying out oil pastels with positive internal reviews); I could never quite get into the oomph of kick boxing (yoga, please);  I do like climbing it, just not as much as a series of men in my life made me think I did (one to two routes is really plenty, I mean it).

My "Do I like this?" face

This weekend was a litmus test to see where backpacking falls on my Actual Current Interest meter, where I'm not kidding myself or trying to prove anything to anyone around me.  I can admit it: I like car camping.  Shove it, lightweight back-country snobs of my college years, that's what I say.  There's value in being able to dump an air mattress and cooler full of food in the trunk of your car, dumping it out for a night or two and enjoying fresh air and the novelty of outdoor cooking.

Tellin those streams who's boss

But wait, car camping isn't the end all. Backpacking is great too!  My brand new backpack (a wedding gift from coworkers) fits like a dream and my impulse buy hiking shoes from Nordstrom Rack over a year ago are oh so waterproof and comfortable.  Yes, my feet are sore and I have bruises on my apparently freakishly protruding hip bones where my pack balanced the weight.  But oh what a view.  And what a moment of peace.  This weekend was spot on perfect weather, almost hot enough to jump into a snow-fed lake.  We hiked in about 3 miles to Talapus Lake, camped there for the night, spent all day Saturday crossing streams and boulder fields and more snow banks than I would have thought would still be around, returned back to our campsite for the night.  Pratt Lake, Ollalie Lake, Island Lake... and beyond (that's high on nature talking).  Sunday morning we hiked out with enough time to sleep in, unpack, and give final tweaks to the bitchin' lessons we each gave at church.

Can't quite see here but Mt. Rainier is in the background

"Hells yeah I like backpacking!"

Half the Sky

The audiobook binge continues, and I'm 3/4 of the way through Nicholas Kristof (and his wife?)'s 'Half the Sky'.  Women, developing nations, criticism and praise of efforts mounted to solve their problems, and personal stories of heroes from the bush who rise above the hand they are dealt to make some difference.

One. I miss college, and having to read about these people, problems, and solutions (am I the only one who gets wistful at stories about oppressed women?)
Two. The world is a really depressing place for so much of the world (forget about violence against women, I need to articulate a rant against the idealistic view we have of community in the third world!)
Three. There are people (women mostly, at least in this book) who shake things up and make things better
Four. I want to be ones of these women.  But I don't know how.

Here's the video about the book.  There are some famous people in it



Sex trafficking. Domestic violence, Community ostracization, Maternal health (or lack thereof), Illiteracy, Women as property, as nothing.  There's not much more depressing and empowering (at the same time!)

The book quotes Bill Gates, speaking at a conference in Saudi Arabia who, when asked if SA was realistic in aiming to be in the top 10 of tech countries by 2015, responded, "If you're not utilizing half of your population, no, it's not realistic." (wonder if that came from Bill or Melinda)

Carbon copy that to any goal for any group, anywhere in the world.  If you're not utilizing half of your population, no, you're not getting anywhere.

Wedding

Best decision I ever made was to have an afternoon wedding.  Who schedules a life-changing, ever memorable event after a surely sleepless night, followed by a surely long long day? Idiots, that's who.

Not me.

I scheduled our 2 pm sealing when I was a temple worker.  Just stopped by between duties and, you know, planned my future.  NBD.  We chose Brother Alexander to be the sealer, one because I knew is wife and two, because my mom tells this story about how the first time she really heard the Sacrament Prayer, it was B. Alexander giving it.  "I thought he was GOD!" my Mom recalls.  Since there is no Yelp or wedding boards dedicated to reviewing temple officiants, I consisered this a pretty good recommendation.

We had a leisurely morning (Porter went for a bike ride and for breakfast with his mom), got my makeup done, snuck a few bites of leftovers from our Wedding Eve festivities, and about noon, my husband-to-be and I meandered over to the temple. It's all pretty methodical and unromantic, the check-in process.  I sent a friend to fill up my gas tank and waited longer than seemed necessary.

The butterflies finally came, well into the ceremony, after the sealer had given us advice and reminded us of the vast impact this decision will have on generations.  I was finally kneeling, looking straight at Porter and with my mouth unmoved and my eyes unwrinkled, I was smiling.  A smile is much more than body language, and when I felt Porter smile back at me with a straight mouth and unwrinkled eyes, we had our frozen moment and the next thing I knew we were kissing man and wife with a louder than I'd like to have had it smack.

Let the lifetime begin!

 

More photos of the newlyweds and company:

The Flip Side of Youth Conference

Months before I actually entered the family ward, my fate was determined when I invited the Young Women's president to my bridal shower. There was an opening emerging in her organization and she and the other counselors started petitioning that I be put in. I got the calling the morning of our first day in the ward, a full month before our records had arrived. Porter, not having the lifetime of experience with half the ward, just got his calling last week. Now we have matching callings as Secretaries for both YM and YM. Adorable, right?

Totally separate from this honor was the call to chaperone you conference. This stake isn't wasting any time!

Being group leaders was mostly uneventful, except for a few near breakdowns (or actual breakdowns if tears qualify for such a title), mostly girls not feeling lonely and awkward (14 years old, what's new), and an absolute downpour at the best possible time- in the middle of our group's field games, twenty minutes before closing events (thankfully planned undercover). President Tanner didn't waste a moment of unplanned face time with the kids and somehow planted a singing flash mob in the middle of his address.

The dance was interesting enough for people-watching, made more interesting by a surprisingly meaningful and inspiring Bishop from some other ward. He talked about his experience with start-ups and the fun of starting out in a way that was deceptively sage. By that I mean we both walked away feeling empowered and excited to build good things in life and in business, but we didn't feel like we had must received a counseling session. Sneaky mentor, whose name I never caught and whose face I only remember with mosquitoes swarming about.

What a skill to be able to spread wisdom so subtly and without condescension. What a skill indeed.