zoom

Once we got to Glacier, the weekend rushed by.

It seemed like all sensory input had a hard time making an imprint on my brain. It was hard to remember what people had told me five minutes later; it was hard to stop and take in the weekend. I tried to make time for all 100 friends and family, and in the end felt I didn't get enough time with any of them.
Staying up drinking until the wee hours of the morning Thursday night didn't help; certainly it made dealing with Friday morning tough. But mostly, the sensation was caused by the sheer amount of details and people to deal with. I didn't feel particularly stressed most of the time, but I did occasionally feel overloaded.

I probably didn't have to be. Most of the details were taken care of by others; our extended families took on several chores, and our friends pitched in with free labor whenever we asked. But since I had dealt with setting up much of the logistics and plans I felt I had to at least check on most of it (and Kirsten helped with some of the details I forgot to check on).

In the end there were no major crises, and everything went well. When it was all finished, I just realized I had very little grasp on individual memories of the event. I can pick them out if I try, but the overall impression on my memory is one big blur.

Two of my favorite quotes from the wedding came from friends who weren't even there.

A few days afterward, I checked me email and saw this message from Ryan regarding a blog post my brother Scott wrote:

I saw Scott's blog post, which was abbreviated in the RSS directory to "Today is my brother's wedding. It was a disa....", which I naturally extended to "disaster". I clicked on it with a beating heart, but as you probably know, the word was "disappointment". So I'm glad to hear that it was not disastrous, at least as far as Scott knows.

(And the disappointment was not in the quality of the wedding. It was because my brother couldn't be there, as the Peace Corps decided to send him to Jamaica with some poor timing.)

The other message came just a day ago, from a friend in my old haunt of Hattiesburg.

Welcome back to your life! Not having to plan a wedding anymore may be the biggest single relief in the world.

True that.

more photos, officially

For those of you who would like to see a selection of photos put online by our official wedding photographers, Stephen and Gavin, instructions are below.

You can find the photos at http://www.pictage.com/336470. The event key is:
070707Eklund

Enjoy.

signs

I'm battling to get into the jogging habit. (Sure, it might not be the best activity for me, but it's an activity, and it's one I think I can realistically do consistently. I'm still trying to find an Ultimate Frisbee or softball team to join, but until then, I've got to work with my brain and do what I can.) I had it for a while when I first got to D.C., then a number of trips (not least two weeks in Montana) broke any schedule I once had.

This week I've tried to start again. My first day I made the same mistake I always do when starting - run too fast at the start, nearly collapse from exhaustion five minutes in.
Yesterday, though, I managed to strike a more leisurely pace, one I could maintain for about 45 minutes. For more than another hour, I fought the urge to walk by forcing myself into a few short bouts of running. But after I lost my stamina, the afternoon mostly became about trying to walk the line between getting lost in a new part of town and keeping my bearing enough to return home. Part of me always hopes to get lost, just to figure out the challenge, but I also would just as soon be able to get back to the apartment within an hour of deciding it's time to head on back.

Most of my runs start in the finger of Rock Creek Park behind the apartment. It's easy to get lost in here; there's a number of named trails, but the signage is often lacking. It'll point you on your way, then the trail will pop out of the woods at a street intersection, with no indication of which way to go. It usually takes me at least a couple of tries to figure out where a trail goes once I decide to take it.

I've noticed a general problem with signs across D.C., at least outside of the National Mall area. Bus stops often list fares from at least two increases ago - if someone hadn't told me, I'd have had no idea I needed to get more change ready the first time a bus arrived. The road network to get out of downtown to Virginia is also less informative than I would like; until you've tried a route once, you have no idea just what lane you're required to be in to arrive where you want to go, or even where a particular road will end up.

But in the park, I mind the lack of information less galling. Getting lost is part of the attraction. Yesterday was no real exception - the signs lasted a bit longer than usual, but I still found myself taking random turns on sidewalks after the trail suddenly seemed to disappear.

I hadn't run west yet; I was pleased to find myself at the Potomac River and with the option of taking either one of a pair of trails I'd run into before, at a different spot. I've started to map out some longer routes in my head. Perhaps it'll come in handy if I ever get my bike fixed.

Stephen has put me to shame. Not only did he get a written account of the whole wedding up well before I did, but the writing was good, as well as the photos. I'm not sure I'll be able to compete.

So while I'm still composing my thoughts, go over to his blog post and check out the 29 photos he has up, along with a written account of his weekend as a wedding photog.

down on the farm

Before we actually headed up to Glacier National Park for the big event, we spent almost a week with my family on the farm where I grew up.

As usual for any family gathering, several aunts and uncles on my mom's side (who grew up on the farm) came out to spend time on the homestead as well. This time, there were some extra faces in the July 4 crowd. Some of Kirsten's family, as well as my best man and her maid of honor, came out a few days early to see the farm as well.

This worked out better than I had imagined - it was some of the only real time I felt I got to spend with anyone all weekend. It's sometimes a bit disconcerting to show friends aspects of your life that did not include them, but also always fun to see your childhood haunts through a different set of eyes.

(Although my childhood home has been going through an extended renovation ever since I left 10 years ago - brand new floors throughout, a re-roofing with expansion and a full deck have been added. I think my parents didn't know what to do with all their time once four kids left the house.)

We arrived at the farm one week before the wedding, Saturday night. On Sunday mom invited the town over for an open house/pre-wedding reception (a decent proportion of the town showed up - 30 people). Monday we drove up to Fort Benton for the blood test (Montana forced Kirsten to get tested for Rubella, for some reason). Tuesday the friends arrived, and Wednesday was a party for July 4. The afternoon was spent at my uncle's, 10 miles down the road. Kirsten's nephews and niece stole the show, running around trying to catch chickens and cows, petting the horse and demanding, and getting, a ride on the tractor (the much-anticipated highlight for any 5-year-old).

The crowd moved back to my parents' for the evening, capped off by the fireworks. July 4 fireworks always kick off fairly late back home, since the sun doesn't go down until almost 10 and darkness doesn't set in until closer to 11 in mid-summer. My best man, Tom, had taken the opportunity to load up on fireworks, as had my uncle, and all of them were shot off.

Before the fireworks, Kirsten's young relatives had taken it upon themselves to explore this new farm, as well (of course). The photo above is the oldest, Bradley, carrying stalks of wheat in our back yard.

For those of you looking for a photo:



(Thanks to Steph for the pic).

wedding

As I was waking up the other day, my mind struggled to identify an odd weight on my finger. After a second, it clicked. The lump was my still-new wedding ring.

If I was writing a short story, this detail would serve as a metaphor for nagging doubt, or perhaps realization the marriage was dragging my life down from the heights of my dreams. Or something.

Thankfully, this isn't a short story. The weight isn't a metaphor, it's just an anecdote about my ring being too new for my mind to take for granted. The titanium ring is slightly raised and now prevents my pinkie from nestling up against my ring finger. My mind most often interprets this sensation as a swollen finger - to my pinkie, it feels like my ring finger has been injured and swelled to the point it has lost feeling. To my ring finger, my pinkie is insane. It's just a little bit of metal to haul around, most of the time unnoticeable. I'm sure before long my mind will become accustomed to the ring's presence and no longer bring nerves' signals regarding the ring to my attention.

For now, this marriage thing is new, but the ring is about the only evidence it happened. Well, the ring and the pile of newly-acquired kitchen products we need to find space for. Next month, I'll hopefully be covered under my new spouse's health insurance, which will make a big difference if I need it but none at all to my daily life.

As the wedding approached, many people asked if I was nervous. Generally there wasn't any nervousness, except on a few occasions when I wasn't sure some of the details for the reception would come off exactly right. But it was obvious the questions weren't about the ceremony or celebration itself.

The questions all had an undertone of "are you nervous about the whole idea of getting married?"

It is, of course, a valid question. Any major, irrevocable decision about life's path is bound to be accompanied by some nervousness. Especially if for you, like me, the phrase "growing up" sounds vaguely sinister rather than a goal to be embraced.

And there was some nervousness about the whole big-picture idea of getting married. For me, and, if she was telling me the truth, for Kirsten as well. It didn't happen as the ceremony approached, though.

For me, the real nervousness came not at the wedding, but rather at the proposal. That's when the natural and expected questions came to the fore: Is this really a good idea? What if it goes wrong? Does this mean I have to grow up and quit doing all those irresponsible things I do? (No.) That was a couple years ago. None of those doubts were seriously carried along to the wedding day. The big ones were dispelled over the past couple years, when, as Kirsten said, we've essentially been married anyway. Certainly while we were out of the country we were rarely apart, and we had to deal with the day-to-day details of living together and melding our different life visions together. Now, the only real difference the wedding made is I'm wearing a ring and I can get on her health insurance.

wedding advice

When we were looking into the details of our marriage in Montana we tried to find out who, exactly, could perform the ceremony.

Several people told us anyone could marry you in Montana. This was welcome news, since there wasn't anyone we knew in the area who fit in the traditional clergy/justice of the peace boxes and we didn't really want to hire someone just to do the ceremony.
We did have someone in mind - late in the evening after my brother's wedding, my uncle volunteered to officiate our wedding. I'm not sure he remembered his promise when we called him up several months ago to take him up on the offer, but he graciously accepted and did a wonderful job (complete with showing up to the day-before-the-wedding dinner dressed as a monk or jedi, depending on who you asked).

In the months leading up to the wedding, we realized Montana law did indeed limit who, exactly, could perform a wedding. I don't think my uncle falls into any of the categories, although I'm also fairly sure Montana wouldn't bother to check.

But rather than set us up for a possible headache, we found another provision in the law. Montana allows for a Declaration of Marriage without the need for a license or ceremony. Simply type up a statement which covers the specific details listed in the law, show up to a courthouse with two witnesses, pay the $53, and it's done. (Don't forget to get the blood test first).

I don't think many people take advantage of this option. Chouteau County officials said ours was the first Declaration of this kind they'd ever filed. They were happy enough to do it; they said it required less paperwork for them.



EDIT: I have been corrected. My uncle, is, indeed clergy. So we probably could have been fine under Montana's clause "in accordance with any mode of solemnization recognized by any religious denomination".

He says: The US Government is loath to judge the merits of various churches, so getting ordained through an ad in the back of a magazine is as legit as going to seminary in their eyes.

We were aware he'd gotten a back-of-a-magazine certificate. However, once we found the easy way out, we decided it wasn't worth it to check into how Montana determined if he was, indeed, acting in a manner recognized by "any religious denomination."

in D.C.

I'll get to the wedding posts in a minute, but I'll start by working backward. We arrived back in D.C. on Thursday night after nearly two weeks in Montana. Thankfully, D.C. was kind to us on the first day back. Humidity was at the low end, which made for a beautiful day (it wasn't until yesterday the soul-stifling mugginess returned, but at least we had a couple days to start the acclimation process).
Friday night we also took advantage of D.C.'s summer habit of free events. The National Symphony Orchestra was playing a free evening program outside in the Carter Barron Amphitheater in Rock Creek Park. Concert was good, although the accompanying cicadas were neither on time or in tune.
Saturday we had tickets to see The Decemberists accompanied by the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra. I've been playing the Decemberists nearly nonstop on my iPod for the last few months, so it was a show we'd been looking forward to. The symphony gave even more of an epic feel to their tragedy-story songs (which is most of them). A thoroughly enjoyable evening.
It was a much-needed ease into the return to reality after the break. Yesterday the ease was mostly gone; we spent the day in big-box suburban hell (Northern Virginia) to deal with a few wedding-gift exchanges and to use our new gift cards.

Now that the wedding is over, time to deal with the other two items on my list: figuring out how to maximize the space in our apartment and getting a job. Neither seems particularly enticing.

we're back

The Internet rumors are true - I did indeed get married last weekend.

We're now back in DC, so I'll get some impressions from my two-week trip to Montana (and the wedding) up soon. For now, thanks to everyone who made the trek to Montana or who sent us well wishes.

it's a dry heat

We're in Montana, and the countdown has officially begun - wedding is on Saturday.

Most of the details have been planned, now it's just case of putting the plans into reality and making sure nothing fell through the cracks. People keep asking if I'm nervous - haven't really had a chance to think about it like that lately. All the details can get in the way of the big picture.

I'm mostly looking forward to seeing everybody. My family has started to arrive, and a few friends will show up on the farm before heading to Glacier. Thursday we head north to meet everyone else up at the Park and further stress about the details. Thankfully, we should have a day or two in the park afterward to decompress.

Also have to enjoy ourselves this week. The weather out here beats D.C. - it was close to 90 yesterday, but no humidity means the shade is cool. And it actually gets cooler once the sun goes down. Might hit 100 this weekend - stay out of the sun (especially if you happen to have a hangover, as I'm sure I won't at any point).