The Land of Wooden Shoes and Windmills

My darling Emily lives in Holland, Michigan, and she's getting married to an adorable lumberjack of a man named Tim. (Okay, he's not a lumberjack. But I'd be willing to bet that he could lift a tree. I mean, the man hunts BLACK BEARS). Seriously, they are sickeningly adorable.

There's not going to be any cake.

Anyway, the wedding shower was Saturday, and rather than drive two and a half hours west, stay for the two-hour shower, and drive home, I thought that I would head out there after work on Friday. Which I did.

(Isn't this a RIVETING story so far?)

Emily and I have been friends since we were eight years old, and there is something special about friendships like ours. After college and an induction into the real world, childhood and high school friends aren't always abundant features in one's life. With the onset of adulthood, we face significant changes from starting college to starting new jobs and sometimes moving around from place to place.

I don't know if it's the same for everyone, but for me, I have retained only a few childhood friends. Emily and I, though, have weathered it all. Elementary school rivalries, high school boys, and colleges on different sides of the state. I am honored to stand up in her wedding, as she'll be in mine.

I wasn't in Holland for even twenty-four hours, but we managed to have a great time. A nice lady is fixing my bridesmaid dress, because the stupid dress place is stupid. The shower was surreal, but I'm sure that we'll talk about it for years. But seeing how much Tim's family loves her was the best part. It's what she deserves.

There was much that we didn't have time for (farmer's market!), but that's all the more reason to go back. In like, a few weekends!

Friends for 21 years.
A whole person-who-can-drink long friendship!