Tanya Writes About, well, being a MOBster

(No. She did not Say Yes to this Dress. But it was, briefly, a contender.)

Current read: (not a lot of time these days. These are great stories but I'm not quite done with the last one...) Cranberry Hearts, Barbour anthology.

We're in the countdown now. Nine months of planning have evaporated into six more days. Bridesmaids' luncheon is tomorrow...I'm finishing up the ring-bearer pillow, made from a scrap of the white satin I used to make her presentation dress for the sorority during Parents Weekend not all that long ago...fellow Cactus Rose author Paty Jager is filling in for me next Wednesday at Petticoats and Pistols...

Tuxes to get. Yellow satin ribbons to tie around the programs. Envelopes to address for the wedding favors--LIVESTRONG yellow bracelets. Mani-pedi, Massage. Last Wednesday's practice daddy-daughter dance (to Tim McGraw's "My Little Girl") had me so misted up I know I'll be comatose during The Real Thing.

That's because my hero told me, when the testicular cancer diagnosis smacked us in the head: Oh, I want to live to give my daughter away at her wedding.

Well, praise God. He's getting his wish!

I blogged a while back about the bone spur getting removed from my right foot. My intent was to heal up in time to get some kick-ass stilettos for the wedding. but I've have to content myself with three fun pairs of ballet slippers for the dancing part. I'll gut it through the black satin strappies during the ceremony. (I will not of course, wear all three. But I haven't yet decided which pair will make the cut. There is one pair, the Vera Wangs I did NOT get on sale, that will likely make the cut.)

After The Wedding is heartbreakingly over, and the lovebirds are sunning it up in Aruba, I'll get back to the blog with some of my good reviews for Marrying Minda and my oxymoronic goal to write an erotic short story AND an inspirational novella at the same time.

Do you think it can be done?

Be patient when nothing new appears here for a while. I've got a lot on that tiered crystal cake plate. So I'll leave you with an Old Scots Song.

The woman wasna taken
From Adam's head, ya know,
So she must no command him, (yeah right...this is me.)
'Tis evidently so;
The woman wasna taken from Adam's feet, you see,
So he must no abuse her--
The meaning seems to be.
The woman she was ta'en
From under Adam's arm,
Which shows he must protect her
From injury and harm.