Bye-Weeks Are The Worst

Yesterday, the former associate pastor from Anna's old church got married. So we went to the wedding. It was nice enough. I just have to say this though: I am extremely spoiled by Anna and her music major friends. I'm around good music all the time. This makes it hard for me to judge between mediocre music and the truly bad, but this was overall the worst wedding singing I've ever heard.
There were camels standing in the parking lot of the church. That was kind of interesting. Apparently, the bride likes camels.
After the wedding, we went over to the in-laws' place and had dinner. Sarah even showed up with a home made apple pie.
There was about an hour gap between when we got back to the house and when Sarah was supposed to show up. Anna's father decided to use that time to run in to Lowe's for some lumber. He took me along. This is always a chilling prospect. Whenever the father of my wife wants to go somewhere alone with me I fear for my life, or at the very least, I fear I'm about to get a good talking to. Fortunately, I'm still alive to write about this, and he didn't even seem to have a bone to pick with me. I guess he just likes having a guy around sometimes.
Dinner was fine. We had fried chicken and mashed potatoes. Or at least, that is what I had. The rest of them ate this broccoli/cauliflower salad. Blech. We finished dinner with Sarah's apple pie. She did a nice job.
After dinner, Anna's father climbed into their persimmon tree and shook down the persimmons, for Anna, Sarah, and I to pick up. Anna found some interesting looking recipes for persimmons, and I guess we'll put those to the test this week. Persimmons kind of scare me though. They look like rotten tomatoes, and the ripe ones explode when they fall to the ground.
Sarah decided she wanted to be Minnie Mouse for Halloween, so Anna helped her make some ears for her costume. Sarah even has a polka-dot dress for the occasion. Apparently, when she saw it in the store she couldn't help buying it, reasoning, "why would anyone ever buy this hideous thing?"
Anna's cousins, Scott and Rachel, really wanted to get together with us last night. At first, they talked about going to a haunted house but eschewed that idea in favor of renting a movie. Rachel rented "The Last House on the Left." Honestly, it wasn't really as awful a movie as I suspected, though that is probably more due to Rachel's own personal movie preferences than anything this one had to offer. It was more of a thriller than a horror movie, which made it especially funny to watch Rachel's reactions. She kept jumping and squealing at moments that weren't even designed to be that horrifying. I reminded her that this wasn't even that kind of movie. I think we did all at least enjoy the final demise of the antagonist, however unrealistic it may have been (let's just say it involved a microwave).
Today, we really didn't do much. I took Daisy out to use the bathroom a couple times. We watched enough of the Colts game to know that the rest would just be more of the same. The Broncos have a bye this week, making this the worst week of the football season. We slept a little. Dishes and clothes got washed. Leftovers got eaten.
Dark blue.
People who read this blog: Person from India.
Person from India could be India. India is huge. And it is pointy. India produced Gandhi, perhaps the most overrated human being ever. India person, you are solely responsible for the American Indians being known as Indians. It is all your fault that North America stood in the way of Columbus and his spice route dreams. India person, your country is famous for spicy food, but I dare you to come to the U.S. and eat any number of the different "nuclear," "blazin'," or "atomic" hot wings this great land has to offer. I dare you to swallow a cap-full of Dave's Hot Sauce and not break a sweat. I challenge you my India person friend. Bring it. Pray to any of your millions of gods to save you from the wrath of the buffalo wing. Be grateful too, that it is a chicken wing and not some sort of beef dish, you beef worshipping pansy. (Is this getting offensive? Should I stop? Probably)