Monday morning, coming down,,,

Notice no picture. Camera is in absentia. I left it behind yesterday morning at the last of the many, many celebrations for my one and only daughter as she wedded her darling Jeff in the sweetest, most tasteful, most coordinated, loveliest wedding ever. Don't worry. Father of the bride in in possession of my little Canon, and now making arrangements to get it back. What a weekend. Fortunately, I planned on a quiet month of recuperation, because I know my tender little self. I am easily over-stimulated, and never more so than over the last 72 hours, which I spent only about 20 asleep. Fatigue and emotional overload led me to spend the remainder of the day Sunday after the requisite day-after-the-wedding brunch, held 40 miles from my front door (I put 200 miles on the Focus this weekend alone) in tears accompanied by some primal screaming, which the dogs tolerated fairly well, they were so happy to have me home for a change. Little girl is on her way to Portugal as we speak, for two weeks of European decompressing. Gee, that would be nice, wouldn't it. Cannot tell you how beautiful and sophisticated she was. Check out Carrie Bradshaw in the first Sex and the City movie for reference photos (no bird on her head though, just a tasteful fascinator). Groom was suitably dashing, himself. All was wondrous, sparkly around the edges, Wonderland of homespun and simplicity. Proud isn't a big enough word. Pictures to follow. Meanwhile, still in jammies, on way to milk and cookies and nothing worthwhile, for a while.