Three Days and Counting . . .

When we were little kids, really, really little, because we still lived at the old house on Correy St., Karen and I learned an eerie lesson one day: Don't touch hot cooking appliances. It was eerie because simultaneously, while Karen was outside cooking something on the grill with Dad or Uncle Steve, I was inside cooking something on the stove with Dad or Uncle Steve, at just about the same moment, Karen touched the hot grill and I touched the hot stove. Not a good idea. So we learned a little lesson: Don't touch hot appliances! (Steve and my dad also learned a lesson - don't cook with little girls with shrill voices!) (As it happens, I like it better when I learn about the painful side of life vicariously through Karen - if she does it first, often I'll just decide not to do it - getting ears pierced, getting tested for allergies, grabbing the hot end of a sparkler . . .) (I also like learning other lessons from Karen . . . like how to tie my shoes, blow bubbles, drive a stick shift, and, hopefully, how to have a happy marriage.)

So why do I bring up this eerie story today?

Michael's mom and step-dad came to town today to help us get ready for the wedding. Since they are going to be in town for Thanskgiving, and since the idea of going out to dinner for my favorite holiday really depressed me, Michael and I decided we would cook a small Thanksgiving meal for Carol and Vern at our house. (Plus, it's practice for next year, when my mom says I'll be hosting Thanksgiving . . .)

To preface this next paragraph, I just want to say that I am pretty certain I have never, ever burned my hand while taking a pie out of the oven before. Ever. In 30 years. And I actually make a lot of pies. So, why, three days before my wedding, did my hand slip as I went to take the pumpkin pie out of the oven, catching my finger on the 425 degree metal rack?? 'Which finger?' you ask. My ring finger on my left hand, just above the knuckle. Are you kidding me?? Last night I think I drove my mom and Tracy a little bit crazy, because I was being overly protective of a fingernail - catching myself from breaking down cardboard boxes just in time to prevent breaking the nail on my right thumb - a nail that will be nowhere near pictures of my brand new sparkling beautiful wedding band on Saturday! I held my finger under lukewarm, cool, and cold water, so hopefully the burn mark won't be too bad by Saturday.



Well, if a burned ring finger is as bad as it gets, I think my wedding day will be pretty wonderful.

I'll be keeping my other 7 fingers crossed . . .

(by the way, the pie was delicious)