The Country Family Wedding

This weekend we had the pleasure of attending a Melberg family wedding. As you would guess, a large majority of my generation is married. They have kids themselves, and in the year's ahead, we will start to have graduations to attend.

This past weekend my Dad's youngest cousin's son, Mitch Melberg, got married. He is in his 20's, those ripe marrying years. I cannot say I have any sort of personal relationship with Mitch. I cannot say I watched him grow up. What I can tell you is, I am from a tight-knit, strong farm family. Getting married is an opportunity to rangle the relatives (distant and close), to gather, and to celebrate. It beats the alternative, which is funerals!

Mitch married a pretty girl named Miranda, and by all accounts they appeared very happy. I didn't get a photo. The truth is, as much as I wish the young couple well in their new life together... many guests are invited and come to celebrate the greater meaning of FAMILY - young and old, near and far, good and bad, the blessings and the hardships.

It is good to gather for the blessings. For those VERY FEW readers who are NOT of my family, I wish I had taken a picture of the venue, for historical purposes. The dinner and dance was hosted at the Lake Marion Ballroom. An old, pole barn like structure sitting on a country lake, with a gravel parking lot. This is your A-typical country wedding reception location. We ate a buffet of turkey and ham with mashed potatoes, gravy, corn, and stuffing, served from giant white roasters. We sat at long banquet tables.

Again, all of this is your standard small town wedding fair. We don't comment on the venue, or the menu, or the decor, because it is much the same as the prior wedding. We talk about family, kids, and life. We catch up. We smile. Men discuss the crops. We talk about who is there, and who couldn't make it. We talk about how long it has been...We talk about how we don't see each other nearly often enough. We have a good time.

The Melberg's of my generation drink free keg beer from a plastic cup, or a rail drink from the bar. Our spouses hope we don't drink too much. Sometimes some of us do, and sometimes some of us don't. (There was that rental-tux-shoe-tap beer thing for too many weddings is a row....)The generation before me sit next to their sisters (Jan and Shirley), or brothers. The adult kids are at the next table. We reserve the table next to us for our closest cousin's (or something like that).

The little kids act goofy.

They create distractions before dinner. The generation before me comment about how much they have grown, and how time flies.

After dinner the second cousins form a posse, even though they only see each other a hand full of times a year. They run in. They run out. They play like wild indians. (Please forgive me for not being P.C... this is reflection, so it fits.)

The parent's of my generation (me) hope the older cousins of the next generation (Mikayla and Mariah) are helping to watch their kids, because the city cousin (me) wants time to catch up with the country cousins she wishes she could hang out with more.

Eventually you coax the little kids inside and get them on the dance floor.

When the little kids are tired and begin the MELT DOWN, somebody takes them home.

The Thomberg's actually headed to Aunt Jan and Uncle Sheldon's to stay over. The little kids rejoined their second cousin's and had a GRAND OLD TIME sleeping in a tent, where they were looked after by their older second cousins. Mark and I retired to a nice comfortable bed in the guest room!

To all my wonderful relatives, it was a delight to see you! The time is always too short!

To the generation before me, do you see history repeating itself?
I am sure this is like a mirror image of weddings I attended with my mom and dad, at Marly and Dean's age.

Sweet Corn

I love sweet corn. I suspect most every KID loves sweet corn. This Sunday we had our first local sweet corn of the season. We bought it at a vegetable stand/nursery along Hwy 10 on our return trip from the Huwe's house.

Today, my cousin's Matt and Mike grow Green Giant sweet corn (and peas). We didn't do this growing up though. I have vivid memories of buying our local sweet corn from the Elfring kids on Hwy 212, between Hector and Bird Island, on the south side of the road. My mom would pull over on the way back from our regular Saturday cleaning time (with Dee, Kris and Toots) at my Grandpa's in B.I.

The Elfring kids would sell it from the back of a pick up, parked in their field approach. Aside from their Green Giant crop, they grew a bunch of acres for their own personal sales. My mom use to allude they were saving their corn money for their collage fund. My mom always served the sweet corn with meat - hamburgers (pattied from the frozen Hector Meat Market ground beef in the deep freeze) or Schweigert hot dogs usually. Sweet corn was always for supper, and never for lunch. (But of course, lunch is dinner in the country. Back then, dinner was often a big, heavy meal for the working men.)

She would tell Brett and me if we didn't eat at least a few bites of meat with all those ears of corn, we would get the oopy-doopys! She was very serious about this. (Okay... my mom was never all that serious!)

Of course we rolled our sweet corn in butter, creating a mess of the dish. As an adult, Mark and I do the same with our own kids.

I remember summer as a kid thinking I could never get enough corn. I would have eaten it for every supper. I remember my mom shucking the corn outside on the step, with a brown paper bag in front of her. Usually, she broke the ears in half. I remember the big pot of water boiling on the stove. I remember the steam. I remember my mom running cold tap water over the corn to cool it off so we could eat it.

I do it the exact same way for my kids!