Wedding Dress Dreams…Let’s Talk About It

  Wedding Dress

Let’s Talk About It…

How much did you (would you) spend on your wedding dress?

I spent zero. A very generous family member offered to pay for my dress as a wedding gift. (So of course, I picked the most expensive dress I could find!)

Okay, it wasn’t THE most expensive dress I could find. (I do have some sort of moral compass.) But I did choose a pretty pricey dress, a two thousand dollar pricey dress. I picked out this huge, fluffy, Disney Princess contraption of a wedding gown from Macy’s. It was beautiful but carrying around all that extra fabric left me tired and cranky by the end of the day.

Back then, if I had to pay for the dress myself, I would’ve spent the same amount or more. Weddings are special and we want them to be unforgettable.

However my 2014, thirty-five-year-old-with-two-small-children-and-a-budget self balks at spending that kind of money on a wedding dress. That kind of cash could be used on a couple of months of groceries and gas!

When the reality of day-to-day living sets in (especially for young moms who are in a constant care giving mode), it’s easy to forget there was once a time when spending thousands of dollars on this one day event was an investment well spent. After all, you are marrying the man you love.

So every so often, I’ll “splurge” by buying a cute outfit at Kohl’s or Target…from the sale rack…and marked down at least 50 percent.

It’s not very extravagant or dreamy, but it’s extravagant and dreamy enough for this thirty-five-year-old-with-two-small-children-and-a-budget.

Let’s talk about it: How much did you (would you) spend on your wedding dress?



The Fantastic, The Strange and The Ridiculous, a guest blog by Dorothy Adamek

Crazy Writer

You’re crazy.

Allow me to tell you, if you don’t already know.

Writers are a confirmed bunch of crazy people. It’s true. I’ve been told, so it must be.

I don’t mean the first dictionary definition.

  1. deranged of mind.I prefer the next one down.
  1. fantastic, strange and ridiculous.

Known to dive into crazy situations, we whisper crazy thoughts and hunt down crazy stuff. We sniff out the crazy in others and revel in their stories, mentally storing details to savor later in our scribbles.

It’s all part of the job description and none of us would be game to deny it.

We hear a delicious phrase and tuck it away for our good pleasure. Ponder the title of a book from a list of thoroughbreds about to race. Lose ourselves smelling fruit as we contemplate what best describes late autumn.

We visit places far from home to taste the wind. Just to get the crazy details right. Revisit childhood to unearth emotions only God can strengthen us to navigate again. And let the moon rise, hours after our beloveds have fallen asleep, to continue writing until dawn nudges the sky.

While others go about their normal day, we wander down a pathway no one else can see. We dawdle there and find something crazy enough to share with the dear one we call reader.

Last January, like every other summer, my kids swam in the waters of Australia’s Phillip Island. I stayed ashore, shivering in the absent summer. I would not play in frozen water… until one crazy thought gripped me and wouldn’t let go.

I wonder what it feels like to step in fully clothed? The way a character might in a moment of despair.

So I waded into the shallows and let the sea foam pull at my skirt with icy tugs. I let the waves assault my goose flesh until the black fabric stuck to my knees. And to my children’s horror, I ventured deeper and watched my clothes billow under me to the sway of the sea.

I just wanted to know. How would it feel to step out with sodden clothes clinging to my skin? How long would those tiny streams of water drip down my legs, and how much sand would my hem collect before I reached home?

Hours later I looked again, at the dusty salt marks in the creases of my skirt.

It was crazy and it was fun. And it was part of whom I’ve now become. A gatherer of details and experiences. A crazy writer.

Are you a crazy writer? Game enough to share a time when some craziness beckoned in your writing pursuits?

And if you’re too shy to admit a moment of craziness, remember crazy also means this.

  1. very good or excellent.

Ask any teenager. They’re crazy too!

Dorothy Adamek

Dorothy Adamek is an Australian writer of Historical Romance. She lives at Crabapple House with her Beloved and their three children, twenty fruit trees and Gilbert the cat. Come say G’day at her blog, Ink Dots.

I’m Talking About Materialism on Laura Kurk’s Blog Today!

Hey yall, I’m talking about Materialism today on Laura Kurk’s blog! Hop on over and say ‘hello.’


$200 B&B Weekend Getaway Giveaway & 9/9 Facebook Party with Deborah Raney!

Home to Chicory Lane Deborah Raney

The first book in Deborah Raney‘s new Chicory Inn series, Home to Chicory Lane, introduces us to Audrey Whitman, a mother who has launched all her children into life and now looks forward to fulfilling some of her own dreams during her empty-nest years. However, not all of her children are ready to stay out of the nest quite yet.

Deborah is celebrating the release of her new series with a $200 B&B Weekend Getaway and a Facebook author chat party.

One winner will receive:

  • A B&B Weekend Getaway (via a $200 Visa cash card)
  • Home to Chicory Lane by Deborah Raney

Enter today by clicking one of the icons below. But hurry, the giveaway ends on September 9th. Winner will be announced at the Home to Chicory Lane Author Chat Party on 9/9. Deborah will be hosting a heartfelt book chat, giving away prizes, and answering questions from readers. She will also share an exclusive sneak peek at the next book in the Chicory Inn series!

So grab your copy of Home to Chicory Lane and join Deborah on the evening of September 9th for a chance to connect and make some new friends. (If you haven’t read the book, don’t let that stop you from coming!)

Don’t miss a moment of the fun; RSVP todayTell your friends via FACEBOOK or TWITTER and increase your chances of winning. Hope to see you on the 9th!

My Review

This was a lovely story about empty nesters who are following their dreams after the children have left the roost…but then one of them returns. Funny, sad and complex. Raney tells the complicated story of the Whitman family with skill and and grace. I was really sympathetic to each of the characters, even when they were in conflict with one another. This was an all around emotionally satisfying read!


Love at First Sight? Let’s Talk About It.

Let’s Talk About It…

Do you believe in love at first sight?

I don’t.

Sorry if that sounds like a splash of cold water on your happily ever after, but I don’t. (And I write romance!)

Source: krmn777

Source: krmn777

When I first met my husband in Negril, Jamaica, it wasn’t love at first sight. He seemed like a cool guy. We talked. We danced. Then I lost my friends at the party…and he was the perfect gentleman. He gave me $40 to get a cab ride back to my hotel, and we parted ways.

That act of kindness piqued my interest, but it wasn’t love at first sight. When I returned to the States a week later, I wrote a check for the forty bucks, and mailed it to him with a card thanking him for the gesture. Afterwards, we talked on the phone and instant messaged each other. (Yes, this was when AOL had instant messaging. The olden days.) At the time he was attending college in Annapolis, and I was attending college in NYC so when he traveled to see me for our first date, I was flattered.

Ladies, so far this guy has scored points with me on two fronts. First, he shells out cash for my cab ride when I’m stranded. Second, he travels a long distance to see me.

But it wasn’t love at first sight.

I clearly remember that first date. We were riding an escalator at a mall, and I got a God Nudge. A God Nudge is one of those moments when the Holy Spirit in me says: “Pay attention. This one is special.” And so I paid attention and waited to see how all this would play out. Patience is a big part of this whole love thing. “Love is patient…Love is kind…”

But it wasn’t love at first sight.

The love grew over time. As we got to know one another, I started to like his laid back nature, his straight shooter ways. I was the hurricane and he was the calm sea, always steady, always unmoved.

It’s been like that for most of our marriage. I guess that’s why I’m the creative type and he’s the engineer type.

Still, I didn’t know I was in love until he got military orders to San Diego after he graduated.

This was our conversation:

Him: “I’ve got orders to go to San Diego. How about you move there with me and we live together?”

Me…the formerly backsliding but now on the straight and narrow path Christian: (I’m thinking: Live together?! As in shack up? No way. You ain’t getting any free milk over here, buddy.) So I said, “Can’t do that. If you want to live with me, then we have to be married.”

Him: Let’s do that then.

I dropped the phone.

I eventually picked the phone back up and said ‘yes’, but it wasn’t until I created a boundary that I learned about love. I grew up thinking love meant you have to have your boundaries invaded whether those boundaries were mental, emotional or physical.

True love respects the boundaries of the other person. True love creates healthy boundaries based on one’s personal values and beliefs. (I, for example, didn’t believe in shacking.  That was my boundary. That was my deal breaker.) And it’s worked out so far. We’ve been married for a good while now.

If he hadn’t proposed after I drew the line, I would have balled and squalled, but then I would have eventually picked myself off the floor and moved on. Because that’s love too- learning to love me.

Let’s talk about it: Do you believe in love at first sight? Leave a comment. I’d love to chat.