Friday afternoon, Adam and Jayci and I packed it up and headed back down to camp for a dear friend's wedding (she also happens to be Adam's boss's daughter and the reason we worked for camp in the first place). Despite the weirdness of being at camp without kiddos, we still had a great time. And I, personally, felt pretty impressed by how quickly and beautifully things are moving along in the building phase of camp. Our motto, apparently, at Camp Grace is "go big or go home." For that reason, our camp is pretty much the best ever. Just saying.
Here I am with the bride and my little Jayc-face at the rehearsal dinner. The area where camp is located is apparently some sort of camp mecca, and there are lots of other camps in the area. As a matter of face, the rehearsal dinner was at another camp just down the street from ours. Please refer to above if you're wondering which camp was better. Not that it matters. . . With the BEAUTIFUL bride before the ceremony.
Look at those flowers! Loved them. It turns out our camp neighbor (who, by the way, is the nicest person ever) is also a talented wedding coordinator/floral arranger/farmer/cow wrangler extraordinaire!
A few more shots from the ceremony in the newly-completed amphitheater, overlooking the lake. I mean it was flat-gorgeous (all of it: the setting, the ceremony, the bride, my baby . . . )
Our neighbor's cute kiddo. I was powerless to resist taking her picture.
And this one. Well this one just melts me every time. EVEN when she's "falling out" big time because that horse-drawn carriage the bride just rode in on? She simply MUST go look at it. She was quite insistent on it, totally disregarding the fact that I was hoping to, you know, watch my friend get married and all.
The happy couple having their first dance under the lights in the tent. Awww.
Here's the camp crew reunited and being ourselves. Notice I am the only normal one. And I dont want any comments from the peanut gallery regarding definitions of normal and so on and so forth.
Although I know you love looking at my pictures, since this post is quickly approaching novel (or picture book at least) in length, I will end it here. No need to thank me for that. I know when enough is enough. At least I usually know. Or sometimes know. Whatever.