Four Hundred (Red Headed) Children Before

About eighteen years ago this day my sister Page married this guy named Vance (a red-headed cyclist) and had a very cheerful wedding dinner the night before at the Sundance lodge (where a Celtic band played during dinner) and I presented my sister with a handmade quilt (with blocks cut from our childhood dress-ups) and when I presented her with that quilt I read a (tearful, there were tears) rhyming poem about each year of our lives together but more importantly I was wearing a dramatic voluminous (think: this) white dress (Page wore black) and I remember thinking (yes, I am serious) that I was so, so Important, yes, even more important THAN THE BRIDE, but it wasn't until tonight (as I thought about that evening so many years ago) that I came to full terms with this embarrassing truth.

And it's not like Page (or Vance) read my blog, but anyway, I just wanted to say sorry for my silly adolescent self-centeredness and (I hope you liked the quilt).

Happy Anniversary.

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