u/Armadillo_Abroad

I gave in and got some of those scratch boxes that you dump a couple treats into and the cat scratches around to get them out. They file their claws down while they do this so you don’t have to trim their front claws as much/at all.

However, I just trimmed my cat’s claws and found that his right paw? All the claws nicely filed. Left paw? Pure talons. Long, sharp eagle-like talons (this may be a slight exaggeration, I trim his claws every two weeks).

So, I have to conclude that my cat is right pawed. He uses only that paw to get the treats from the box. It is only this moment that I realize that cats, and by extension possibly other animals, are right/left dominant.

I was watching Sisu and thinking about that word and how it can be translated but the full intention of the word doesn’t really cross. And then there is L’espirit de escaliar in French, and scheudenfeud in German. And it’s got me wondering, do we have words in English that don’t really translate into other languages? These are usually “concept” words, where the idea itself is culturally specific to that culture.

Hello potatoes and queen! This wedding story took place in the way back machine of the late 90s, and while my friend’s still talk/shake in horror when it comes up I haven’t really had a better place to share this until now. Let me…set the scene.

A bunch of friends are invited to drive up from Indiana where we lived while either finishing our Uni degrees or have just finished and are working in the area. I was married at the time so I’ll refer to my hub as that instead of ex (which is what he is now). Other players are Cathy (fake name), Bride, Groom, and a smattering of other young people.

We drive up in Cathy’s old minivan and my Ford Escort as a caravan heading to the wedding in Milwaukee. We had our Renn Faire garb with us for the theme wedding, and we’re heading up a day early since some of the group were in the wedding party. My hub was, I wasn’t (it was fine, he was closer friends with the bride and groom than me).

We arrive at about 7pm exhausted from the 5 hour drive but excited to see the bride and oh and ah over her dress. Except…there is no dress. There is a dress pattern, dress fabric, and the plan to give it to the dressmaker to make the dress but no actually giving it to her. So no dress! Also no groom’s outfit! Nothing for the couple to wear!

But! We’re Renn Faire going, LARP playing, craft-making, sewing people and we have about 13 hours! To Wal-Mart! (The ones in the area still had the craft section.) We grab fabric shears, needles, thread, pins, tailor’s chalk, a grommet punch, and whatever other odds and ends and we head to the groom’s hotel room. The guys have agreed to give us the room for the night and they’ll stay somewhere else. Four of us get to work. We cut patterns for the bride’s outfit: a chemise, a bodice, and an overskirt, plus a veil. (A chemise is the long nightgown-like underdress that keeps the expensive fabrics of the bodice and overskirt away from the sweat and grime of the body, and helps the dress lay correctly. It’s critical underwear.) We look at what’s needed for the groom. We decide his is less difficult so we’ll start on his tabard, which is pretty easy and go from there.

And we sew. And we sew. And we sew. Eventually, everyone else has passed out, it’s 3AM and I’m hand stitching the rolled hem of the veil in a blind stupor. We get the chemise, the veil, and the bodice mostly done. By 8am the guys come and tell us we have to take a break. They kick us out to the nearby Denny’s for breakfast.

When we return it’s decided that the groom will borrow most of his outfit from his groomsmen. My hubs gives him his pirate shirt, and wears a white button down collar shirt under his cloak. Cathy’s hubs loans him boots and wears tennis shoes instead. Someone has spare trousers, and wears khakis. But the bride is still a skirt short.

We’ve managed to finish everything, except the skirt. It’s cut and the panels are pinned, but it isn’t stitched or hemmed. And the bride and groom need to go to the venue for the rehearsal.

So Cathy and I stay behind to finish the skirt, while everyone else goes to the venue for rehearsal. An hour later we get a call. The wedding has to happen now! The band is booked for another event and if we don’t start in 30 minutes they’ll leave. So Cathy drives and I’m hand sewing the hem in the passenger seat and we fly down the freeway to the event (speed laws may or may not have broken).

We get there just as the vows finished! They didn’t wait! The bride was married in her bodice and chemise. Which is basically her underwear!

I burst into tears from exhaustion and frustration. Everyone who knows and is part of our little group gathers and comforts Cathy and me. We are fed up with this whole entire thing. Hugs and deep breathing and some not so kind words are tossed out in bitterness for about 15 minutes.

After calming down, we get the bride into the bathroom and get her into the skirt. She does her photos in full dress and the reception. She never mentions the effort we put in except a very small, private thank you, and doesn’t invite me to the head table to sit with my friends and hubs, despite all I had done.

But it didn’t matter. That just meant I got a table to myself and both bottles of champers on it. I had a very nice glass (or four) of cheap booze and let it go. I may have fallen asleep at the table for a bit, but that’s just between me and the tablecloth I drooled on.

In a move that will surprise no one, the couple was divorced less than 2 years later. And Cathy and I still refer to this as “the wedding from hell” and laugh while raising a glass.

Uni days were wild. (Oh, I live overseas now with a lot of Brits, in case you were wondering about my language usage. At the time I would have said college. 😅 Spot the expat English teacher.)

I typed this to a friend this morning, and then I sat and thought “huh, that’s a weird construction” (which I’d never pondered before until I started reading this sub). I know it’s part of my regional Southern US dialect, but I’ve lived abroad for many years and BBC’d my accent pretty hard, plus moved around all over when I was kid so my accents are blended and hodge-podge.

Question 1: Does this read more Tennessee/North Carolina Southern, more North Florida/Southern Georgia, or more Southern Texas Southern? I’m trying to place it in my mind where I picked this one up. It’s also possible I got this from my Northern Minnesota maternal family, so that’s in the mix as well.

Question 2: If you were non-Southern or non-native, would you know what I meant if you heard me say this? (It’s sort of like “I thought you could use something, maybe you don’t need it, but there is no harm in sharing this.” It’s a positive statement.)

I am just re-reading the “wilderness speech” of Lady Catherine and it struck me how similar the construction and mannerism her speech has to Darcy’s original proposal.

1. Both show up unannounced, to the confusion of Elizabeth.

2. Both assume she knows why they are there and just start right without any background details. Causing Elizabeth to be utterly stunned.

3. Both are so boorish in their manners and bluntness that Elizabeth calls out their behavior as Not Good.

4. Both get a No, but neither leave feeling satisfied.

Man, I’ve read this book umpty zillion times, and just now the full parallel structure hit me as obvious. Lady Catherine and her nephew both tread a similar path of behavior at the start of the book, but coming up against Elizabeth’s IDGAF you better come at me with some dang politeness or GTFO attitude and Darcy shifts course. Lady Catherine’s speech happens later, and she’s not particularly interested in actually listening so the available lesson goes past her.

Jane was doing some genius stuff here. Love it.