So Much Talent, So Little Time

As many of you have been concerned about my dress dilemma, many more of you have been brainstorming to help me to decide how to participate in my sister's wedding in the meadow.  I have appreciated all of your ideas and am still accepting suggestions through the middle of August.  Please don't hesitate to throw in your two cents.  Although several of you more Progressive Readers have responded very enthusiastically to my musical puppet show idea, many more of you have frowned and shaken your heads disapprovingly (Mom).

The groom recently sent all of the siblings an email and graciously invited us all to be participants in some way in the nuptials.  The "some way" has been left up to our individual discretion.  We have pre-approved status!  The groom's sister immediately dibsed doing a daring trapeze routine, without a net.  We have been told that the groom's brother will act as the Master of Ceremonies, or the Ringleader, as the case may merit.  The bride's brother has some fascinating magic tricks up his sleeve, and I would hate to be a spoiler, but if you haven't seen the one where he levitates sunglasses, you have really missed out.  Additionally, he can juggle pretty much any sort of vegetable.  That leaves the bride's sister, Yours Truly.

You know that I have many talents.  The problem is, which one to showcase for three minutes during the ceremony?  Perusing through my past posts, the Alert Reader will note that I am perfectly capable of growing herbs and making pesto, building round woodpiles, and turning out baked goods.  I am particularly talented at spotting socially unacceptable behavior, pointing out the more fetid aspects of restrooms, public or private, and denouncing street side panhandlers.  Recently I have become skilled at evaporating milk in the privacy of my own home.  My hobbies include scrapbooking, reading British historical mysteries, and Middle Eastern dancing.  With so many skills, it is difficult to choose just one.

It has been suggested that, donning my hip scarf and zils, I belly dance to the sound of a mizmar, while balancing a chair in my teeth.  You can see me practicing in this never-before-seen video.  I am only sorry that you are unable to hear the howling of the mizmar in the background.

Incidentally, in traditional Egyptian weddings, a mizmar player leads the wedding procession and is accompanied by a belly dancer.  So this idea is not really as far out as you think.  Click here to hear the Egyptian equivalent of "Here Comes the Bride" and imagine me dancing to it.  The only hangup in this plan is that neither the bride nor the groom is Egyptian, thus dashing my hopes of performing in their traditional Egyptian wedding.

Helpful Readers have suggested that I bring my own hot plate to the meadow to make mints and pass them out as wedding favors, or give a quick lesson on how to substitute ingredients in a recipe.  Most recently I have mastered making my own curry spice.  I am quite confident that, even in a meadow, I could replicate the recipe, captivating the guests with my abilities in measurement while inspiring mutual love and devotion in the bride and groom.

Will Southwest Air  allow this as a carry-on?

I have considered throwing in with the groom's sister and doing a tandem trapeze act with her, but I hate to horn in on her action, which promises to be spectacular.  Truth be told, I am still leaning toward the musical puppet show.

My cousin made the cute ones.

This will not be my first public performance as a puppeteer in a meadow.  Many summers ago my cousin and I made puppets out of athletic socks, muslin and a fur glove.  We accessorized them with dried grass and hair.   I can remember staying up late several nights in a row, depleting the supplies of Scotch tape, thread and safety pins.  We wrote a script and rehearsed nonstop.  As we were vacationing on an island, our stage was conveniently the hull of a dilapidated boat.  We made posters advertising the upcoming debut and hung them in well-frequented areas.  When the day came, the meadow was full of little children and their doting parents.  What I remember the most is that we had a bag of orange-flavored, peanut-shaped marshmallows that we hated.  Those marshmallows were passed out as refreshments and probably made more of an impact than the actual puppet show.

So you see, Enthralled Reader, if you had any doubts or concerns about my expertise as a puppeteer, in a meadow, they should now be vanquished.  I am well versed in puppet creations and scriptwriting.  As long as I pass out orange peanut-marshmallows to the wedding guests, everything will be fine.