
Well, she is finally here, in our house, on the bed in the “wedding room” (as I affectionately call the guest room now).
She is resting there, carefully folded (squished, she complains) in a cotton garment bag, lightly veiled from the all-seeing eyes of one Mr. Shortcake.
When I reverently unzip the bag, she gazes at me, blinking and sparkling with all her might, as if she fears she will never have a day out and will spend the rest of her days closeted. Silly gown, how impatient you have become!
For once I am at a loss for words. In three weeks we will be leaving for Vancouver, and in just over a month I will be marrying Mr. Shortcake. It is a heady combination of feelings—excitement, stress, bittersweet sadness, overwhelming joy, a sense of relief—an emotional potion made ever so more intoxicating by the sight of her…




Deep breaths. We can do it, gown. Only 39 days left to go.
So excited for you, Shortcake. She’s a beauty.