To start off the Armadillo Mini-Moon recaps, let’s pick up from the moment we left the reception.
After a blissfully incident free evening of dancing and being with our closest friends and loved ones, Mr. A and I drove away from our venue in a swanky borrowed car (can’t wait to show you guys later!) and made our way to the local Hampton Inn where we had made wedding night accommodations per the awesome gift certificate we’d won at our local charity ball a month earlier. Exhausted, excited, and relieved that the extremely long (yet amazing!) day was coming to a close, we climbed out of the car in our fancy tux and wedding gown, made our way into the lobby, and were greeted by the receptionist with a hearty “congratulations!” We politely told her we had a king suite reserved for the evening, gave her Mr. A’s last name, and to our surprise…the receptionist couldn’t find our reservation.
Mr. A pulled up the confirmation email he’d received on his phone we he made the reservation, showed it to the receptionist, and after a few clicks on her computer, she told us that our reservation had been cancelled and they were out of rooms for the night except for ones that had two double beds in them. You guys, I have to be honest; after a physically and emotionally draining day like our wedding day had been, it took everything in me to not break down right there in front of her. With her basically saying there wasn’t anything else they could do since the manager wasn’t answering her phone*, we left, climbed back into the car, and drove to our apartment. (Not exactly the way I envisioned my wedding night going, but it’ll make for a good story later, I guess.) I was too exhausted to fight or demand some kind of compensation, but I was particularly peeved since many of our out of town guests were staying at that exact hotel and Hampton Inn was greatly benefiting financially from our wedding weekend.
By the next morning, though, I was completely over what little damage the hotel had managed to do to muff an otherwise problem-free evening. Mr. A and I put on some comfy clothes and headed over to our parents’ house, where we ate leftover wedding cake for breakfast, watched a few snippets of the reception my dad had managed to capture on video, visited with some out of town family, and opened our wedding presents! I packed up a bag, bid adieu to my family, and we hit the road for Hill Country luxury.
On the way there, I got a phone call from my mom, saying she couldn’t find her engagement ring. Our photographer had borrowed it for a few photo ops and afterwards I had put it in a ziploc bag with some other jewelry and took it back to the apartment on our wedding night, so I thought I had left it on my nightstand, which is where I told my mom I had put it. When she called saying it wasn’t there like I had anticipated, I started to panic. I dug through all my bags, racked my brain for where it could possibly be, and a two-hour event ensued. My mom continued to call my phone in tears, asking me if there was any other place she should look for the ring, but I was at a total loss. I started crying (I felt truly awful, y’all,) my dad called me from his cell and talked me down so I could speak rationally, but I seriously couldn’t remember what I’d done with it and was beginning to fear the worst. The entire 4 and a half hour drive to Fredericksburg was spent in panic and helplessness, until the minute we arrived at our bed and breakfast, my mom called me to let me know she’d found it! Turns out I had stuck it in the same jewelry box I had put my wedding earrings in, which had been sitting in my parents’ living room the entire time. Crisis #2 averted!
By that time, I was more than ready to start to enjoy our honeymoon, and after I wiped the tears from my face and took a deep breath, Mr. A and I checked into our room at the Hoffman Haus. You guys, this place was heaven. Don’t believe me? Check it out for yourself:
The lobby of the Hoffman Haus estate
Inside the lobby. Perfectly rustic and elegant!
The lobby also included a pretty extensive book and DVD library, from which we could take books and movies as we pleased back to our room. The dining area also had these large medicine jars filled daily with freshly baked cookies. We could take as many as we liked during our stay (and they were seriously amazing.)
Mr. A picking out some good ones!
The owner, Leslie, checked us into our room. We stayed in the Morning Star, which was a converted log cabin from the 1800s. From the outside it looked pretty nondescript, but inside it was perfect:
Our little slice of paradise for the week
After changing into some nicer clothes, Mr. A and I studied our map of downtown Fredericksburg to decide where to eat for dinner. I couldn’t help but catch a photo of that wedding band on his finger. Sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Hands down.
Our decision led us to a steakhouse on main street called Crossroads. Maybe it’s because I was starving, or maybe it was honeymoon magic, but I swear that steak was one of the best damn steaks I’ve ever eaten.
We ended up taking a bottle of Messina Hoff Riesling and a slice of creme brulee cheesecake back to our room from the restaurant, and made the night ours. It was perfection.
Up next, we wake up to gourmet breakfast at our door!
*Hampton Inn called Mr. A later in the week to apologize for the mix-up and offered us the “romance package” as a token of their apology, which basically includes a night’s stay in a king suite, a bottle of champagne, and a meal at our town’s local fancy restaurant. We appreciated their olive branch to make things right, even if it couldn’t exactly erase the memory of standing embarrassingly in my wedding gown in the hotel lobby without a room to check in to. C’est la vie!