My wedding coordinator hurried us out the door on our wedding night, reminding us no one would leave until we did. I think I need to credit her with ensuring we had sex that night. Well that and the fact it was a damn fine hotel room.

I don't remember anything from the moment my new father-in-law convinced me to try a flaming shot of Jack Daniels until my girlfriend was helping me off with my dress while I cried "I'm so sorry!" But it is reported that I had a grand old time.

So yeah no sexy times until twenty minutes after the bellman in our Jamaican hotel had brought us a toilet-paper-wrapper full of 'medicine' for $20.

I don't remember the first wedding, it was 1973! My second DH seemed to feel that wedding nights were meant for setting records or something. I remember that quite well, as apparently he felt the same about the whole honeymoon. Third (and final!) wedding also included the sexy times wedding night. We stayed home that night and didn't depart for honeymoon until the next day.

It certainly seems reasonable after all the stress of the wedding itself that exhaustion would rule. I had a fabulous time at my weddings with the whole being the center of attention and having all my loved ones around. Great times! I should start to plan a 25th anniversary renewing vows thing just for the party.

And the sexy times, Laura

You guys. I keep wanting to say "thank you" over and over, even more for the kind words as the donations. I keep thinking you're talking about some other, nicer Ginger.

Anyway, we've been playing Mousehunt here. The rodents turn out to be mice, which is a relief after my years of the rats. Mr Peabody, the Fearless Rodent Hunter, has been on high alert for about 10 days.

After the 4 a.m. session in which he first sensed their presence in the kitchen cabinets, I was next awakened by his barking and pulling things out of the pantry. I pulled out more things and three wee sleekit beasties ran right past Mr. Peabody into the den, which at the moment could probably hide 300. After I went back to bed, Mr Peabody made sure several boxes of things like plastic bags did not contain mice. They also won't contain anything else.

I woke up another night trying to figure out what a strange sliding noise was. It was Mr Peabody pulling everything out of the bottom of the coat closet. Night before last, he woke me barking and pulling things out of the linen closet. One beast ran out, but he missed it. Last night, he was so intent on getting into the stove that I threw the breaker. Right now, he is sitting and guarding the refrigerator.

I'm working on sealing where they got in, and I've tried to get all the food out of reach. (Pulling stuff out of the pantry revealed they had eaten a rather large amount of oatmeal.) The mouse in the linen closet was after oatmeal bath stuff, which I hadn't mentally processed as "food."

I said to my neighbor that I was going to have to pull out everything and put it back, and she said that was probably a good thing to do and she ought to do it herself. I offered her a mouse.

I am laughing so hard Ginger. Mr. P must be having the time of his life.

I love the Mr. Peabody stories.

(Pulling stuff out of the pantry revealed they had eaten a rather large amount of oatmeal.) The mouse in the linen closet was after oatmeal bath stuff, which I hadn't mentally processed as "food."

Who knew mice cared so much about dietary fiber?

(Also, my contribution wasn't meant to be anonymous on the list of supporters. But I figured the Batman and papier-mache zeppelin references would make it clear who I was.)

Yeah, I checked to see if I could edit the "supporters" to put your name there instead of anonymous, but alas I cannot. The only thing I can edit there is to add folks who've promised payments through check or some other offline means.