Sharon’s Wedding Invitations Elves

Being Sharon’s bridesmaid has few responsibilities, outside showing up the day of the wedding wearing lavender and preventing people from doing the chicken dance at the reception.

She’s so far from a bridezilla that I’ve started feeling guilty there’s been no fires to bank or misunderstandings to sort out.

So when Sharon mentioned Dan’s mom, her future mother-in-law, was going to hand make the invitations, I eagerly invited Skye and me to join in and help.

Whether or not Dan’s mom wanted aid, we were going to provide it.

That’s just what bridesmaids are for.

So last weekend we hitched our dreams to Skye’s car, and drove down to southern Virginia.

If wedding invitations needed to be put together, we were the gals for the job.

“How in the world did she cut all the pieces of paper just right for the flowers to be in the middle” was what I wondered when I saw this section of the invitation.

The secret?

She didn’t cut out the flowers, she stamped them on herself.

I’d had no idea the vibrant stamping community that exists in the world, but apparently it’s out there, growing stronger by the day.

Don’t fear though, if political overthrow is in their aims, surely their only pledge would be a prettier, if stamp covered, country.

These are suppose to mimic daisies, Sharon’s wedding flower.

Or perhaps hydrangeas.

Or lilies.  No, definitely not lilies.

I’m not a good enough bridesmaid to be certain of Sharon’s wedding flower.

Nor intelligent enough regarding flowers to deduce which one resembles the stamp.

I’m not quite sure why Sharon picked me as a bridesmaid, but I’m confident my bridesmaid-related skills will appear any day now.

Though Dan’s mom had already stamped all the invites when we arrived, she demonstrated another one so we’d understand how it worked.

Apparently there’s a double stamping feature, with the overlaying stamp providing the detail.

Then the yellow center is colored in by a magical pen that takes its color from the stamp pad.

Finally, a stem is added.

Not that there’s anything wrong with floating flower heads, if that’s what you prefer.

I make no flower stem judgments.

Skye and I were tasked with taking the three parts of the invite and gluing one on top of the other.

First the purple embossed sheet, then the stamped sheet, and finally the vellum sheet with the wording.

We glued and we glued and we glued.

Enjoying both the repetitive task and the ability to join in and help with wedding preparations.

Our distance from Sharon in Ohio and our innate laziness (one of the strongest bonds of our friendship) has left us not taking as active a role as we wish.

“If you want to be more involved, why not just do it?”

Well, that silly question clearly comes from someone who doesn’t understand how deep my well of laziness runs.

Lengths of yellow ribbon, each cut 14 inches long, are prepared.

And two holes are punched through the attached invitations, awaiting the ribbon.

The invitations and the ribbons finally meet.

Then comes the difficult part.

Tying a yellow ribbon into a pretty bow.

Did you know that ribbon has a mind of its own?

Ribbons don’t just want to be made into a beautiful, flat bow.

Travel across Europe, sip cappuccino at a small cafe, join an emerging alternative rock band – whatever a ribbon’s dreams encompass, it’s not easily subdued into its decided life role.

Skye especially fought with the ribbon.

But we pressed on, dominating the ribbon time and time again.

Until the ribbon lay defeated in our wake.

Now that we’ve finished hundreds and hundreds of invitations, we’re done right?

Sadly no, there are still invitations to hole punch and ribbon.

 

I start feeling as though there will always be invitations to hole punch and ribbon.

I look back, longing for the gluing together invitation stage.

Skye also feels the invitation toll.

Also, Sharon’s sending out fewer than 100 invitations, so we’re just big whiners.

But soon the ribbon-ing flies by, and the piles of finished invitations grow higher and higher.

The final holes are punched.

The final bows tied.

The final invitations laid atop their brethren.

 

 

Finally, the invites are finished, and I can consider myself a semi-acceptable bridesmaid once more.

 

 

 

Now if only I were working on my dress,

Megan

 

Sharon’s Wedding Invitations Elves

Tagged as: arts 'n crafts, Laziness is my natural state