i'm going to get right to it since i have the nervous sweats right now. it's a true PSA (public service announcement) for not drinking…or at least not drinking too much on your wedding night.

i am literally sweating as i type, thinking of people reading about what really happened on our wedding night.


if you have yet to read p. 1, you're going to want to run over to the daily tay to snag that. she's graciously allowed me to share the first half of my story on her blog.

|pause|

great. have you read p. 1? then you're all set for p. 2…

where did we leave off?

oh yes, the elderly gal shot up in bed and exclaimed…"what are you doing in my bedroom?!"

(please remember, i'm in the elderly gal's bathroom getting sick.)

my farmer, from what he has told me, stumbled backwards with our bags in hand and said, "we rented this place for our wedding night."

at this point, my sister could kind of hear what was going on and quickly cleaned (god love her) and ushered me outside.

my farmer, on the other hand, was receiving a tongue-lashing from the OWNER of all the bungalows.

we had broken into her personal home, obviously. she lived in 121 and we were supposed to be resting our sleepy heads in an unmarked 121 1/2.

friends…i didn't marry my farmer for his land. he's a silver-tongued devil if there ever was one.

he charmed that old gal right out of prosecution and into an invitation for breakfast the next morning.

he simply explained that the door was open and it was our wedding night and blah blah blah. i can't imagine the conversation went exactly like that, but i know how his talents of persuasion work.

basically, he's just about the most charming farmer ever.

she showed us to our bungalow and we got all settled in…

except for the screen was still off her window. a dead giveaway that we had broken in.

at about 4 am (the most ungodly of hours), my farmer snuck to her home again and replaced the screen.

and that, my friends, is exactly what happened on our wedding night.

it's also exactly how i knew i'd married the farmer of my dreams.

a few more pictures? sure…

what a hangover looks like the day after you wedding…
what having to face your friends and tell them the story the next day looks like…
that's my sister on the left. she was already privy to my shame. 

what it looks like before you're charged with breaking and entering…
thanks for stopping in for this two-part series. 

should you be feeling generous don't hesitate follow along!