Two weeks before our wedding, there was still some question as to whether or not we were going to have a honeymoon at all.  The problem wasn’t paying for one (a modest one anyway), or getting the time off of work, or even getting my travel permission from my Probation Officer.  Instead, the problem was Heather’s injured ankle.  Swollen, bruised, terribly painful, and requiring crutches, it didn’t seem like travelling to a small Texas town like Jefferson to enjoy old Victorian houses, a walking ghost tour, and local shops was a particularly realistic plan.

I was certainly disappointed, but to be honest I was more unhappy for Heather.  The first time she’d been married there was no honeymoon whatsoever.  As a matter of fact, Heather had very little say in anything regarding that marriage, including the ceremony.  It took all of her efforts to keep her fiancée Joe from wearing “a nice pair of jeans” as his wedding outfit.  Which is why I convinced her to go ahead with the idea of a real wedding in the first place; I wanted this wedding to fit her ideas and her personality exactly.  It didn’t matter what conventional wisdom demanded – I wanted her to do things HER way.  Which is exactly what we did: from the Halloween date, to all the spooky decorations, to the plastic spiders Heather’s daughter Bailey sprinkled along with the rose petals, to our standing in the opposite positions during the ceremony (I was on the left), the wedding was Heatheresque in every detail.

My desire was that the honeymoon could fit that bill as well, which is the main reason we chose Jefferson, Texas as our destination.  Long regarded as a hotspot for ghosts and unexplained sights, this little bed and breakfast town includes some nice antique shops, a number of old Victorian homes, and a quaint and generally quiet downtown…plus it carries with it the slow and friendly atmosphere which is specific to Texas country living.  Aside from all of that, Heather’s mother had stayed in Jefferson years ago, and ever since then Heather has dreamed of being able to enjoy some time there herself.  This honeymoon was supposed to be the realization of those dreams.

For me, I was just happy that Heather hadn’t broken anything, or been put into a huge cast.  That would have been too reminiscent of my first marriage and accompanying honeymoon.  When Mara and I were wed, she had been in the hospital with a nasty attack of Crohn’s Disease up to two days before the wedding.  The only way she was able to make it to the ceremony was for the doctors to pump her full of IV cortisone steroids (a common treatment for Crohn’s).  Then the honeymoon itself became a big disaster, with Mara being terribly ill combined with the nightmare of poor service and problems when we arrived at the lodge in the Pocono Mountains where we had planned to stay.  I detailed the story for my Diplomacy zine subscribers at the time, but I think one brief scene illustrates the type of experience we had: our private cabin had its own indoor pool, in a separate room.  It also had a huge wasp nest in the corner of that room.  When I called the front desk to complain, they made sure to act on the problem: within thirty minutes, one of their employees knocked on our door and gave us our own personal can of wasp spray, then turned and walked away.  You shouldn’t be surprised to learn that we checked out an hour later, and spent the rest of the honeymoon in a local hotel (with Mara’s illness being a continued problem throughout).

Enough about the past, let’s return to the present.  As the wedding approached it seemed like Heather’s ankle was doing a bit better.  Walking was going to be limited, but we both felt pretty confident that we’d be able to spend at least a few hours enjoying the downtown area.  We had made reservations for a room at the Claiborne House, one of the Jefferson-area bed and breakfasts we’d found on the internet.  Our room had actually been reserved almost six months in advance, so it seemed a shame to waste it.  Fortunately, as luck would have it, we’d selected the only room they had on the first floor of the house – mainly because of the working fireplace (in case the weather was cool enough) and the two-person whirlpool tub.  The drive from Dallas would only be in the area of three hours, so Heather gave us the green light, and the honeymoon plans stayed in effect. 

Because our wedding didn’t end until 10pm, and because we then had to pack up all of our Halloween wedding decorations and have them out of the house so they could use it for an upcoming function, we chose to make our honeymoon schedule begin the following morning.  The idea was that we’d sleep in a bit, pack, take the cats to the vet to be boarded for two nights, and then drive on to Jefferson from there.  If we left home by noon, even with Dallas traffic and possible construction (which always seems to be going on somewhere on the interstate) we’d arrive at The Claiborne House no later than 4pm.  Of course, considering Heather was either 23 or 27 minutes late for our first date (the exact time still being disputed between us), I never expected to actually leave by noon.  Not a big deal though – the schedule was pretty open.

A few days before the wedding, however, we did alter those plans slightly, as we decided not to bring Tigger to the vet at all, but instead to leave her at home alone for the two days we’d be away.  She gets to frantic and upset in the car, and when she’s out of her element, we simply felt the risk of her being here by herself was less than that of boarding her for two nights.  Toby, on the other hand, was another matter altogether.  There was simply to way we could leave him home alone.  He gets in way too much mischief, and being a total piglet I don’t see a way we could have left out enough food and water for both cats.  Plus, we wanted to get Toby implanted with a microchip in case he ever takes an unplanned vacation when we’re not watching.  At least that way there’s a chance we’d get him back!

Watch for Part Two in the next few days.  In the meantime, here are photos of the two little darlings: