August 1st- August 3rd

“Mercury Forecast Edmonton 20 degrees, Calgary 21 degrees, Mesa 44 degrees”

A sharp contrast to the last 3 weeks today being the 3rd and it is cold outside.

I have to finish sone of the events in the past few days. Tonight Jessica had glow in the dark sticks and the boys along with us had a ping pong, foosball tournament in the night.

In the morning Jessica and the kids readied for their home trip. Jessica was taking Daisy just to make it easier for us with the wedding and getting the motorhome ready to be towed.

We got all dolled up and even if I have to say so myself we looked good. Real good !

The wedding — the whole reason for our trip — turned out to be a genuinely wonderful event. When I look at the church, the ceremony, the venue, the food, the music, the dress, and the overall feel, it easily lands at a solid 9 out of 10. A few personal critiques, sure, but nothing that took away from how well the day was done.

We arrived at the church and initially parked along the street with everyone else until someone pointed out a large lot behind the building. A smart move, considering parking in front of people’s homes tends to make you feel like you’re trespassing before the ceremony even starts. The church itself was beautiful — high A‑frame, cedar interior, and a distinctly Catholic vibe. The procession was grand, with both parents escorting the bride and groom. Everyone looked sharp, and the pride on the parents’ faces was impossible to miss. Taylor looked fantastic in one of the nicest wedding dresses I’ve seen in quite some time.

The ceremony was warm, humorous, and interesting — but let’s just say it wasn’t exactly the Catholic marathon I had mentally prepared for. No wine, no water being flung around, no candle choreography, no cracker‑based communion, and not a single knee‑pad workout. Instead, it felt a bit like we were listening in on a marriage counseling session. Pleasant, meaningful, and wrapped up in a tidy 40 minutes.

Then came the venue: the Prestige Hotel in Salmon Arm. Google Maps apparently decided to take the day off, because half the guests were sent on scenic detours. But once you actually arrived, the place was first‑class. Overlooking the lake, filled with gorgeous flowers, beautifully decorated — just a stunning setting. Even the wedding space itself was done perfectly, elegant without being over the top.

Timing left us a little hungry, so we ducked into the bar for a quick bite and a drink during what is called the “Catholic Gap.” A strategic snack never hurt anyone.

Inside the reception room, servers circulated with appetizers and champagne, all delicious. The speeches were excellent — every parent and friend delivered heartfelt, well‑crafted remarks. It always amuses me that weddings temporarily suspend reality and transform everyone being toasted into saints, heroes, and the kindest humans ever to walk the earth. Still, there were some genuinely funny moments, and Lucas’s Dad playing one of Lucas’s own songs was a standout — practically star‑level.

Dinner was one of the best wedding meals I can remember. Chicken or beef. I went with the brisket roast: real mashed potatoes, vegetables wrapped in bacon, rich gravy, and tender beef. Jackie’s chicken was just as good. A full 10 out of 10 and that is hard to do with a bigger crowd.

The DJ was excellent, keeping the music loud enough for energy but not so loud that you had to shout to talk. His flashing lights, however, were aimed at a height that ensured we were blinded every time we tried to watch the dance floor. A small detail, but my retinas noticed.

The first dances were lovely, and Jeff — who may have enjoyed a few drinks — was unstoppable. He danced all night with the enthusiasm of someone who had been waiting his whole life for this exact playlist. Honestly, watching him was half the entertainment.

I found it a bit odd that there was no head table, but maybe that’s the modern way. Traditional elements like cake cutting, garter tosses, and bouquet throws seem to have quietly retired from weddings altogether.

As with many events these days, the crowd thinned around 11 p.m., whereas people used to stay much later. Times change, but a great wedding is still a great wedding.

Overall, it was one of the best weddings I’ve attended — not extravagant, just done right and done simply. We thoroughly enjoyed both the wedding and the reception. What I like it was a WEDDING, all of their friends and family know they are marred, we all got to celebrate and congratulate with them as they set themselves up a beautiful foundationally start point to a life long union.

I know if i was a women I would not want to change my last name but I still personally believe it is the proper thing to do. It removes the difficulty with governments, will not confuse the general public when they asked your name, definitely will help with kids last names and it defines a family unit. If you are a famous person, have a very important position within a company or even own a company perhaps not but anyone else I say just do it.

We rolled back into the motorhome just after midnight, grateful for the cooler mountain air and the blessed silence that came from finally closing the windows. Sleep should have been easy, but my mind insisted on replaying every possible scenario of getting towed off a mountain highway at dawn. Nothing like anxiety to keep you warm at night.

By 7 a.m., I sent a text, and the reply came fast — and positive. Relief washed over me so hard I almost forgot how little sleep I’d had. Jackie and I spent the entire morning preparing both ourselves for the long trip home and the motorhome for its less‑glamorous journey on the back of a tow truck.

Calling it a gong show might be generous.

The truck rolled in with a 40‑foot trailer, and that’s when the real entertainment began. Between the cramped campsite, low overhead wires, and drivers on the Trans‑Canada behaving like they were late for the Olympics, we had nowhere workable to load. He tried one spot, then another, but every angle was wrong — and I was inching the motorhome around with barely functioning brakes and one foot permanently planted on the emergency brake like I was trying to land a plane.

The campsite owner suggested a pullout about 300 yards down the highway. Not ideal, considering the traffic, but doable. I crept onto the shoulder while Jackie followed in the Jeep, hazards flashing like a mobile warning beacon. Miraculously, it was the perfect spot.

Then came the balancing act: driving the motorhome up onto the trailer with about two inches of clearance on each side. Two inches. One wrong move and I’d be sideways in a ditch, starring in my own cautionary tale. With the operator giving hand signals like he was guiding a helicopter landing, we got it up. The hitch scraped badly thanks to the angle, but at that point, cosmetic damage felt like a luxury problem.

Once it was secured, I faced my final challenge: getting out. I opened the door and realized I was at least five feet off the ground with nothing to grab, nothing to step on, and no graceful options. So I did what any rational adult would do — closed my eyes and jumped.

The ditch was angled just right to flip me into a full somersault. If there had been judges, I’m confident I’d have earned a perfect 10. Somehow, I landed without a scratch, which feels statistically improbable but I’m not asking questions.

All loaded and we headed to the repair shop that was recommended by a friend or one of my cousins.

We readied the motorhome. parked it and then headed home. Not a secure yard so fingers crossed.

Looking back, it was chaotic, stressful, and unintentionally comedic — the kind of day that becomes a story I will tell later with a laugh, once the adrenaline and stress wears off.

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