Chasing Moles!

The last lazy days of summer have been filled with extreme heat along with the much anticipated wedding of Katherine’s son, Kade.  He is 27, holds two degrees and has travelled around the country and abroad, living on an allowance that has allowed him to sow his youthful oats.  In the process, he met an equally intelligent yuppy girl, who also holds some useless degree in Russian literature, or something like that.  They dropped in to see Mom & Dad six months ago to drop the bomb of an October wedding.  They, of course, have allowed Katherine to be the wedding planner.  The future Mrs. Weston is an orphan, and is clueless about the endless details of planning a proper wedding on The Hill.  Thus, future mother-in law, Katherine, as any true southern woman can, came to the rescue.  The last six months have been filled with endless phone calls, meetings with caterers, florists, printers, and on and on.

With the wedding only days away, I called Katherine today to inquire about details concerning one of her listings.  She answered the phone breathless and I could hear strange buzzing noises in the background.  After a few minutes, I asked what in the world was going on.  She answered my question with another question “Do you know anything about catching moles?”  “Moles?”  I answered, trying to grasp what she was talking about.  “Yes, dear, those little creatures that live underground and make havoc of your yard!”  The reception for the upcoming wedding was being held at her estate and it seems she was on the hunt for a pesky mole ruining the tranquility of her hydrangea filled yard!  I imagined this sweet, sturdy displaced Midwest woman in hunting garb, brandishing a twelve gauge shotgun and chasing down a small animal hiding just below the ground surface.  Scenes from Caddy Shack suddenly came to mind and I laughed.  “So you are on a hunting expedition, Katherine?”  She laughed, “Yes and I plan to end the destructive life of that little varmit before he destroys the yard!”  Her matter of fact attitude was evidence of both her Midwest upbringing and her years of living among southern women.   The innocent, yet nasty little mole eventually met his maker that day and all was well in the wedding planning world!

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