My cousin got married over the weekend and I thought I’d post a few shots.
This is my favorite, I think. From left to right:
my sister, my mom, my brother, me, Zane and Phil.
my sister, my mom, my brother, me, Zane and Phil.
My brother on the left, my husband on the right.
Man that’s sexy. Or not. LOL
The Dranchak clan. Damn. There’s a lot of us.
At least that’s what the photographer said.
That’s me with the frumpy shirt sticking out by my belly,
my brother, my sister, and our grandma.
Wow. Can’t deny Zane’s a clone of his father, eh?
A wedding is not a wedding without shots and polkas.
I said to my cousin Frank, “Do you know how to do this?”
He said, “I have no F*&^#ing clue”
And I taught him so the tradition can be passed on.
My Godmother, my brother, the bride, and I.
We’re all my aunt’s Godchildren.
That’s my cousin Frank again–and Phil. If you look in the background, you can see me talking with Steph from Adventures In Babywearing. Hi Steph!
And finally–Zane at the end of the night. Well, the end of his night. We sent him home with grandma. Then Phil , my brother and sister in law, and one of my cousins walked to the bar across the parking lot. Then we called a friend to drag our butts home. And I’m sorry. You can’t see any more pictures. That would be tacky. And I’d get a bunch of hits of my blog from weirdos who Google words I won’t write here.
The Dranchak clan. Damn. There’s a lot of us.
At least that’s what the photographer said.
That’s me with the frumpy shirt sticking out by my belly,
my brother, my sister, and our grandma.
Wow. Can’t deny Zane’s a clone of his father, eh?
A wedding is not a wedding without shots and polkas.
I said to my cousin Frank, “Do you know how to do this?”
He said, “I have no F*&^#ing clue”
And I taught him so the tradition can be passed on.
My Godmother, my brother, the bride, and I.
We’re all my aunt’s Godchildren.
That’s my cousin Frank again–and Phil. If you look in the background, you can see me talking with Steph from Adventures In Babywearing. Hi Steph!
And finally–Zane at the end of the night. Well, the end of his night. We sent him home with grandma. Then Phil , my brother and sister in law, and one of my cousins walked to the bar across the parking lot. Then we called a friend to drag our butts home. And I’m sorry. You can’t see any more pictures. That would be tacky. And I’d get a bunch of hits of my blog from weirdos who Google words I won’t write here.