Monday, October 5, 2009


First there was Courtstock. Then there was Jackstock. Followed by Backstock. In case you haven't been reading this blog long enough, a "stock" is a three-day party where friends Brett, Emily, Courtney, Nell, Adam, Dan and me gather together for a weekend of fun, parties and shenanigans.

This weekend, we all came together once again--this time in the Berkshires--for Reidstock, otherwise known as Adam and Nell's wedding. As usual, custom t-shirts were made to commemorate the event.

The weekend kicked off Friday evening with a welcome party at Crissey Farm we enjoyed delicious "brown" food, including brisket, barbecued chicken and chocolate cake. Yum. Speeches were made and photo slide shows were viewed. Adam, a filmmaker, created the most beautiful and romantic two-minute movie about Nell which brought me--and half the room--to tears.

Here's Courtney with Brette and Ben who sat at our table. Brette was promptly named Girl Brette to avoid confusion with boy Brett. They were lovely.

On a rainy Saturday, we gathered at the Gedney Farm for the wedding ceremony, where more tears were shed, followed by dinner and dancing and celebration in the barn. We had a wonderful time. After seven hours of party, I ended up indulging in too much wine and had to cut out at midnight (I recall having this feeling: I. Have. To. Go. To. Sleep. RIGHT. NOW.), but the rest of the 'stockers stayed up into the wee hours of the night eating grilled cheese sandwiches and jamming to live music.

Don't we look hot?

Me, before the crash.

I was delighted to see that Adam was quite a good dancer.

Brett was also a very enthusiastic addition on the dance floor.

Very enthusiastic, indeed.

The bride and groom rock out.

Sunday, we all came together for brunch at the Route 7 Grill. In the buggy backyard of the restaurant, we all decided to snap pictures for a photo comic that we are developing, art directed by our very own boy Brett. I got to play the bad wizard and I had to pose in very scary, evil ways. It was so much fun. I can't wait to see how it turns out. (You kind of had to be there in order to understand how awesome this was.)

And somewhere during the weekend, I got the nickname Y-Bomb. I think it happened when I was asleep.

As usual, after a wonderful weekend, it was difficult to say good-bye. Until we meet again, 'stockers: May 2010 at Squeenstock, a.k.a. our wedding.


Brett said...

What am I doing wrong? I completely don't understand how my dancing is markedly different from anyone else that really likes to shake tail! Enthusiastic, yes - but is that the reason people are laughing? Is there something else.

ToDo: take a week of dance lessons this year (to make everybody in the world sorry they ever laughed at me.)

Yvonne said...

I did not meant to imply that that you are a bad dancer in need of lessons, but you DO bring a happy energy to the dance floor--more so than most men do--and that's a GOOD thing! If there is any laughing involved, we're laughing with you ;)