Didjeri Don't

We found this picture the other day while unpacking, further settling into our drafty farmhouse on Hasting's Mesa. I love this shot, and the memories from this day.

This was the quietest moment in a beautiful, wild, sore-stomached hilarious weekend spent celebrating you and Mark in high style in Sisters. You two graciously let me steal you for a moment and we snuck away from the venue and the families and friends to let me make some images with my sister's antique Rollei camera.

This was the day that you invented the greatest word in the English language. Your amazing Dead and Beatles cover band had just wrapped up an impressive "Eyes of the World" jam complete with a beautiful, long breakdown with percussion and that age old favorite instrument from ancient Australia, the hollowed out branch known as the Didjeridoo. We at table Seven (the bad kids table) were impressed with the act. You, apparently, were not. And there stands Jessica, in gorgeous white dress, wagging her finger from a champagne glass, announcing to the band in a stage whisper:

"From here on out, boys – didjeri don't."
There was a hush, but that was that. You told them.

That's so you, to do it your way, to set the terms. To see your line, point it and stick it. To throw yourself in the pool in your wedding dress, before your cousin or the rascals from table Seven get to it. To take the initiative to go full steam ahead to defeat this is not unlike you at all. Be brave, be strong, be Jessica.

You have our love and support, and please call on us for anything. And say Didjeri Don't to this cancer.

Love,

NCSF