Home » family » I left my heart on Bourbon Street.

I left my heart on Bourbon Street.

maltby + john-nDN8k168795868

A few years ago, we had fun with this post, brainstorming ways to fill in the blank: “I left my heart in ____.”

I was reminded of this after Mom did such a great job gathering, and executing, beautiful and meaningful ideas for John’s rehearsal dinner, which was held at the SweetWater Brewery in Atlanta at the end of January.

All the table names were street signs from places in John’s life, or Maltby’s life, or their life together: the streets they grew up on, South Africa, a ranch in Wyoming, Palo Alto, Athens, NYC, and of course New Orleans where they met. It was a super fun conversation starter, and a small glimpse into their lives which was appropriate for a gathering of family and friends from all over and from all stages of life, who may have only known the bride or the groom before then.

Mom also gathered pictures of the lovely couple as they grew up (we could do a photoessay on the evolution of John’s hair), and she did a phenomenal job with the centerpieces, along with her team of florists and designers (AKA Beth and Aunt Kace). Cotton, magnolia, pine greenery in silver julep cups, stacked on a couple old books for the height they needed.

The actual wedding reception was a gorgeous winter wonderland, and the style Mom and John chose for the rehearsal dinner was much more casual but complemented it nicely. Someone at my table (from Colorado) actually reached out and picked the cotton to see what it was like. Hard work. That’s why the cotton gin was such a big deal, I said.

maltby + john-SXZfD168795512

photo credits: the fantastic Vue Photography

So we know that John left his heart and his SweetWater beer in Athens with a brown-eyed UGA girl . . .

What about you? Where have you left a piece of your heart? And isn’t funny how it takes leaving to realize how much you completely adore someone or something or somewhere? Let’s see . . .

I left my heart in Del Ray (our old neighborhood in Alexandria, VA).

I left my heart at Little Lights.

I left my heart in Paraguay, at Pabla’s storefront home.

I left my heart in Cholula.

I left my heart, or maybe found it, no—my heart was stolen! that’s better—at Nick’s Nightclub, Alexandria’s premiere line dancing institution.

(And, always and forever, I left my heart in Cville, specifically at Take It Away. It’ll probably be right where they stack those little containers of house dressing.)

Your turn! But be careful. My heart is literally hurting right now. Nostalgia, you kill me.


6 thoughts on “I left my heart on Bourbon Street.

  1. I poured my heart into life at Berry College; found such great heart at Kruger National Park in South Africa, and live with my heart in Nashville!!

    • I could make the argument for that summer house/cabin on the lake, with the crisp air and the down comforters! That, or my heart could’ve easily fallen into the eco toilet.

  2. I left my heart in your DC apartment, where you would make me dinner and I saw MT go from infant babe to toddler BAE and we both practiced our “neutral” face.

    I left my heart in Niko’s Villas in Oia, Santorini, where I lounged by the pool eating greek salads (in Greece! Imagine!) and annoying the honeymooners with my re-enactments of Ariel from the Little Mermaid (“part of your… WORRRRLD”).

    I left my heart in Carpinteria, CA, where my family had apple, lemon, and avocado trees in the backyard and I sat on a bumble bee and then shattered the entire glass sliding door while my parents were away.

    ps- you weren’t kidding about the nostalgia! :*)

    • Mij, I love these! Very jealous of Greece. I love the neutral face so much. I should actually become proficient at it and use it on my own kids.

what do you think?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s