t minus three weeks

Some element of calm has descended over the past 48 hours. Slowly, very slowly, things are falling into place. About two weeks ago, the amount of admin that needed doing, coupled with the logistics of a move to Glasgow in three months’ time (with one of those months almost entirely spent away on honeymoon) made me feel actually sick on a very regular basis.

But as of now, things are being ticked off. Every night we sit down and look at the list and JFDI, as much as we can, before we collapse into bed. I can envisage a time when we’ve actually turned the entire to-do list green (the green highlighter pen function = a very visible DONE). I am still sans dress, but hope that will be here too next week. Then once I have a necklace, my attire is DONE. Most people are paid (apart from the band, the flower lady and, uh, the venue) and the bank account is close to blissful peace once again.

My plan of having August to relax has not worked thus far, but we might get a week to relax before the wedding and that would be OK. As long as work doesn’t get in the way – and I’m determined not to spend the week before the wedding on 14 hour days. It’s not healthy.

There are things I have to blog about that are less boring than this (because really, this is a pretty boring time – I’m ticking things off a list for christssake. No more time for beautiful pictures as our decisions are MADE.)

For example: I have to tell you about the wedding quilt my mother-in-law spent a year and a half making for us, covered with all of our favourite things. I have to tell you about bridesmaid gifts and the politics of it. I have to tell you about the gifts for the mums which I bloody love, and the logistics of trying to work out how to manicure and make up eight people in four hours and how we got around it.

I have to tell you about writing a ceremony and vows and about how much booze you need for one of these things (a fuck-lot, really. LOADS.) I have to tell you about the wooden chest my dad has made by hand, along with all the table number holders which are incredible, really. About the four carrier bags of petals my mother in law, off her own back, decided she would dry to make confetti – and her jam making prowess. About the 80m of bunting and 50 jars of jam/chutney perfectly fashioned by my mum, and about how I became the type of bride who goes from ‘we won’t have a cake’ to spending £500 on a cake and feeling excited about it.

But for now, you’ll have to imagine all of the above, for I have a to-do list to tick.

the to do list

Well, here's a rum thing. No matter how much time you have to organise a wedding, you simply cannot do some things further than a few weeks away. For some things, you simply need to know who is coming, when they are coming, and where they will stay. And of course, at this point, a deadline focuses the mind and you remember all the things you said you would do over the past few months - but forgot to.

And that is how, having been engaged for 15 months and with a wedding in 11 weeks (Holy. Crap.) I find that we have a to-do list that we've had to put onto Google Docs, break down into weekly targets and start ticking the hell off.

Every single day I remember something else we need to do. I then make a note on my phone and transfer it into the magic computing cloud as often as I can. Recent additions include:

• Cushions for small children??? Will they reach the table?
• Buy Port? Somerset Pomona? Does venue have the little glasses?
• Blister plaster for slightly deformed toe (yeah, just the one toe is weird)
• take IRON
• Sparklers?????
• Can J's brother connect amp outdoors using car batteries? Test his theory!
  
• Find out the name of M's baby (J's friend) - boy or girl? Age in months? (* my mum is frantically making gift bags for all the children - she texts me daily on the progress and to request info like this. She needs this project after making 90+ metres of fully hemmed bunting, almost completing a handmade shawl for me and brewing 48 jars of jam/chutney. I should say, I merely asked if she could help with some bunting and some help with chutney. She has really run with it...)
• List of songs for DJ to avoid in disco
• shoes for dress number one - BUY
  

This is just SOME additions. There is a whole list which is untouched, into which these items must slot, which I am not even going into on here. Things like finding out the location of every single person who is staying at a hotel in order that we can inform the minibus company. And working out how we will transport family to the register office in the morning. Information sheets. Order of services (servii?). Table plans. Place cards. Buy confetti (first confirming the precise confetti requirements of the venue which are strict as it's an organic farm - very understandable, you can't toss the usual stuff where the sheep might eat it). The usual.

It's OK. I'm still calm. But there is a sense of having been lulled into a slight sense of security with the long engagement which means that actually having to do shit, and with a non-negotiable and now shockingly short time frame, comes as something of a surprise.