venue visit

(photo by me)

This weekend was spent visiting the venue with both mine and J's parents.

Beautiful countryside and weather, copious amounts of tea and lots of blackberry and sloe picking meant that what could have been a stressful couple of days was actually utterly lovely. My mum found a four-leafed clover at the farm, which she wrapped in tissue and made me press in a 1950s film encyclopaedia that J's dad had found for us at a charity shop that morning ("I thought you could put this in your loo. It would be good toilet reading.")

(photo by me)

There were scones, there was booze and it was peaceful. They walked up the hill with us to where we're going to get married and declared it lovely.

They talked about their own weddings: my parents was in a church and then a church hall for the reception, six weeks after my dad was made redundant. They cancelled everything when he lost his job, but everyone rallied round. A friend took the photos and another friend became their chauffeur, even buying a velvet jacket, a cap and flowers for the parcel shelf of his brand new cream Ford Cortina. Food was brought to the hall made by aunties and apparently everything went off great, aside from my Grandad pouring a pint of ale over my mum's dress, but she didn't mind. They've been married 28 years.

J's parents were married after knowing each other for just a month, and having only had two dates. They both worked for the foreign service in Africa and were about to enter a war zone. The only reason they were allowed to get married so quickly was because they both had security clearance (any man in the service who wanted to get married had to have his wife-t0-be cleared, a process that could take months). I believe they have been married 30-something years.

There were just two hairy moments. The first was crossing a dual carriageway with my mother-in-law to be driving us ladies to the florist. The sun was glaring, she had no sunglasses and we were trying to turn right. "Tell me when to turn, I can't see a thing!" is not something you want to hear on any road, let alone a fast one.

The other moment was when the same mother-in-law to be confessed that she had started buying baby clothes. N0 - there is no secret - I'm not pregnant. She just really really really would like it if I was. Cripes.

holiday

So, I've been on holiday. Hence all the quiet around here in the past few days.

After the making of the spreadsheet and the mild sweats and tremors that it induced (the figures weren't high for 'wedding land' but they were bloody high by my book) we decided to have another crack at a guest list and got it down by 20 people thanks to the imposition of a few sensible rules (I have a huge family. The rules are very necessary if it isn't to be 75 per cent my relatives).

I also had a night of utter panic when I thought the venue cost had increased by a grand. Seriously, utter panic: thinking of cancelling the lot and losing the deposit sort of utter panic. Sod it, let's just go to the pub and the register office utter panic. Needless to say, it was completely unfounded utter panic.

I also mentioned dresses again. I've let my liking of non-white dresses be known before. But it didn't really wash with bf. "Just for one day, can't you look like a bride?" Fairenuff.

moneymoneymoney

Well, my bank account is A WHOLE GRAND lighter as I have only gone and paid the bloomin' deposit for the venue. Which I guess means this is actually happening, as god knows, I would like to see that money again.

I can only assume this is the first of many painful days for our poor bank account. Also possibly the only financial transaction related to this wedding that will not cause some small degree of disagreement (see: two days ago, when I told bf I'd found a cheap florist. Turns out he thought a bouquet would cost about £10. I suggested he buy me flowers more often.)