Last Trip Home

I hate today. I've got to put everything away and wigwam the furniture - this includes the bed I'm still in, and not wanting to get out of.

All this has to be done around a frantically yowling cat - who is also still in bed yet - I'd put her outside in her carrier but it's too cold and damp for her old bones.

Then we've got to splodge through wet muddy grass to the car - which is parked miles away near the gas tank, with bags and bags and bags of important stuff that I can't live without.

Fingers crossed the car is ok this time. The last few years it's thrown a wobbly for our last trip home. First it wasn't firing on all cylinders and we were really struggling to get going after every junction ... 0-60 in 10 mins.

Then two years ago we'd packed the car, went for a last look at the sea and his window wouldn't go back up.

It was getting dark, pouring with rain, and the AA man - who couldn't fix it - drained the battery and we had to stay another day - I had to unload the car - again splodging through wet muddy grass while the window had a plastic bag taped over it.

Thankfully the on-site boys got us going next morning with jump leads from the tractor and the window was - temporarily - fixed at a local garage.

Mr Grumpy was NOT his usual happy self and I was in meltdown because we'd got a wedding to go to and my dress still didn't fit ...

The Day I Tied The Knot ... Literally

Yes, this is my chunky little thigh, the stockings went all the way up!

Well, we did it ... At last!

After almost a mere thirteen years of living together, I've finally made an honest man of my grumpy old man.

Of course the date 10.11.12 was significant to me because I've got a 'thing' about numbers. If my family hadn't insisted they were coming - whether I liked it or not - I'd have picked 12.12.12 (a Wednesday). This would have made it awkward for them as they'd all need a day off work ... I am soooooo considerate.

It would also have meant I'd probably have lost the services of our wonderful photographer ... I say wonderful, I haven't seen any photos yet and if he hasn't airbrushed at least 2" off my curves, and removed my remaining extra chin, then I'm not paying him! ... Hmmm, I'd better hope he doesn't see this or he may harbour bizarre notions about actually getting paid.

Right now for a recap on my The Nightmares Have Begun post:

1. We were early and there were plenty of parking spaces.
2. We didn't forget the rings although grumpy had to search frantically through his pockets until I told him which one they were in.
3. We remembered to take our choice of words.
4. He took the cheque - boy am I cheap, is that all I cost!?
5. We still went ahead with the music - Annie's Song by John Denver - that we'd chosen, even though talktalk had recently nicked it for an advert - grrrr.
6. The speakers on the CD player were fine and didn't require hitting with a big stick (I omitted that bit last time didn't I?)
7. Yippee it didn't rain - although the Radley umbrella I bought just in case the skies weren't smiling on us, arrived with a bent and broken handle - so the delicious shade of orange I had about my person, didn't dribble all over Ripley Market place.
8. My stay up stockings stayed all the way up and didn't budge. The same can't be said for my garter, it was silky ribbon on silky stocking, it travelled south frequently.
9. My dress didn't split.
10. No beads fell off it.
11. It fitted perfect with plenty of breathing room by the 4th November, talk about cutting it fine! So although I'd bought a little ivory lacy number as a backup (took the pressure off me) I got to wear the dress I'd bought all those years ago especially for the event.
12. No idea what my make-up looked like, I was hampered by suddenly finding I couldn't see to do it without the glasses that would be covering most of it anyway ... I may have looked a bit panto dame for all I know. The hair ... well that deserves its own paragraph.
13. My bouquet was wearing so much hot glue, it wouldn't dare fall apart (I may do a post about the making of the bouquet and buttonholes in the near future).
14. I didn't lose it or my engagement ring.
15. Even though I'd already done my hair I still had to fasten grumpy's tie around my neck and take it over my head ... hair ... and sparkly fascinator jobby ... for him to then put over his bonce, oddly he struggled, he must have a really big head.

The hair ... well I had to have nail extensions seeing as I'd broken four nails in the last few days before the wedding. These were a jolly good idea and a treat from my youngest sister and niece. What was NOT a good idea for someone who does creative things with their own hair, was having a nail charm on the wedding ring finger.

The ever so charming nail charm ... and still going strong

As fast as I was plaiting/weaving (whatever) my hair, this charm was undoing it. Something I'd previously got down to one attempt, taking a maximum eight minutes now took five attempts (from the left side) and half an hour! It was fortunate that Asda woke me up so early.

I suggested to grumpy - and this is a polite way of putting it - that he went back to bed while I was - literally - tearing my hair out, this is because he was hovering behind me and sighing ... and it was getting right on me nerves, I was fffffizzzzing with expletives. I got on so much better after I plonked down the mirror I should never have attempted to use in the first place - you need not to see what you're doing and just feel your way - on the other side of the room.

.....

The registrar who married us was lovely, he put grumpy at ease lest he should muddle the order of his lines (I am ... I will ... I do ... and not necessarily in that order).

Me? ... not a nerve in sight, I'd used 'em all up on the hair!
 

When he asked the bit about anyone knowing any reason why we couldn't legally marry blah blah blah, my (18 months old) great niece who had already eaten half of her flower girl wand/posy doodah, decided this was a good time to ramp up her volume and tell us all what she thought ... Oh dear. He said he wouldn't take that as a response, cleared his throat and tried to drown her out ... wasn't happening! She just went a notch louder.

The beads that didn't drop off or indeed flirt in anyone's eye

We had a really wonderful day - that we'll treasure for always - with our friends and my/our family ... my lot have long since adopted grumpy. My niece did an impromptu little speech where she said that she'd have liked to welcome him to the family but he was already well cemented in.

I'd like to thank everyone who joined us for making it a really happy event. And the same thanks to those who couldn't come but wished us well anyway - my neighbour fell in the latter category but she was with us in spirit and the item I borrowed was her hanky - and more importantly ... many thanks to them all for being happy for us.

I'd just like to finish with this little observation. Contrary to popular belief that having lived together for so long - not to mention the few years seeing each other before living ovver t'brush - that everything would be just the same ... this isn't so. It's totally weird and unexpected - but for both of us, it feels like starting out anew - and we're loving it!! ...

The Nightmares Have Begun

My regular readers will know that We've been to Ripley and booked our wedding ... OMG OMG OMG!!!!

Excuse my hysteria but time is whizzing past and the day will soon be upon us ... AAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!

I really must calm down, but I have to report that I'm well into the nightmare stage, where everything that can go wrong, DOES go wrong ... it's HORRIBLE and in glorious technicolor.

I've had to wake grumpy up to tell him about my dreams because we all know this prevents it from happening. Then I've had to retell him again during the day to make sure he's got it.

So far ... and these things are NOT going to happen because I've told anyone who hasn't been able to avoid me:

1. We're late and can't find anywhere to park the car (ooer does Ripley have a fair? where is it? when is it? ... HECK!).
2. We've forgotten the rings.
3. ditto chequebook and ...
4. The paper with our choice of words.
5. The CD - the less said about our choice of music the better, I'm already furious that I've never heard it in years and now at the 11th hour an advert has pinched it - but not to worry because ...
6. ... the speakers don't work.
7. It rains and NOTHING I'm wearing or carrying is colourfast.
8. My stockings/stay ups have rolled down my legs.
9. My dress has split.
10. All the beads fall off my dress.
11. My dress doesn't fit (yet) - this is true and probably accounts for numbers 9 and 10.
12. My hair and make-up are a total disaster.
13. My bouquet falls apart.
14. I lose both it and my engagement ring at the same time, hmmm
15. The groom can't remember how to do a Windsor knot in his tie ...

Hang on a minute though, I was awake for number 15. In fact I was having my breakfast in bed this morning and was being treated to a fashion - cough - show by my grumpy old man in his new suit and lovely spiffingly EXPENSIVE silk tie. After fifteen minutes I'd text everyone about his dilemma (I'm like that - proper nasty). Then I made him practice on an old tie ... this took another twenty minutes before we had a eureka moment.

I have to ask myself ... is it really worth it? ...

What's In A Name?

I'm afraid to say that you may have to get used to several blog posts referring to my upcoming wedding ... this is only to be expected, I am a woman.

Ahem, last week I was cruising t'Interweb to see what was required of me regards name change once the deed was done. I know I've done it once before but this was last century (25 years ago) and pre-Internet so not that many places where I needed to change it. But now in this more modern era, my name and indeed my present debit card details are liberally spread about. Damn, I just remembered another one to add to the never-ending list ... lawn bowls ergo my East Lindsey Keycard.

'Bugger it!' I announced. 'I'm not going through all that hoo hah to change my name, I like the one I've got and I'm keeping it.' This did not go down well amongst some of my lady friends (hmmm, surprisingly ... obviously they're not feminists). They seem to think I was being disrespectful to grumpy by not changing my name to match his.

Oho! this reaction was bound to irk me, something I'd said half jokingly was being taken seriously and with such a negative stance. What's wrong with you wimmin? Who says we've first got to bear our fathers name, then when he gives, GIVES us away to another man, we then become their possession and become (correct title) Mrs husband's Christian name husband's surname, NOT even (incorrect title) Mrs our Christian name husband's surname. Are we still living in the dark ages?

Hmmm, not once was it suggested by anyone that my grumpy old man change his name. I could probably go for Hubert Fauntleroy Fitzpatrick Fotheringham Abbot - it gets me back to near the beginning of the alphabet instead of me always bringing up the rear, incidentally my initial won't change this time.

Anyway, if I do decide to change my name, it'll only be because it's even more hassle not to, and not because it's the EXPECTED or traditional thing to do. What most wimmin don't seem to realise is that the wedding certificate is NOT a legal document to say your name MUST change or HAS changed. No, it's just proof of the right to change it if we want to ... when we're ready ... you know, there's no rush ... when we get around to it ... and if it's owt like my divorce, sometime in the next decade or so ...

Decree Absolute-ly

Now it's common knowledge among my friends that I've been living over t'brush for the last twelve and a half years. I was thinking of changing this status ...

I'm one of those individuals - probably borne out of sheer idleness - who never does today what can be put off until tomorrow ... or next week ... even better, next year (decade). This mind-set actually accounts for why it took nearly ten years to get divorced; not helped one iota by my ex-hubby (and friend) abiding by the same philosophy.

Anyway, after much badgering from family and friends - and don't forget, friends, if you don't shurrup I'll find me some new ones - I finally got the deed done. And to be honest, it was only because we were at the vets waiting for the cat's yearly overhaul, that I was close enough to the solicitors to make my first appointment.

It was fairly painless, except of course, to my bank balance. I was finally divorced three ago. My ex let me know because his decree absolute came straight from court, mine of course came from my solicitor; just to make sure they could squeeze every last penny out of me.

When my copy arrived, I gave it to the grumpy old man to put in his briefcase with all his important stuff, because I - being me - would have lost it.

If you're a seasoned reader of my blog - go and find something else to do - then you'll know that we got engaged on my 50th birthday, and as usual, why do today what can be put off ad infinitum?

There has since been even more badgering from friends - well one particular pain in the bum  - for us to get married. But as my ex said to me when I told him we were getting divorced ... 'What's the rush?' My grumpy old man certainly isn't in any hurry to get married and I'm sure I'll get around to doing it sometime.

Anyway, a few months ago I was talking via messenger to the friend who keeps asking ... 'Do I need a hat yet?' With the same reply as always ... 'You won't need one, you're not invited.' When I decided to search on t'Interweb for what documents we'd need if - you know, just in case - we went to the registry office.

Among them was my 'Decree Absolute' ... Oh, I know where that is, I'll just get it out. Off I went to rummage in grumpy's briefcase.

Oh, heck, it was there all right, and ever so easy to find - because some bleep bleep bleepety bleep t**t had written on the back of this legal document, telling me almost exactly what it is.

Well, any ideas of there being a grumpy + grumpess wedding this decade are so far off the scale as to be nigh on negligible. I mean, me being as pedantic as I am to the nth degree, I can't sit there smiling at the registrar and waft my decree absolute in front of him/her when it's got - in big, neat writing on the back - DEVORcE papers, now can I?

.....

This was amongst my drafts dated 30.11.11, and, ahem ... seeing as we - finally - went to Ripley this morning to see the registrar to give notice of intent to marry, book our wedding and prove that we knew each other and aren't trying to have an illegal sham marriage.

And ... as I so v-e-r-y carefully opened out my decree absolute so she couldn't see the writing on the back - which was by now actually making the left side of my brain itch - phew, what a save. I thought I'd finally publish it ...

Friday - Getting ready for 'THE WEDDING'

My Niece gets married tomorrow, I've spent a bucket load of money on make-up and accessories, I didn't go to this much effort or expense on my own wedding (relatively speaking, I know it was yonks ago). I rarely use foundation, it always used to make me spotty (oh to be that teenager again!). But I've now got one or two tiny blemishes and wrinkles that need a little minimising (ok, they're great big FURROWS).

My sister aka 'mother of the bride' says that she'll do my make-up for me [dunno why, I am perfectly capable of doing it myself] tomorrow morning - if I get there early enough - wedding 2pm. I need to be at said sisters by 11am to allow enough time for the make-up to set - hmm, I think she's trying to insult me but I can't quite put my finger on it...

I'm not altogether sure that letting my sis do my make-up is a good idea anyway, they're starting on the champagne at about 9am, if I get there at 11am she'll be sozzled when she starts on me. By the time I've been done (ages later) I'll have been drinking too and whatever minor miracles she'll 'appear' to have done to my face will no doubt be classed as BRILLIANT by yours truly, while I'll probably in actual fact resemble a decorative compost heap! I think to be on the safe side, I'll do my make-up before we go.

Now have you ever tried using individual lash inserts, the sort that last - ahem 'up to four weeks'? Well vanity dictated that I should have a go - They are a nightmare when you get to a certain age (someone who needs reading glasses).

Instructions - pour a few drops of 'Superfix Lash' adhesive onto a piece of aluminium foil [not included]. By the time I'd stuck the second one on the glue had dried. Now I'm not saying their glue is crap but you'd think it'd stay runny longer than that - say a week, in my case.

I tried doing them with specs on, looking through the lens with one eye while squinting with the other, that didn't work, I still couldn't see until I realised that I was in fact looking over the top of the lens so I could see and reach the squinty eye - so off with the glasses.
Hmm, I managed to get one stuck at the top of my nose, I might have left it and claimed that it was the beginnings of a 'unibrow' but I'm meant to be improving my appearance.

After my complete failure with the 'instructions' of - pouring a few drops of 'Superfix Lash' adhesive onto a piece of aluminium foil [not included] - I just dipped the lashes onto the doo-dah in the glue bottle and stuck them somewhere - well, 'close to but not touching the eyelid', as per the instructions - I think.

Anyway I persevered and now an hour later I've got lashes 'To Die For', shame they're stuck at odd angles, from one direction I look very surprised and from another I look half asleep.

OH SLEEP! I've got to go to sleep tonight somehow! WITH these lash inserts precariously balanced on my own stumpy lashes. What's betting I'll have to take them off in the morning because they'll be all screwed up and my own lashes are bound to fall out as I yank them off in a panic instead of remembering to use the remover [included].

Tomorrow, oh heck! I've got some false nails to put on ...