I’ve put this post off, as it feels almost too epic to write. But it’s time, guys. I’ve had to break the days down into smaller sections, because otherwise it’s just too epic. I cannot be concise here. Sorrynotsorry. So here I’ve just talked about the getting ready part of the day. Settle in, we could be here for a while.
Our wedding was on 29th August this year, and we decided to get married in the church in the grounds of my old school and then have the reception at my parents’ house, in a marquee in their garden.
The week running up to the wedding itself did not get off to a good start.
The person who was probably the most keen for me to get married was my five-year-old niece, Immy. In fact, a week before I got engaged she told me like a wise owl (with glittery face paint on), “When you and Furry Face get married, I am going to be your bridesmaid.” Continue reading
I hate keeping secrets of my own. I can keep other people’s secrets fine – the amount of pregnancies I’ve kept secret in 2014 is testament to that. Oh, that sounds wrong. I mean I’ve known friends are pregnant before they’ve ‘announced’ it and have been sworn to secrecy. I digress.
What I mean is I have trouble keeping secrets of my own, as I just want to blurt things out. I always want to tell people about the presents I’ve bought for them right away, because I am so excited to see their reactions. The month of December is torture for me, guys.
So now I have the ultimate secret: my wedding dress. I’ve ordered it. Eek! And my mum (who patiently accompanied me to the shops in my hunt for The Dress) and bridesmaids are the only people I am going to show. And I now have to keep the secret from nine months – and to have to keep it from Andrew is torture, because I normally tell him everything.