Each week radio DJ Laura Pittson opens up her wedding planning diary...
Hi everyone
Well, as soon as I wrote the word April on a cheque, shivers went down my spine, and my wedding day suddenly felt very close indeed. The words ‘only seven weeks to go’ don’t seem half as frightening as the words ‘next month’, but there we are, and it’s certainly an incentive to get a move on!
When I say frightening, of course it’s not because I’m frightened of actually getting married, I got over that ages ago... it’s the idea that nothing seems to be completely ready yet and there really isn’t that much time to go. Even the invitations have had a little glitch.
Would you believe it, after proofreading them myself, AND getting Mark to proofread them, we had a phone call from the Wren Press who were just about to go to press, telling us that we’d put all the essentials, ie the name of the church, the address etc....but forgotten the vital bit – the date and time of wedding!!! Thank goodness they were on the ball, otherwise we would have had an awful lot of phone calls! In that case, crisis averted, but I’m sure there are probably many more on the way.
One of the things that seems to be causing a bit of hassle at the moment is the honeymoon. Ah the modern marriage. Of course in our dreams, I imagined myself tossing the bouquet into the distance and roaring off into the sunset with cans and ribbons tied to the back of the car without a care in the world.
There are many reasons why this isn’t going to happen. The first is children. I have four stepchildren, and our wedding is right at the beginning of half term, which means that we could come home from the honeymoon and find out that our house has been number one party destination for the county. We considered risking it, and then decided it wasn’t worth it.
The second reason is relatives from abroad. We both come from very big families, and of course there is a rather large contingent from abroad. For me, spending time with them will be part of the celebration, as my aunts, uncles and cousins are all very dear to me. The thought of waving them off when I’ve hardly had time to chat seems like a form of torture.
Perhaps the worst problem of all is that we can’t decide where to go. Our original plan was Kenya, it’s a place we would both like to visit, however there are so many political troubles out there, we decided we might end up with more than we bargained for! So I would like to pin the tail on a place that I love and I always have a great time - Monaco. I wondered if it would be better for us to have just a short inexpensive break now, and then take off to Monaco next January.
The reason I say January is that the weather is surprisingly good at that time (even more appreciated when it’s normally so dreadful here) and the International Circus Festival is on. This to me is the perfect way to lose myself in my wonderful world of make believe. Think back to circus as it was when we were small.
It’s a huge spectacle, with a live, heart lifting band, all in colours of red and gold. All the best circus acts in the world come together to compete with each other to win the much coveted Clown D’or. With pretty girls and handsome men doing trapeze, acrobatics and many more things that are a wonder to behold, to me its sheer escapism. Yes, I know it’s meant to be a surprise, but fiancé, if you’re reading this, I’d be delighted with Monaco and the International Circus Festival for our honeymoon.
On the ‘drop a dress size’ front, it’s week two of my three-times-a-week training with Tafara from Esporta gyms. Amazingly I’ve stopped aching, and I actually did 15 minutes on the running machine without stopping this morning and felt incredibly unflustered. The muscles feel more toned but I think it’s probably early days yet to see any results.
Tafara will be brandishing a tape measure next week, so I’ll let you know how I’m getting on (don’t anyone mention the chocolates I had at Easter!). I’ll also be talking flowers next week, so do join me, and of course, please do email me if you have any honeymoon ideas…!
