Cake For Breakfast

My favourite wedding moment

Aside from absolutely everything else I loved about getting married, this has to be unequivocally my favourite part of our wedding day. The expression on my face says it all because, as I have mentioned, this was completely out of character for my shy and retiring husband. 

I've only included the initial moment here because I don't want to embarrass the poor man by showing his amazing groom's speech to the whole wide world. And besides, it's 8 minutes long and surely no one wants to sit through 8 minutes of speech (again), do they?!

 

Very many thanks to the wonderful Mrs A who captured this and apologies for my techno-idiocy that I couldn't find a more streamlined method of presentation.

Woodhouse Wedding Report - The Summary

In case you missed any part of my epic wedding report, the links below should take you to wherever you want to get. And, as with all my posts, if you click on any of the pictures you should be able to view bigger versions of the images in a pop-out window.

                                   ♥ The Introduction
                                   ♥ Part 1 ~ The Week Before the Wedding
                                   ♥ Part 2 ~ The Morning of the Wedding
                                   ♥ Part 3 ~ The Grand Entrance
                                   ♥ Part 4 ~ The Ceremony
                                   ♥ Part 5 ~ The Blessing & The Speeches
                                   ♥ Part 6 ~ The Wedding Breakfast
                                   ♥ Part 7 ~ The Party
                                   ♥ The Aftermath

Many thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read all of this drivel and to those who have left such lovely comments. It has been brilliant to remember all the minutiae of our wedding day through these recaps and I hope they have been of some entertainment to others!

Is there anything else you want to know? Did I miss something out? Do feel free to ask questions and I will expound on them as soon as I can.

The Aftermath

There are two things I always hoped for from marriage:

1. A content husband
2. A Mulberry bag

 

These photos of Mr Woodhouse and Matilda the Mulberry (yes, I've named her, what of it?) were taken the day after the wedding as we stayed at Gatwick for the night before flying out to the Maldives for our honeymoon. It was such a surreal day as we were still running on adrenaline but absolutely knackered, and on top of that we were very much in our own little bubble. We kept looking at each other as though checking that we hadn't imagined everything and that we were in fact now married.

I've never felt so connected to anyone in my whole life. It was the best feeling.

Wedding Report: Part 7

The Party

All of a sudden, I looked up and saw evening guests popping their heads in to say hello whilst everyone else had adjourned upstairs for the evening reception. Nick and I realised with a bit of a jolt that we needed to step on it and get to the party! I left a lovely waitress in charge of whatever bits and pieces were left in the dining room, with her telling me she would get them back to their owners and I was to go and enjoy myself.

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We got into the lift with our good friend Doone and something terrible happened, probably something I shouldn’t publish in a wedding report on the internet. But I had been struggling with ‘wedding wind’ for days beforehand, and whilst it had ceased (presumably in terror and excitement) all day, it was back with a vengance in that lift. You can imagine how at odds this was with my pure and angelic appearance. My new husband was clearly calculating how quickly he could get an annulment. I rushed straight to the ladies as soon as the lift opened. I found it strangely wonderful being in the loo by myself – absolute solitude and peace and quiet for a few moments, during which I decided that my corset needed loosening or I was going to lose some ribs and that my tongue was in agony from where it had rubbed on my brace whilst I’d been talking all day. Both things would need to be remedied.

As I came out of the loo I bumped into my friends from work arriving, much to my and their excitement (not least because they had paracetemol which solved the tongue/brace issue). The downside of our venue choice soon became apparent, by which I mean that the tiny one man bar was situated between the flight of stairs leading up to the room and the actual entrance of the room itself. Imagine a space about 5m² (at the most) and then fill it with nearly a hundred people wanting a drink and you get the bottleneck of people we had trying to get in/out. It also meant that my husband, the bar manager, spent most of the evening out here in this slip of space instead of inside the actual room where lots of people had come to see him.

Nevertheless, the room itself looked beautiful. My Mum had received instruction to “create a sparkly, twinkling ambience” and she’d executed it perfectly. I chatted to old family friends who had come for the evening and to some friends who used to work for Nick. And then Herr Mother, the wedding dictator, informed me that some of our day guests wanted to hit the road so could we hurry up and do the first dance so that they could be on their way.

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Grimacing, I pulled Nick away from the bar and we made our way through the room as the lovely Andy announced our first dance. Everyone crowded round the dancefloor and took pictures of us shuffling awkwardly to Jonny Cash’s version of Memories Are Made of This. We tried to speed up the tempo of our dancing but that didn’t really work so we went back to shuffling. At least we were in it together. I was pleased when it was over, just so I could take a bow. I then all but dragged people on to the dancefloor as the track changed to Love is in the Air from Strictly Ballroom. Nick skulked off to the bar and I felt a huge relief to be able to dance around like an idiot with all my friends.

Shortly afterwards, Jordan and Nicky took their leave having had more than enough (particularly of my mother roping them into things that were in no way part of their job description). Jordan told me he’d had the same first dance at his wedding, and he’d had Journey for his recessional song as well. It was a match made in heaven. I gave them both a big hug and couldn’t thank them enough. I may have actually told them that I loved them.

The next few hours were a blur of dancing, sweating, chatting, saying goodbye and thanking people, buffet and cakes, dancing, sweating and a lot of trips to the loo. At one point, 6 people squeezed into the ladies and watched whilst I had my dress over my head and Nat loosened my corset. The photoframe of Nick’s childhood appaeared on a table by the bar which was quite a talking point as more people noticed it in an increasingly merry state of mind.

My brother and I are not afraid to throw some shapes.
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Nick’s parents had set up camp down the corridor where it was easier to park Nick's Dad's wheelchair and were receiving guests as they traipsed back and forth. I was relieved to go and sit with them where it was a) calmer and b) much much cooler. I think perhaps the sight of wedding guests on chairs in the hall was fairly amusing, but when the bride plonked herself down in the middle of the floor we really got some funny looks.

And after that there was more dancing and talking and sweating and laughing. At one point, I shoved so much wedding cake in my mouth that I nearly choked myself and had to stagger to the bar, whereupon I downed my brother’s whole drink in the time it took him to order one for me. I cuddled my (now very drunk) Daddy, I chatted with my Mum’s cousins, I did the whole dance routine to Like A Prayer with just Nat on the dancefloor whilst everyone looked at us like we were insane, I discussed shoes with an old college friend, I watched Natalie and Amelia being beautiful and drunk and crying together in a way that only beautifully drunk girls can, I took lots of pictures with my uni girls and laughed at their drunk boys, I recounted with delight the tale of my new Mulberry bag to anyone who would listen and then all of a sudden it was nearly midnight.

Nick had just been dragged on the dancefloor as Andy announced the final dance over the microphone. I seem to remember it being I’m Yours by Jason Mraz and I remember turning to the room and screeching for everyone to get up and come dance. I remember being thrilled when they actually acquiesced and the dancefloor filled up.

Nick held me close and swayed to the music, sighing in his tipsy way and telling me that he loved me. I’ll always remember how tightly we held on to each other and how he buried his face in my neck and the way we were both sort of crying because we could neither of quite express all the emotion built up between us. I looked up and people were all looking at us or swaying with their own loved ones and it became apparent that the love filled day that I had imagined had come true. Everyone was loved up, either on their own account or on ours and I loved them all the more for it. It was the perfect (official) ending to our day.

There was, of course, an after party in the bar downstairs where we took over the Drawing Room for a couple of hours, but there’s no need to recount such nonsense here. I finally managed to tear my husband away from talking football with the Spanish barman at about 2:30am and was amazed to see the bridal suite which was both enormous and full of all the stuff I had left strewn around an entirely different room 12 hours ago. Our little helpers had indeed been busy bees, as the room was also filled with all our wedding presents. For some reason, our friends Neil and Amelia ended up coming to look at the suite with us, but once they had gawped they left us with the task of getting my dress off.

Nick worked himself into a right old strop about the amount of buttons there were, refused to help on account of it being ‘silly’ and promptly fell asleep after having a fight to get his socks off. I ended up having to swivel the whole thing round (whilst breathing in A LOT) until it was back to front and then getting myself out of it. By the time my head hit the pillow after I’d undone all the buttons and taken out all my hairpins, I was genuinely more exhausted than I knew I could feel. But as I nestled under my snoring new husband’s arm, I also realised that I was happier than I even knew it was possible to be.

The End

Wedding Report: Part 6

The Wedding Breakfast

At some point in the proceedings I took my veil off as I didn’t want it getting in the way whilst I ate. It was only as I unclipped it from my hair that Nick actually realised I was wearing a veil. He had just been aware of the overall effect and not actually computed the fact that I had one, so he was naturally a bit disappointed when I took it off, having only just realised it was there. Nevertheless, I plonked it on the floor with gay abandon and am very thankful that my new sister-in-law was savvy enough to later pick it up and pack it away for me.

I had been ravenously hungry (for about a week) but when the food turned up I discovered that I was not the slightest bit interest in eating a thing. I later had to ask people if the meal was ok as I had no recollection of the taste of anything, even though I know I had put some food in my mouth at some point. We had grilled salmon fillet on asparagus tips with lemon sauce to start. I remember that the waiting staff had all come in with plates and stood around our table. They waited until they were all in place and then with perfect synchronisation they all set the plates in front of us in unison. I was so impressed that I hit Nick on the arm and told him that this was why we’d spent all our money on this place. I guess it’s the little things…!

We had an iPod in the corner of the room pumping out a playlist of favourite love songs submitted by our guests (and most of Twitter!) which as a great bit of background noise beneath the chatter. As everyone tucked into their food, Nick and I sat back and surveyed the scene: everyone we love and care about in one room, chatting, laughing and getting on with each other, all on our account. It was a really lovely atmosphere and we just sat there for a bit soaking it all up, chatting about the day so far, marvelling at our own luck for having such a brilliant day and amazing people to share it with. It was a fantastic but surreal moment, insomuch as it was the first time that day that we had been surrounded by everybody but without them all looking at us. We were looking at them for a change, and we felt very loved and honoured to have them all there.

The main course was blade of beef with potato fondant and a medley of vegetables. Again, according to those I asked, it was apparently delicious, but I have no recollection of eating any of it. I do remember Dan giving me thumbs up across the table for seating his wife Mel next to my Dad as they were both lost deep in conversation together about rock and roll. I remember looking over at Nat and telling Nick I thought she was beautiful and Nick telling me he thought she was amazing. I remember looking around the table and noticing that the chaps had all taken off their jackets and loosened their ties now that they could relax.

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Between main course and dessert, Nick and I went outside with the photographers to do our couple shots. Spots of rain were beginning to fall. Jordan took us on a whirlwind expedition around the grounds, accompanied by Nicky, his second shooter and Jack, Nick’s nephew who was filming the whole day for us and getting tips on how to turn pro like Jordan. I’m rubbish at having my photo taken and know how stretched my smile must have looked by the end of it, but it was great to have Jordan shouting things for us to do at us. I think we kissed more in that 20 minute photo session than we have in 6 years!

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There was another group of people having their pictures taken in the garden and as we walked past they said, “This’ll be you in another 50 years time.” I wished their parents a happy golden wedding anniversary and they in turn offered us their congratulations. Nat came out to tell us dessert was served, which was our queue to go much faster because I didn’t want to miss out on the sweet stuff! The rain droplets became heavier and more frequent. It started to rain properly just as my stilletoes sank into the grass, and at the same time the sun came bursting through in a glorious bright orange sunset. Jordan and Nicky started running round shouting that there had to be a rainbow somewhere. In the end we couldn’t find it, so with our smiles exhausted and our lips chapped from all the snogging, we headed back inside for pudding.

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Pudding was a white chocolate and raspberry cheesecake. I don’t even like cheesecake but at the menu tasting some months earlier, I had declared this to be divine. I was, therefore, disappointed to find that mine had melted slightly because we’d been outside so long. Nevertheless, I did actually manage to wolf it down and I made a start on my Mum’s as well. By the time we arrived back in the room for our dessert, our guests had started drifting around seats and mingling. People started coming up to me to marvel at the place names I’d made. What I had thought was quite a cool little idea (to add a specially selected quote to the back of each individual’s place tag) turned out to be a smash hit success! I was really thrilled that people had noticed them and very glad that I had taken time to do it.

Between dessert and coffee, we did the whole cake cutting thing. This proved particularly amusing as neither of us actually understand this tradition and we definitely had no idea how you’re supposed to do it. Jordan just laughed at me when I asked him for advice on cutting technique and merrily snapped away whilst I threatened to stab Nick if he didn’t help. I remember looking at our simple monochrome cake and thinking it was very pretty. I also remembering wondering if we were meant to literally just cut it, or cut a whole slice from it. We opted for just slicing it once and then walking off, leaving the knife precariously jutting out the side of the cake.

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That mission having been accomplished, I then noticed that a large frame full of photos of Nick through the ages had been propped up on the radiator next to the wedding cake. Nick’s niece, Becks, had put it together for us to keep and for a while she, Nat and I sat around pointing and laughing at the photos. It was a really sweet present and I loved having it on display throughout the rest of the wedding day for guests to look at.

I was then free to float between tables and chat to people as they enjoyed their coffee and petit-fours (FYI – small chocolates. I had no idea.). My girls from uni insisted that I open the special present that they had got me. Nick’s aunties all wanted to sit and chat and bestow gifts on me that I had no idea what to do with. I made sure I had time to speak to my grandparents and check that they had enjoyed themselves before they left. My uncle was amazed by the quotes on everyone’s name cards and repeatedly wanted to know where I had got them from. Nick was deep in conversation with his friends from school. I finally got round to chatting with my godmother and old school friends who I don’t get to see nearly enough anymore.

And whilst all this was going on and I was being a social butterfly, everyone else was busy on my behalf. The venue people very stealthily removed the table centrepiece to the reception room (I didn’t even realise they’d done this until much later when I was up there); Lyndsay tidied all the speech paraphernalia and things I’d left lying around into a bag so that I didn’t lose anything; Dan collected up gifts and had them deposited in our room; Ben went off to set up the disco equipment; my Dad was busily greeting evening guests in the bar; and at the helm of this was my Mum who was commanding the entire operation and giving orders to anyone who looked like they might be idle.

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She worked like a trooper all day and it was only afterwards that I realised I had forfeited all responsibility when I had left to go to the hairdressers that morning and she had (almost) quietly gone about making sure everything was as I had described it to her and that the day went like clockwork. We may have our differences, but she’s also pretty epic and thrives in these types of situations. I'm sure that without her directing operations, the day would not have been nearly as perfect as it turned out to be.

Coming up on Wednesday, the final installment...The Party!

Wedding Report: Part 5

The Blessing & The Speeches

Rebecca and Tom, the musicians, came through the Drawing Room en route to set up in the garden. I grabbed her briefly to say hello and thank you. They did a brilliant job and really helped build the casual, relaxed ambience we wanted. It was a really nice touch and although we hadn’t initially budgeted for them, I’m really glad we chose to go with it.

Simon came to get us once all the guests were ensconced in the chapel and we stepped out into the warm sunny garden. The chapel was a little gem - the only surviving part of a ruined 12th Century church, that had been preserved as it was the family mausoleum. There's still some of the original arches and tower, and part of the nave walls but essentially if you imagine some sort of Brontë-esque gothic ruin, you're pretty much there. As we crossed the lawn, we could hear the vicar coaching the congregation through the audience participation part of the blessing. It was the most blissful stroll, hand-in-hand, Nick holding the train of my dress up for me in the late afternoon sunshine.

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Cath Vickers, the vicar, came out to greet us with kisses and compliments. It was the first time she and Nick had met but she was so warm and reassuring I felt like we had known her all our lives. We entered the tiny crowded chapel to applause and whoops from our friends and family, and though I had spent a good deal of time imagining the space full of flowers and candles to create some atmosphere, all I remember seeing was the smiling faces of everyone we loved.

The blessing had always been a contentious issue insomuch as we were originally doing it to please my religious Gran, but over time we had both come to look forward to it as an added bonus. Cath Vickers did a brilliant job of turning it into a celebration after the formalities of the civil ceremony and made it clear that this was not a sermon about Christianity but a declaration of love. I was pleased we had someone so jubilant at the helm!

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My Granny did the reading she had chosen, ringing it out in her best church voice, but making it much funnier than I had thought she would. She was as resplendent and stately (she thinks she’s the queen) as we had imagined and I’ll always be pleased that she was a part of the proceedings. We weren’t overly fond of the last line about Jesus lingering in the air when she finished, but it seemed petulant to ask her to cut it out when it was the climax of the whole reading.

Nick’s sister, Leesa, was kind enough to do our bible reading (which, FYI, is pretty much the only pre-requisite for a blessing). We’d chosen Corinthians because aside from the lack of Jesus mentioned within in, I’ve always loved the description of what love is and isn’t. It was an emotional reading and yet also really sweet and touching and brilliant.

For a while I got terribly distracted by a money spider running round the collar of the vicar’s robes and then disappearing down her neck. I knew it’d be inappropriate to stop and tell her she was under arachnid attack, so I made do by squeezing Nick’s hand ferociously. We thought the blessing would be frighteningly strict with harsh words, but in fact it was just really lovely and the words were simple affirmations.

After some prayers and the blessing of the congregation, we left the chapel, once more to the accompaniment of applause and camera flashes. As far as I was concerned the blessing was a success – a brilliant opportunity to affirm our intentions and to get the support of our loved ones (who all had to shout “We will!” when asked whether they would help us to uphold our marriage vows).

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With a funny feeling of ecstasy we wandered across the lawn to be greeted by drinks on the terrace, chatting to each other and guests as we went. There was no particular plan for this part of the day, so between us we agreed that we would quickly go round saying hello to everyone, get all the group photos out of the way and then let everyone go off and check-in before dinner whilst we had our private portraits done.

We didn’t give Jordan a shot list because we didn’t want to be regimental about the photos, so we kind of just shouted out names and herded people up for pictures (with the very useful help of Nick’s 11 year old nephew, Jack, who acted as a runner). Generally we tried to keep the posing and posturing to a minimum, knowing that most of my family are sort of unphotogenic and that people prefer to get on with enjoying themselves than being forced to grimace. In the end it turned out that we must have spent too long chatting as our photo session with just the two of us had to wait until we snuck out to do them during a break between courses at dinner.

Rebecca and Tom were set up on the terrace so that everyone could enjoy some light acoustic music whilst sipping Pimms in the glorious sunshine. It was only at this point that I was able to fully appreciate each and every person that had turned up and it was so lovely to actually see them, rather than just vaguely know that they were there. I remember hugging so many people with gay abandon and each time they would unwittingly pull on my veil and I’d be irritated by it and have to push it back in. It was way longer than I remembered it being when I’d tried it on in the shop, but I knew that it looked lovely billowing behind me in the breeze.

At some point my dress got ruined from all the traipsing back and forth across the lawn. Wonderful big patches of grass stains began to appear around the hem and a very identifiable hole emerged where I had quite clearly put my heel through the delicate fabric. I realise that more girlier girls than I would have freaked out about this. And indeed, if I had opted to go with the original Jenny Packham ‘Elizabeth’ dress on which my frock was based then I probably would have gone mental about this. But as it was, I viewed these marks as battlescars or mementoes of the day and, as I reasoned with my incredibly concerned grandmother, I wouldn’t be wearing the dress again so it didn’t really matter if it was a little tortured around the bottom.

I remember Nick firmly holding my hand all afternoon and when we were apart I remember seeing him out of the corner of my eye, chatting confidently to anyone and everyone. I remember thinking, “Who is this forthright and assertive man I’ve married and what’s he done with my shy and inhibited boyfriend?”

I also remember it being very hard to get away from people once we had started talking to them. Of course everyone wants a piece of you. Conversation flows naturally and it was hard to say, “Sorry, your time’s up, gotta go speak t some other dudes” as you want to feel like you’ve spoken to everyone. Inevitably, it’s one of life’s impossible situations. There will never be enough time to get round everybody, but in this day and age I think wedding guests recognise and accept that and would prefer for the bride and groom to just have a good time. I hope!

Nevertheless, after some drinking, mingling and photos, everyone trickled inside for dinner. Nick and I stood near the staircase with my Dad, watching everyone queue outside The South Room as they checked their location on the seating plan. I turned to Dad who no longer had the dependably reassuring demeanour about him anymore and asked if he was nervous about his speech. It was only then that he admitted he had not long since had to rush to the bathroom in order to throw up, such were his nerves. You cannot imagine how guilty I felt! I hugged him hard, told him how proud of him I was and that it would all be fine. With a final kiss, he followed the last stragglers into the room whilst Nick and I held back, waiting for William the catering manager to make sure everyone was settled before announcing us into the room.

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As we pratted about outside waiting, two young waitresses were on standby, having just handed out trays of champagne flutes to our guests as they entered the room. They both told us how much they liked our gilded blackboard choices for the seating plan and menu (which I was very pleased with) and recounted that a recent wedding had used a white board with dry erase marker pens, which they certainly did not care for, claiming it looked cheap. I wondered vaguely how they’d feel if I told them ours were extraordinarily cheap as we had ‘borrowed’ them from our own pub…

William reappeared in the entrance to the room and commandingly asked everyone to be upstanding for Mr and Mrs Woodhouse. We had initially decided that we weren’t going to have this formality as it felt a bit hackneyed, but I’m glad we changed our minds because by this point I was loving the fanfare and very much enjoying getting a round of applause every time I walked in or out of a room. I even went so far as to wave regally at everyone as we made our way to our (round, equally sized, not long top) table.

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The other benefit of having the announcement was that as everyone else sat down, my Dad could stay standing and begin his speech without having to have a formal introduction. We had decided to get the speeches out of the way first so that the boys wouldn’t have their meals ruined by worrying all the way through about them. It is strange to me the effect that these speeches have on men and I’ll never be able to fathom how completely it can transform their entire personality.

My Dad was visibly nervous and I realise now that this was perhaps the first time in a very long time that he had had to stand up in front of a room full of normal people and be normal. I held Nick’s hand on one side and my Mum’s on the other. My Dad needn’t have worried though as he kept it short and sweet, made all the relevant points and made me proud. And best of all, he had tried to memorise the whole thing, just using his paper as prompt (which he had typed out in enormous font with massive line spacing, which I thought was ingenious, but didn’t actually help as my Mum moved it during his speech so he couldn’t see it anyway!).

As is traditional, we then moved on to the groom’s speech.

I think it’s safe to say that it was only at this point that I became aware that I wasn’t the only one who had been planning this wedding. Nick had a surprise for me.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” said he of the shy-and-retiring nature as he took a sheaf of papers out of his jacket pocket. “My wife lovingly wrote me a speech. It was all very nice and I had to thank everybody and all that and it had a story about us, but erm, we’re not doing that one…”

He threw the papers over his shoulder on to the floor and pulled out a different bundle of paper from his other pocket. He introduced his own speech to roars of laughter and hoots of approval. My face must have been an absolute picture of astonishment. Who was this assertive, proactive man I’d married?!

Somewhat astonished to hear Nick had prepared his own speech.
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Suffice to say, because I’d had very little to with it, it was the most glorious surprise. And I know I’m biased, but actually it was one of the best speeches I’ve ever heard – this from a man who struggles to understand the point of a full stop. It wasn’t just what he said (though that was good enough to make me cry), it was the delivery of the the speech that sent me into raptures as well. Nick is quite a cheeky chappy, but generally only once you get to know him and never in front of a room full of people, that’s for sure. And yet, that sparkle that he has, that twinkle in his eye was shining so brightly as he spoke, gently teasing my grandparents, making fun of himself and pulling his own family’s leg as well. Confidence, conviction and self-assurace meant that he really did knock my socks off with his speech, which the outrageous laughter, heart-felt toasts and jubilant applause from everyone else can attest to.

Once Nick had sealed his place in my mind as the most astonishing man EVER, he handed over to Dan for the first part of our best man speech. Dan would then, in turn, hand over to Nick’s brother Jeremy for the second part that had all the toasts. Completely random, you may think, but both of them had clearly put a lot of time and effort and thought into what they were going to say and it was really brilliant for us.

From Dan’s touching reminiscences of the teenage scrapes they got into to Jez producing Nick’s childhood stuffed animal, they both did a brilliant job of showing not only how much of a bond he and I have, but that he has with his family and friends as well. At one point I was laughing so hard that my stomach and chest muscles ached from trying not to strain against the corset of my dress. I remember Nick and I holding hands and sitting with our heads close together as we listened to the boys and he squirmed in his seat. I remember hearing my Granny groan upon hearing that there would be 4 speeches because she just wanted to eat (we all knew she would) and laughing to myself in the hope that they would go on forever just to annoy her.

Marcus the Monkey, Nick's childhood stuffed toy.
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I remember clapping until my hands hurt when the speeches were done and then turning to Nick in amazement as the room filled with chatter. He grinned at me like a mischievous school boy having managed to successfully surprise me. I felt like I was looking at him for the first time. 

Coming up on Monday...The Eating and The Posing!

Wedding Report: Part 4

The Ceremony

Taking Simon’s arm again, I was led back through the lobby to take up my position outside The Library where we were having the ceremony. Nat handed me my bouquet and I suddenly remembered the advice of one kind tweeter and tried to take a few deep breaths inhaling the scent of my flowers to calm my nerves. Couldn’t smell a thing, but it was a nice idea!

Nat went about straightening my train and smoothing my dress out whilst trying not to cry. In an effort to avoid any added emotion in the moment, I quoted from the previous day's episode of Bridezillas and told her that she had passed bridesmaid bootcamp stage 1 and would therefore be progressing to stage 2 imminently. I did my very best not to catch her eye as listening to her ragged breathing was bad enough and I didn’t want to set us both off wailing and sobbing.

I don’t know if my Dad was nervous or emotional at that point, I didn’t have the time to think about it. I do know that he was invaluable at that crucial time - his arm was strong for me to lean on; his face was smiling; his mood was buoyant and upbeat. All of the things that I explicitly needed, and he’ll probably never even know.

Simon popped his head round the door to see if the registrars were ready and then turned back to us.

“We’re fine to start if you’d like to step forward into position.”

Lovely old Clive from the hotel beamed at me.

Nat made a heavy sob sound.

The doors opened, I heard the rustling of everyone getting to their feet and the opening chords of Forever by Chris Brown which the brilliant acoustic duo had learnt especially for us.

I think Dad said, “Let’s rock” or something in my ear and I squeezed his arm and replied, “No, wait a moment…and walk slowly.”

The sun was streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind the registrars at the opposite end of the room, so when I looked up to see Nick, all I could see was a sea of shillouetted heads, all looking at me.

We began to walk and with each step the steely calm and marvellous stoicism I had been forcing on myself all day began to desert me as the emotion rushed over my whole body like a crashing wave. I battled with every fibre of my body not to cry, not to let my chin wobble or my eyes brim with tears.

And then my Dad turned to look at me as I looked at him and he laughed. Laughed right in my face. And all I could see was his big daft face smiling and laughing. And suddenly I was laughing too – or somewhere between laughing and crying, and realising that my face was desperately contorting between the two extremes as it tried to rearrange itself and thinking for the briefest of seconds how awful these photos would turn out to be….

The picturesque laugh/sob grimace.
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As we reached the ‘altar’, I was finally able to see Nick and he was stood there grinning at me like for all the world he’d won the lottery, hands clasped in front of him, looking so handsome and so cool, like this was all brilliant fun and no big deal.

“You’re in big trouble,” I told him, in reference to the Mulberry bag and he laughed knowingly. Dad stood to my side, smiling and I had to tell him to move a bit so that Nat could get past. I handed her my bouquet and gave her a big kiss as she passed and remember being quite surprised to see that instead of crying, she was smiling, a big beautiful smile. She winked at me and my heart melted. As she sat down I suddenly worried about the train of my dress not being spread out all nice and pretty but my Dad said it was fine and the concern instantly vanished from my mind.

Nick and I stood side by side grinning and nudging each other. I think I may have said something like, “D’you come here often?” as we listened to the last strains of the song and the registrar invited everyone to have a seat.

The registrar greeted everyone in a warm friendly tone and I remember feeling a tremendous energy in the room coming off everyone. I had only actually seen two people as we entered the room, (one of which was my brother with massive tears in his eyes which didn’t really help with the crying/laughing conundrum) but it seemed like I could feel everyone there, as though we were enveloped in a little pocket of love they were emitting.

I think the tone of the ceremony was set when I involuntarily snorted with derisive agreement when the registrar mentioned how “We need not just closeness, but also distance”, which made everyone else laugh too. It was a very personal ceremony in that I think both our personalities still shone through, despite the formality of the situation, with little asides like this or Nick forgetting how to say my surname or my wedding ring not going over my knuckle and having to tell people to talk amongst themselves.

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One thing I had failed to think about was speaking out loud. You may think this is ridiculous given that I’ve  had a lifetime of drama training and performing, but I have since had a lingual brace fitted and it really does affect the way I talk. This only occurred to me as I began to say the declaration and the voice coming out of my mouth didn’t sound like my own. I had to really concentrate to get the words out clearly and correctly, which I didn’t expect, and in doing so my little head bobbed about like I was gurning as I tried to get my tongue and teeth around the words.

Additionally, I hadn’t thought much about the value of the actual words we would be saying. Nick, who is ordinarily the shy one, was strong and clear as he pledged his life to me. Forever. And as he said these words, my heart swelled at the sheer magnitude of what he was saying and the absolute conviction with which he said them.

This therefore meant that when it was my turn to say the vows, a very obvious lump had formed in my throat. I had to address most of what I said to the knot of his tie because I knew that it would be too much for me to look directly at him. In fact, when I did look him in the eye, my voice wobbled, the words caught and my eyes were all full of tears, invoking a chorus of “Aaaw!” from the ladies in the audience (and for which I had to chastise them for provoking me further).

Saying those words out loud to each other was worth every single second of stress, worry and time-consuming planning that had led up to that point. I was emotional because it was the most amazing moment of my life. I remember Nick’s fingers gently caressing my hands throughout the time I was speaking and not knowing whether it was meant to be a soothing gesture for me or him, or both of us. I was just completely bowled over by his strength and ability to read my mind and calm me down. I was very happy that we belonged together at that moment.

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I remember exchanging rings because our best man, Dan, came forward with the rings (in a smart wooden ring box that Nick had had engraved with the date and a Shakespeare quote) and I squealed delightedly, “Oh! Dan’s here!” as though it were a complete surprise that he’d be there. In fact it was the first time I’d acknowledged anyone in the room other than Nick or the registrar.

I have to say that our readings were immense. There were three of them laced between our declarations, vows and signing of the register. We opened with Lyndsay, Nick’s sister-in-law, who set the tone by both looking completely fabulous and reading so calmly and reassuringly that it actually helped calm me down. I was aware that I shouldn’t look at the readers directly though because I thought that if I caught their eye it might put them off and would definitely set me off blubbering.

My brother, Ben, read next and I tried my best not to laugh as I was anticipating him reading in the style of Joey's sermon at Monica & Chandler's wedding in Friends, which he had threatened to do. Thankfully he chose to read the poem as himself - his cheeky, charming, affable self that makes grannies melt and total strangers laugh. It was lovely, funny, touching and made me so proud to have him as my big brother and one of my closest friends.

Finally, my school friend Jayne knocked it out of the park with a reading after we’d been declared man and wife. Now, granted, she’s a trained actress, but her reading was so good that I had people come up to me afterwards to say that out of all the lovely things that had happened during the day, it was her reading in particular that had caused them to shed a tear. She’s a professional tear-jerker. I think it helped that I hadn’t told her beforehand that what she was reading was actually the lyrics of a Meatloaf song, so that it couldn’t influence her interpretation.

Bursting into tears again after Jayne's reading
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These were the lyrics that my Mum had written out, illustrated and framed 30 odd years ago and have always been on display in our house, so this was not only a wonderful love song but also a nod towards the connection with my family. And because I hadn’t told them that it was going to be part of the ceremony, I could feel them all lose it when Jayne started reading. What a tear-jerker!

As for the signing of the register, it was a lovely opportunity for Nick and I to have a little chat. He told me how much he liked my dress. I know he was definitely taken aback by what a good version of myself Katy had managed to produce. This was definitely not the small girl in baggy jeans and a hoody that he'd lived with for six years!

I danced a little bit in my seat to the music (the Taken By Trees version of Sweet Child O’ Mine followed by I’m Yours) whilst the registrar sorted out the paper work. We both struggled to sign the register properly as our hands were shaking fiercely from the adrenaline. I tried not to sit on the bottom of my veil. Nat and Dan witnessed the signing. We were then given a fake register to pretend to sign whilst people took pictures and suddenly we were faced with a wall of paparazzi wanting to take our photo. Nick’s mum, being on the front row, hadn’t realised that the roomful of people behind her were taking pictures and therefore strode out obliviously to the front and centre, blocking everyone else and causing us great amusement.

The officiant finally got round to giving Nick the marriage certificate as our poor acoustic duo had been heroically spinning Jason Mraz’s I’m Yours out into several extra choruses to fill the gap. We stood up and I realised that the chair was on my dress, which meant I had to flail about a bit and ask the registrar to help me get out. We returned to the front of the table, facing all our gorgeous wedding guests. Someone handed me my bouquet. Nick and I held hands. We were declared married. Everyone clapped. The band played Don’t Stop Believing as we walked down the aisle. I grinned at everyone, Nick grinned at everyone. I noticed my godmother who I hardly ever see right on the back row and nearly stopped there and then to give her a hug, but sufficed with a squeak and a grin.

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We got to the door where Simon was waiting for us. He handed Nick a glass of champagne, me a little orange juice and congratulated us, before leading us into the Drawing Room, alone, as all the guests were taken out of the garden door and across to the chapel for the blessing. There was no one else in the Drawing Room, so it felt a little bit like we were lord and lady of the manor as we expressed our relief that the ‘hard part’ was now over. Nick told me again that he liked my dress – I was beginning to believe him. We sat opposite each other in massive velvet armchairs and, for a while, we just grinned at each other. 

Coming up on Friday...The Blessing

Wedding Report: Part 3

The Grand Entrance

There was a knock at the door. Nat went to open it as she had for all the previous knocks in the last half an hour whilst I cowered out of sight, trying not to trip over my own dress.

“Do we have a bride ready?” asked Simon, the duty manager, who had come to collect me. I stepped forward and he broke out into a grin. “We most certainly do, and what a beautiful bride she is.”

My Dad stood behind him, looking over at me all glassy-eyed but not saying anything as everyone had been told not to be nice to me before the ceremony because it would only make me cry. I was slightly taken aback to see him as we'd agreed he would wait downstairs for me, but seeing him peeking round the corner was actually a massive relief.

At this point something odd happened and I suddenly went into tunnel vision. I was aware of other people and everything around me, but could only actually see what was directly in front of me or what I was consciously focusing on. It’s as if my periphery vision was switched off from that moment and everything was honed in precisely on my experience of what was going on. My own perspective became enhanced and it was actually really intense.

I told Nat, who was doing a magnificent job of trying to hold it together, not to forget our bouquets as they were probably quite important. There was some discussion about which way round to hold them, which was actually completely superfluous as I put my bouquet down about 5 times between leaving the room and entering the ceremony anyway, so it probably wasn’t at the agreed angle in the end anyway.

In order to give myself something to do, I straightened Dad’s tie, trying not to think how sweet it was that he was wearing a tie just for me. After all the cogitating about what he should wear that would go with his rocker hair and personality, he actually scrubbed up very well (and given that he was still wearing his tie when we all went to bed, I guess he can't have been that uncomfortable...). He may not be an atypical father-of-the bride, but he was the perfect father for this bride.

Taking Simon’s proferred arm I tried to walk but soon realised that I was impeded by the train of my dress. Everything seemed to be much longer than when I had tried everything on beforehand. In the end, I gave my bouquet to Nat and carried the hem of my dress in one hand whilst clinging on to Simon with the other.

As we set off down the corridor with Nat and Dad chatting away behind us, another hotel guest made her way up the hallway, saying loudly over her shoulder to her husband that they were in room 44. I found myself realising that we’d just come from room 44 and there was no way she was going to get in there as a) it was still full of our stuff everywhere and b) I had no idea where the key was (and it was the spare key after the bride from the previous day had done exactly the same thing). For a second I was quite bothered about this because I had intended to have all our things packed into piles with little notes annotating which room everyone’s belongings were to be distributed to. I had thought I would be more organised but the previous 3 hours had been chaos, and the room was proof of that. I just had to trust that some nice person from the hotel would sort everything out for us. As such, I immediately forgot about the woman trying to get into our room.

Moments before the knock, Nat hard at work on my dress whilst I try to calm myself down.
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Tottering down the narrow staircase, I observed the little jokes I was making to Simon and was impressed by how remarkably calm I was making myself appear to be. Despite this, there was a mild note of panic in my voice as we rounded the corner near the ceremony room and I asked, “The door is definitely shut, right?”, fearing that everyone would turn round and see me too soon. Simon reassured me it was but went ahead to double check anyway. When the coast was definitely clear, he led me through the foyer to meet the registrars in the bijou Oval Office at the front of the building. He was so sweet getting me those few steps to the room, leading me carefully – so carefully – and calling me darling in a soothing voice the whole time.

The registrars were two smiling, friendly ladies who looked like they could have been school dinner ladies. I greet them with my best smile, shake hands and try not to sit on my veil as I sit down. Suddenly, my interview demeanour kicked in and I was as assured, charismatic and assertive as if I were trying to win my dream job from them. They told me how much they liked my dress but I was so paranoid about anyone over the age of 50 thinking it was too boobilicious that I managed to convince myself that they were staring at my cleavage.

Despite surprising myself with my detachment from my own hysteria, there was a particularly odd moment when I seemed to completely forget that I was talking and stopped halfway through a sentence. With a little gentle prompting from the registrars I sailed through the rest of the inquisition, even when asked the tricky (and completely archaic) question of what my father’s profession is. Aside from that, I appeared to be a picture of serenity. I told them how to correctly pronounce my surname and they wrote it down phonetically. I made witty banter. I spoke clearly and coherently. I smiled and smiled and smiled.

Once the formalities were complete, the ladies told me they would go into the ceremony room to sort out the photographers and summarise the proceedings to the guests. They gathered up their folders and their handbags and took their leave like congenial aunties heading for the buffet table at a party.

For just a moment, I sat by myself, completely motionless, staring at the rolling grounds outside the window and took a deep breath.

Show time.

Coming up on Wednesday...The Ceremony

Wedding Report: Part 2

The Morning of the Wedding

Waking up at 5:45 am to the sound of Mum coming upstairs to the loo; not being mad at her anymore about the night before but wishing today would be different; deciding to stay in bed until a more reasonable hour; updating Facebook status to “FYI – I’m getting married today”; so many messages of luck and love on Twitter; Nat’s grumpy sleep face; getting up at 7am, going downstairs and getting into bed with Mum; chatting for half an hour; getting up to have a bath before breakfast; waking Nat up; trying to have a calm quiet bath with Mum interrupting to tell me not to cut my legs (which I did, 6 times) and Nat flamboyantly demanding that I wear my cupcake shower cap, shouting, “It’s all I ask!”; a much needed soak, shave, cleanse and moisturise before getting dressed.

Mum & I getting our heads together prior to breakfast, looking great after very little sleep.

Being greeted by the hotel staff in reception who were all excited on my behalf when we went downstairs; meeting Mum on a bench in the garden; an early morning mist being burnt off by the makings of a sunny day; photos in the garden; waving across the lawns to Aunty Eileen in her room; breakfast in the Oak Room; more photos of us eating breakfast; Penny & Peter (Nick's parents) and Eileen coming in for breakfast and ordering Full Englishes whilst I struggled with a bowl of Coco Pops; Mum’s burnt toast; enough.

Indecisive about looking at the rooms first or getting wedding tat out of the car; taking the stairs to look at the Long Gallery on the 2^nd floor for the evening reception; Simon (hotel duty manager) chasing us all the way upstairs and breathlessly introducing himself; quick recce of the room proves all looks good and so decide to bring tat in; Nat and I bring car round to the front of the hotel and she tells me it’s ok if I want to run away, but could she put her dress on first before we drive off?; Mum & I begin to unload whilst Nat goes off to shave armpits.

Back in the Long Gallery, Simon and I have a chat about absurd bridal requests, including someone who was a big Harry Potter fan and wanted an owl to fly the rings in and drop them in the best man’s hand; Mum appears to tell me I’m going to be late for the hairdresser and we all do a double-take at the time; we dash back to the room to find Nat in just her dressing gown and bridesmaid shoes, grinning like an eccentric old dame; “Get some clothes on love!” I yelled as I ran round the room picking up keys and bags and giving advice to mother; Nat trying to walk briskly in Mum’s fit-flops…I still have no idea why she was wearing them; sprinting across the car park to Nat’s car, waving at Penny as we went and shouting, “Now I’m not calm and I’m late!”; Nat realising she had but a trickle of petrol left in her car as we fired it up.

A fraught journey into Stratford town centre, hoping there would be a petrol station on the way, willing the traffic to go faster; our phones getting reception once more and the constant beeping on my phone as emails and texts piled in; Cath announcing she wasn’t coming because she had tonsilitus; me frantically messaging Dad (not knowing he’d been in his own car accident!!!) to relay the message; a quick chat about the architecture of the new Royal Shakespeare Theatre whilst raining down a storm of curses on everyone in our way; trying to walk quickly around very slow tourists.

Arriving at Matthew Curtis’ salon like a pair of mad old ladies in a fluster to be greeted by a sea of reassuring smiles from glamourous style assistants; finally sitting down and getting my breath back and letting everyone else’s calmness wash over me; Nat texting me from 2 chairs down as we couldn’t see/hear each other to say she’d cried twice since arriving at the hairdresser; me texting her back to say that I’d forgotten to bring my additional sparkly hairpins; a mild panic about Nat having to insert said hairpins when we got back to the venue; Nat forwarding me messages from her friends wishing us/her luck for the day; Matthew Curtis being completely calm and charming; Nat’s hair being complete after what felt like 10 minutes, me being done in 40 minutes and therefore our whole day being back ahead of schedule; seeing my hair all done and thinking, ‘Yes, my plan is coming together.’

Heading back through town to the car park with really elaborate hair-do’s amidst the sea of Saturday shoppers; not having to pay for parking which made me say “This is going to be a good day after all”, to which Nat replied, “I’m glad that’s what’s made your day, like it would have been shit if we’d had to pay”. The car not catching on to the starter motor causing Nat’s stress levels to go through the roof as we drove round the multi-storey trying to stop the car from stalling immediately; finally exiting the car park into 3 lanes of heavy traffic and stalling; sat nav refusing to pick up any satellites to tell us where the nearest petrol station was and me desperately directing us round the one way system to where I thought there might be one; Nat literally screaming at other drivers and the foulest stream of language at every instance of traffic and junctions – “It can’t be a fucking surprise that the lights are going to turn green sweetheart!!!”; finally getting to a garage via my old (newly rebuilt and fairly unrecognisable) sixth form college; going past the hotel Nick was staying in and getting excited at seeing a man in a similar tshirt in the garden but it wasn’t him; having kerrang radio station antagonising the situation; Nat practically begging the car to work after filling up the petrol and it still not catching on…until it clearly got a fuel injection and pootled along merrily; Nat driving like a mad woman and me constantly reassuring that we had plenty of time (and secretly hoping we didn’t die); going through market day with old people drivers and Nat shouting out random goods she wanted me to buy – “Get some bread, quick! And a cauliflower!”

The feeling of relief as we finally got out of the town centre and hit the open country roads; switching from rubbish rock FM to Classic FM; pissing ourselves laughing at the ‘Great Escape’ music which we turned up and blasted out of the windows as we zoomed through the countryside; Nat reiterating that we could just drive off if I wanted a la Thelma and Louise.

Ettington in the sunshine, with Nat's car parked safely at last!

Turning into the drive for Ettington and suddenly being overwhelmed and bursting into tears because it looked so beautiful in the sunshine and soon everyone else would get to see it because they were all coming for our wedding and that was really nice of them; poor Nat trying to steer, park and comfort me all at once; strange sensation that even though everything was happening, it was already all over.

Pulling myself together in seconds and having seen that the cake and flowers had arrived from the cars outside, heading inside; finding Mum and Damon setting up the South Room together based on all the lists of instructions I had given her; feeling perfectly happy with relinquishing all control for the set-up to her as desperately wanted to go and sit quietly in the room for half an hour; somehow ended up decorating tables with scatter crystals and watching Mum direct all the hotel staff to do whatever she told them to, including poor Simon who of course did know better than her but had the good grace to let Mum think that she was in control; having a quick chat with Jennie the florist and meeting her partner who had helped her bring everything; vaguely wondering why the flower containers were painted white and not plain zinc like we discussed and being surprised at how orangey/red the berries were; not mentioning any of this because actually they were really beautiful arrangements and I knew it didn’t really matter as I was the only one who knew what the original image was.

Katy the make up artist arriving in a timely fashion so that I could leave Nat to help Mum sort out the tables; feeling bad that the room was a mission away as we got Katy’s kit up the stairs and into the room; sudden realisation that the room may be big but it was bunged round the back where the natural light was appalling; rearranging the furniture to try and make the most of a bad situation; Jordan the photographer arriving and confusing the hell out of me by not looking anything like I remembered him; worrying that he was there so early that the next 2 hours would be deathly boring for him; Nat arriving with a bit of eye rolling and offering to make everyone teas and coffees but not actually making them until much later; being much more hyperactive than I realised as Katy kept telling me to stop talking and/or sit still; Jordan having to remove dead insects from the floor for us; Jennie bringing up the bouquets and buttonholes; Jordan and Jennie taking the stickers off the bottom of my shoes so that they could be photographed and I suddenly realised I hadn’t done it; giving Jennie a massive hug as she wished me luck and left as I realised I’d probably never see her again.

Nat and I getting glammed up by the uber-amazing Make-Up by Katy
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Being by the window whilst having my make-up done and being able to see people arriving; giving Katy and Jordan a running commentary on who everyone was and a summary of all my crazy family politics; swapping seats so that Nat could get her face done; reading aloud from Jane Austen’s “Emma” that I happened to have handy; discovering a wasps nest outside the window after a rogue one got in and made a beeline straight for Katy who is not bug-friendly; sitting on a chair chatting away and seeing Nick and best man Dan getting out of a car causing me to do a drop and roll on the floor in order to stay out of sight and crawling commando style across the floor, which Jordan took great pleasure in photographing; going to the bathroom and actually looking in the mirror for the first time since my hair and make-up had been done, which was a very pleasant surprise and caused me to involuntarily shout, “Holy shit, I look hot!”

People coming and going in a constant stream in and out of the room; wondering where Mother had gone when she had given a precise time that she would be back to have a bath and get ready; Mum finally turning up and being befuddled by the fact that she didn’t understand how the plug in the bath worked; feeling a bit like a princess held captive in a tower, knowing lots of people were downstairs and I wasn’t allowed to see them; telling Ben to tell Nick I hadn’t had my card yet and him going a bit pale; Katy kindly offering to put my sparkly hairpins in so that Nat didn’t have to; Jordan amusing himself by taking photos of anything in the room from dresses to jewellery to me peeking over the banisters like a mischievous kid at Christmas; getting slightly annoyed at the explosion of mess everywhere which wasn’t the calm organised process I ahd planned in my head.

Hiding out of view on the floor. A bridal ritual I'm told.© Source Images 

Katy putting the finishing touches to our make-up and then turning to me with a lovely smile and saying, “Do you think you should get dressed now?” and me thinking, ‘Oh yeah, that’s what I’m here for’; watching late wedding guests sprinting across the car park with their outfits in hands and laughing at how anxious they looked; saying goodbye to Katy and wishing she could stay all day with her soothing influence; leaving Jordan out in the hallway for ages whilst we got changed as I didn’t realise he was only round the corner and thought he’d gone all the way downstairs so I wouldn’t be able to get him back; Bex delivering my card from Nick, which also turned out to be a present of a Mulberry Bayswater; having to read the card a few words at a time and then look away so that I didn’t cry and ruin my face; shouting that he was a bastard for leaving it to the last minute when Katy had already gone and couldn’t patch me up; Mum finally being ready but refusing to comment on how I looked in my dress because I’d told her not to make me cry; Ben coming to collect Mum and also trying not to say anything nice to me; Jordan having to do the buttons on my dress up as no one else would help, but once he’d mastered the old crochet hook & eye trick he was a dab hand; Mum falling over the train of my dress and a sharp intake of breath – about the dress, not that she nearly cracked her head open on a mirror!

My reaction as Mum fell over my dress.
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Nat putting my veil on for me; everyone going downstairs and leaving Nat and I alone, trying to be calm and not cry; the feeling of my heart thumping so hard that I couldn’t breathe properly; Nat constantly sounding like she was holding in a massive sob the whole time we were waiting, which was probably only minutes but felt like an eternity; feeling like I was just too full of love and might burst.

Coming up on Monday...The Grand Entrance! 

Wedding Report: Part 1

The Week Before the Wedding

The weekend before our wedding was August bank holiday. Whilst most people who shared the same date as us for their wedding were probably jubilant at having extra time off work to prepare, it was of absolutely no use to us as Nick and I live in a pub. A busy, popular, city centre pub, that has to be open at weekends, but even more so at peak times like Bank Holiday Sundays. So I spent the weekend before our wedding serving cider to cretins and revellers and mentally cursing them all for impinging on my pre-wedding build-up.

Luckily, I am quite organised, as you may have noticed by now. As such, we had pretty much everything done by this point. When we finally closed the pub and had quiet old Bank Holiday Monday to ourselves, all that needed doing was packing for the following three weeks, and perhaps a bit of a clean of the flat. It was no big deal.

Tuesday was my last day in the office. I spent my time trying equally to hand over any work that might be due and curbing questions from everyone relating to the wedding. My colleagues had very kindly had a whip round and I was presented (in a very non-embarrassing manner, thanks to my good friend) with a really lovely card signed by everyone and some John Lewis vouchers. I was very touched.

Wednesday was my last official day of work and coincidentally was a team trip to some local sites that various people had been working on. I could not have asked for a more glorious last day! It was hot and sunny as we toured local historic properties, had a tasty picnic in the park and got to see into all sorts of nooks and crannies of old houses that regular people don't get to see. I was in heaven!

The beautiful Goldney Hall bathed in sunshine - not a bad way to finish work!

On Wednesday night, I started piling up everything that I would be taking with me to my Mum's in the hallway, ready for the morning. It was around this point that I actually began to get nervous. Eating became a problem - I couldn't manage dinner or much else in the meals between Wednesday night and Saturday. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest and it left me short of breath. I couldn't sleep that night and when I did doze off intermittently I woke up with the most painful palpitations I've ever had! I think really that this was down to being worried about leaving something behind as I was the one taking all the wedding stuff up, all Nick had to bring was his suit and himself. I was also a bit freaked out that the next time I would be in my own home with my cats I would be a wife, and it seemed like such a massive thing to happen in such a short space of time.

Saying goodbye to Nick after we had strategically packed the car on Thursday morning felt a bit like when you get into your seat on a roller coaster and the security bar comes down on you. You know what's about to happen but nothing can quite prepare you for it. We had one last kiss as boyfriend and girlfriend and then I drove ridiculously carefully with my car full of wedding treasure up to my Mum's in Birmingham. I was pleased to find her in a proactive, positive mood and no sooner had I arrived than Natalie, my bridesmaid and BFF rocked up for a spot of lunch before we headed off to get our nails done. Which was a tedious waste of several hours, but actually helped considerably in calming me down. I had no more palpitations after I'd been sat with my feet in a cold foot-spa for an hour I can tell you. We picked up my Dad's suit and headed back to Mum's, where she was busily baking several dozen cupcakes for Saturday. After a long chat and lots of cuddles, we turned in for an early night.

Friday came and with it was my Dad, who had flown home from a gig in Ireland. Poor fellow had been given a ticket for a flight the week before and in a panic about getting home in time, had had to purchase a whole new one and take the only flight available. Which was via Brussels. To say he was not happy would be an understatement. He was also extremely tired, so we packed him off to bed for a few hours. I'm not really sure what I did all day, but I remember some neighbours coming round and playing with their very small daughter who was distraught when I had to leave her to get to our venue, Ettington Park Hotel, in time to meet Nat for check-in.

The sun was blazing as my little Punto and I drove through the Warwickshire countryside. I was happy. And then a song came on the radio, so bizarrely timed and wonderfully unexpected that I nearly crashed my car because I was sobbing with happiness. It was the song that Nick and I would be walking out of our ceremony to. I turned it up full blast and sang as loudly as I could in my hysterical, out of tune voice. I would hate to be the person driving behind me down that road.

Nat and I getting in some spa action before the craziness commenced.

I did eventually arrive, safe and sound and, having pulled my hysteria together, Nat and I checked into our little suite. It being a family meant that it was like a small house, with a sofa bed in the lounge and then the bathroom and bedroom up some stairs. Despite some shenanigans about not actually having a room key, we soon got ourselves kitted out to go to the pool.

Let me tell you, having a pool, jacuzzi, sauna and steam room all to yourself whilst you watch the sun begin to set in a crystal blue sky through a glass ceiling is possibly the most relaxing way to spend a few hours before your wedding. And also trying to have serious conversations with Nat in the jacuzzi which meant that every time she opened her mouth to speak she got splashed in the face is one of the most hilarious memories we've ever made together.

Later in the evening my parents turned up with all our dresses and the wedding treasure that I couldn't fit in my car. We unpacked everything and then my Dad took us for dinner at a lovely pub called 'The Bell' down the road in the village of Alderminster. Without getting too much into the details of things, the whole wedding was always going to be difficult for my Mum and her anxiety started to show during dinner, making the meal a wonderful melting pot of good food, laughter, molly-coddling, arguing, crying, and general umbrage making.

Me, Mum and Nat at dinner, before all the umbrage...

This was swiftly followed by an awkward rendez-vous back at the hotel in which my Mum forced Nick's relatives to have a drink with us and then acted like the most recent escapee from a local asylum. It's at times like this that I am thankful to have a best friend by my side who knows the ins and outs of our family to hold my hand. And it's at times like this when I'm really happy to be marrying into a 'normal' family!

Suffice to say, by the time Nat and I retired to bed (having sedated mother in the sofa bed downstairs), the last thing that was on my mind was the wedding. I recall texting my brother with some truly poisonous rant (which I regretted the next day) and texting Nick, who I knew would be having much more fun in town with his friends and brother, than me who was lying awake in bed fuming. When I envisaged myself as a bride-to-be on the eve of my wedding, I always thought I'd be a little bit nervous and excited, but actually my Mum did a fantastic (if stressful) job of distracting my attention and I can assure you that when I finally drifted off to sleep at stupid o'clock in the morning, the impending wedding was the least of my worries!
 

Coming up on Friday...The Morning of the Wedding!