Shall we just, erm, skim over the fact that this is my first post in two months? Mmm? Let’s not dwell on my sudden disappearance from the blogging world and my distinct lack of effort to even say Hi/check in/write more than 140 characters on Twitter. We just won’t mention it. Like, ever again.
No we won’t.
It’s all been a bit of a blur, truth be told. May Madness, I was calling it to anyone who listened. I’d thought April was busy but May took multi-tasking to a whole new level, let me tell you. Here’s a little taster of the last 8 weeks…
Praise be to the solicitors- we’ve moved!
Hello new house; Utterly Wow HQ; fish eye living room; just call me Carrie Bradshaw
We completed on 2nd May- the Friday of the first May bank holiday weekend and a date Paul and I had cheekily suggested (it was sooner than anyone had previously mentioned) but one which everyone amazingly agreed to. Now as everyone who has ever moved home before knows, it takes up a teeny weeny bit of your time and can be just a leeetle bit stressful. Our move went surprisingly smoothly, despite the various ‘I HATE PACKING’ tantrums I pulled which may or may not have involved the stamping of feet. On move day itself I took on the role of Project Manager, Communications Officer, Cleaner, Furniture Placement Director and Cat Care Assistant, whilst Paul, his Dad and his brother took on the less enviable role of Removals Men. They did a sterling job, and by 5pm we were in our local pub, ever so slightly delirious and toasting to this huge, beautiful house Paul, Lenny and I have somehow managed to acquire.
Of course, what follows a house move is a couple of weeks of trying to make that house a home. We’ve spent every spare second and day off at Ikea/Homebase/B&Q/insert appropriate home-ware store. Paul has bought useful things like furniture and power tools. I’ve impulse-bought light pendants and throws and have ended up taking much of it back. We’re at the stage now where everything is unpacked and pretty much has a place to live. The house is by no means finished- in fact we haven’t even got started- but as an entirely liveable space with faux wooden floors and neutral walls, the doing up and general home improving is going to be a long and gradual process. Whilst we’re not thinking of this as our Forever Home, we do intend to be here for a long while (possibly up to 20 years- crikey!) so it’s comforting to know that there’s no rush to do anything.
You may notice there’s a House To Home category in the Pleasure section in the menu bar. I intend to fill this category over time with house-related posts if you lot don’t object? House tours and Before and Afters and that sort of thing…
Release the doves- Wedding Season has begun.
The Top Bananas; I do; creative crafters; streamers from hell
One of the reasons I really pushed for us to move at the beginning of May was because my first full wedding season was kicking off with three Big Days in a row starting at the end of the month. I was a little apprehensive about taking on three in succession, but as each enquiry came in with tantalising details of what sounded like completely unique, creative, glorious weddings, I just couldn’t say no. And whilst I spent an entire month surgically attached to either my emails or Excel, these completely unique, creative and glorious weddings were totally worth it.
We had performers on stilts, a disco in a shed, torrential rain, glorious sunshine, vintage ladybird books, sequin runners, a Bugsy Malone singalong, champagne saucers, food trucks, camper vans, a cheese table to end all cheese tables, three b-e-a-utiful brides and a stray dog. Yeah, I said a stray dog. Whilst I suspect all three are going to be snapped up by the big boy blogs, I shall be doing my utmost to share all three wedding reports in full once the professional photos are ready. I’m a lucky wedding planner.
Oh yeah, and an anniversary…
A room with a view; tourists; the ridiculous bathroom; industrial chic at The Big Easy
Of course, in the midst of all this Paul and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary. It was the Sunday after my first wedding, and left to the very last minute (as I was just a tad busy and Paul isn’t chemically engineered to plan these sorts of things), I got ideas way above my station and booked a room at the Corinthia hotel in London. Whilst we live less than 20 miles from central London, our nights in the big city always end with McDonalds and the last train home. It was lovely to dump our bags and spend the afternoon doing the tourist thing, wandering through St James’ Park and down the Mall to Buckingham Palace. This was all to do with wanting to stretch our legs of course, and nothing to do with me not liking the first room we were given and having to kill an hour or so until our replacement room was ready… ahem. But what a replacement room it was! A view of the the London Eye rather than a dingy back street, more floor space and a palatial bathroom… even I surpassed myself with my negotiating skills.
The Corinthia really is an incredible luxury hotel, and whilst a room for one night cost nearly as much as a package holiday for one week, we both agreed it was worth it. The location is perfect (a few minutes walk from Charing Cross), the service flawless and the spa is the best and most decadent I have ever experienced (…even though Paul was witness to an unfortunate incident in the male changing room involving a naked man being completely rubbed dry by what we could only assume was his ‘man-servant’.) But we couldn’t stay in the hotel all night, so we eventually headed out to Covent Garden where I continued the decadence by deciding it was a Prosecco-only evening for me, and we gorged on lobster and mountains of meat at The Big Easy. It was the perfect celebration.
Of course, I had imagined writing at length about our first anniversary; perhaps a What Marriage Has Taught Me post, or a look back at the day itself. But is there really much to say after a year? Marriage hasn’t taught me anything yet (jeez, we’ve only just got started), but I can tell you that I like it. I guess I do feel a bit more secure- it is rather lovely to know that the man you love has vowed to look after you FOR EVER- but I think the overwhelming difference is that I feel so much older. I’m sure this has everything to do with turning 30 in less than a month, moving in to our ‘family home’ and purchasing a compost bin in recent weeks, but being a married woman is a definite factor in this too. Thankfully I don’t snigger every time I refer to ‘my husband’ anymore… but nor have I quite got used to my married name.
But enough about me, HOW ARE YOU?? Is anyone still there or has my ‘blogging sabbatical’ caused a mass desertion? I feel like doing a register, or a number call which was always my favorite. I’ll start…
1!
Sama xxx
