Wedding fever....

Right, I may as well warn you. With this blog, you get me. My life. As it is, good and bad. (Sorry about the bad bits, but there you go.) That's life. And death, actually, has played quite a part. Not my choice, it just happened. To lose one parent, unfortunate, but two? Downright careless...

And there has been other stuff, more funny stuff, which I know my blog readers prefer, and I do my best, really I do to oblige...so many people I meet up with say: have you fallen out of any good trucks lately etc etc....(last March if you want to read it.....)

Anyway, as I was saying, I may as well warn you that, as Laa is now heavily into planning her wedding for next year, there will be quite a lot of wedding talk on my blog.

We have already had a private appointment at 'The Bride' in St Albans, where they unlock the door to let you in and Amanda, or Lucy is your private consultant for the next hour and a half while they bring you in wedding gowns to try on in your own dressing room. Laura and I turned up and were shown up a small stair case, where 'mum' was given a seat in the corridor outside the dressing room, while Laura and Amanda/Lucy went in and shut the door. So wrong on two counts..one, I do not want to go through the next six months being smiled at patronisingly and called 'mum' and two, if I playing for the bloody dress and helping my daughter choose it, I want to be in the room, not outside. Call me troublesome....

So after a couple of dresses had been shown to me through a crack in the door, and Amanda/Lucy had gone to fetch another gown, I knocked on the door (which only opened from the inside to keep 'mum' out) and Laa let me in. When Lucy/Amanda returned I was installed on a chair in the corner, quiet as a mouse. (!)

Laa tried on a series of hand made, silk designer gowns, gorgeous creations with boned bodices and wonderful frocks...mostly ivory in colour, sleek and sophisticated, not at all meringue like..she looked stunning in all of them...the model dresses fitted her like the proverbial glove, and I looked at my daughter clad in a handmade silk dress costing (I discovered later when I coughed politely and asked) £2,000, looking amazing, tall, slim, young, beautiful, and I thought, 'F*ck me, what am I going to wear, and can I lose four stone by May?'