23/52 2018

Week 23
4 - 10 June



Daddy had just got home. Jamie scampered to the door to greet him and then lay on the doormat grinning at him.

21/52 2018

Week 21
21 - 27 May



Jamie is good at climbing and is steadily gaining confidence. He's also good at recognising and testing his limits - going a little bit higher, then checking he can get back down, then a little higher again. Meanwhile I am getting better at a kind of meditation where I tell myself to give him space, and that if he does fall he will most likely just bruise and learn, and if he does need to go to hospital at any point, social services do not swoop down with child protection orders for parentally supervised kids falling off council-maintained play equipment.

There is a second picture for this week, because it was our wedding anniversary:



I am so happy that we have kept up with the anniversary picture-within-picture thing. We have prints of the current year plus the original wedding picture stuck to our fridge.

35/52 2017

Week 35
28 August - 03 September



This isn't a great picture, but for me it captures what life with Jamie is like at the moment - happy and silly and affectionate, interested to know what you're doing, but a bit of a blur before he scampers off to the next thing he wants to investigate.

40/52

Nap time!



Steve took this picture and I love it, as it's something that happens fairly frequently (even if never quite as frequently as a mummy might wish) but something I never get to see.

Also, it features our two best blankets. My grey one was a gift Steve gave me when we first started seeing each other. And Jamie's rainbow blanket was hand-knit especially for him by his honourary auntie Clare, given to him at the hospital on his first day, and wrapping us both up in love while we got used to being two people. I'm so pleased that the weather is once again cool enough for blanket-snuggling.

21/52

Slightly late again, this time for reasons of choosing and cropping the favourite photo from a shoot which only took place on Saturday. Because Saturday was our fifth wedding anniversary, and one of the things we do on our anniversary is take a picture of ourselves holding the previous year's picture, which shows the picture from the year before that, and so on, all the way back to our wedding photograph.



This is Jamie's second year in the photograph; last year of course he was present in bump form, and then Steve printed out one of our scan pictures to "actual size" on an iron-on t-shirt transfer.

We wondered whether to have Jamie in the anniversary pictures as we're quite sure that, over the years, we will have anniversaries where he isn't present - perhaps with a babysitter, perhaps being a grumpy teenager who refuses to participate because he thinks his soppy parents are sooooo embarrassing, perhaps at university, or away with friends on holiday, or any number of other possibilities. All that is fair enough, time passes and things change. Right now, though, Jamie is at the absolute centre of our lives and our relationship, so to create an image featuring both of us and not him... it wouldn't be real.

6/52

For me, this week's picture perfectly encapsulates what Jamie is like at 3 - 4 months. Awake, alert, content, thumb in mouth, eyes wide open, and just a glint of amusement. I still can't say that he looks like Steve or that he looks like me, but I love that he looks like himself, like Jamie, a little person and a personality all of his own.

3/52

This week's photo is of Jamie having a cuddle with his daddy.



In the mornings, the Jamie-shaped alarm clock wakes up and has his overnight nappy changed, followed by First Breakfast (of breastmilk). Then there's a lovely sleepy interlude during which a much more comfortable Jamie chases the last of his zzzs, while mummy and daddy see about a slightly more adult First Breakfast (of tea/coffee, biscuits and ibuprofen). This photo was taken during that time.

I like this photo because despite both of them being really quite sleepy, neither of them are fully asleep and Jamie is genuinely cuddling Steve - in fact he was stroking him. I love that although I'm the stay-at-home parent, the two of them have a bond like that and that I get to watch it.

2/52

This week's photo is of Jamie in his crib by our bedside.



When we brought him home from the hospital, he looked absolutely tiny in here. With his feet at the foot of the crib as per the safer sleeping guidelines, his head barely reached the centre of the mattress! Now, at almost three months old, it seems to fit a lot better.

It makes me feel conscious of the fact that the crib is in fact a six-month rental, by which time he should have outgrown it, and we're halfway through that period already.

He has a bigger cot in the nursery, that should serve for the next couple of years as it converts to a toddler bed. Our plan for the transition is that Monkey and Ewan the Dream Sheep (pictured) will come with him to the nursery. But for now, this is basically what I see by my bedside every morning and evening.

Introducing Jamie

As planned, the bump was delivered to babyhood in mid-October. Internet, meet Jamie.



Born weighing 7lbs, he's healthy and happy. And perfect. Of course he's perfect. He has perfect ears and perfect long little toes and perfect enormous blue eyes. I want to write paragraphs and paragraphs about how brilliant he is in every way, and of course I don't have time, because he's a newborn, and I'm breastfeeding, and there's any number of friends and relatives to wrangle, and Steve's back at work, and babies make a lot of laundry... and honestly because for the last few weeks, if you gave me a choice between writing a blog post about my tiny baby Jamie, or actually cuddling him or playing with him or doing things he needs me to do, well, it's a no-brainer.



There's difficult times as well. Like when he decides to wake up and demand feeding NOW NOW NOW in the same minute as I've got my dinner on the table. Like when he projectile vomits all over the place at 3am. Like when I haven't felt able to take my pain relief because it makes me too drowsy to take care of him properly and I'm not managing to fully let go and trust anyone else to be the Awake Responsible Adult who will make sure I don't nod off mid-feed and suffocate him (particular fear, there).

But these are vastly outweighed by the good bits. In some ways, even the difficult bits are good. One of our friends watched me calmly dealing with an incident involving a variety of bodily fluids and observed that he'd rarely seen me so happy. I am happy. I'm happy because I know I'm good with babies, I'm confident about what I'm doing, I'm well supported by Steve and by my friends, and everything is going well.


What else to tell you...

The birth was by planned caesarean, which went well. We cannot praise the NHS staff enough - from the first booking appointment with the midwife at 10 weeks pregnant, to the theatre team, to the still ongoing postnatal care from the Health Visitor, everyone we've dealt with was professional and supportive. A particular mention has to go to everyone at Swan Ward at Warwick Hospital, from the lady with the tea trolley to the ward manager, they were compassionate and friendly and helpful. We thanked them all profusely and heard in response a lot of variations on a theme of "well, that's my job..." no. There's ways and ways of doing your job. Steve and I feel like we got absolute gold standard care, and never doubted that the three of us were safe.



Lovely though everyone was at the hospital, it was still a hospital so I was very glad to be discharged just 50 hours after surgery. Steve had a full two weeks of paternity leave, which we definitely needed. We went out several times, and since he's gone back to work, Jamie and I have continued to go out with PA support. Every time we leave the house Jamie seems to make new friends - in supermarkets, in cafes, in the library, in the park, always there are strangers marvelling at him. It's making me feel better to be out and about after so much of my pregnancy was spent confined to base.



The PA support is working out well. The golden rule is that the PAs Must Not Do Childcare. They must not, to give a specific example, change a nappy. But they can and do lift the baby onto the change table; if I have a moment and need to stop mid-change they can hold onto him and make sure he doesn't roll off while I pull myself together; and at the end of a shift they go through my "replenish list" to make sure that there are enough nappies (and cotton wool and wipes and cream and a fresh outfit and a few other bits and bobs) in various strategic locations within my reach to see me through until Steve gets home or the next shift starts.

Every day, I feel glad we did this, pleased with how it is going so far, and hopeful about the future of our little family.

The Nursery

I don't want to give the impression that this pregnancy is all about doom, gloom and disappointment about disability-related problems. One of the most enjoyable things that we've done has been to prepare the nursery for the baby.

Six months ago, I wouldn't have even dreamed of calling it a nursery. It was a boxroom. Because a defining feature of the room was that since even before I moved into this house, it was full, and I mean full, wall to wall and floor to ceiling, of boxes. Occasionally Steve would have a brief flurry of activity to reduce the amount of Stuff in there - most notably, when we got three big Billy Bookcases for the living room and the boxes of books that had been hidden away for years finally got a more appropriate home - but every three steps forwards seemed to be followed by two steps back as we needed *somewhere* to put an unwanted gift, or a bag of clothes for the charity shop, or a broken Whatever that needed to be taken to the tip "at some point, but not right now, because they're closed/it's raining/we're busy/etc, let's just pop it in the boxroom for now so it's out of the way."

Even as late as June, in a discussion about nursery plans with other women who are due to have babies in October, I somewhat resignedly posted this:

If it helps, ours still looks like a boxroom half-full of junk. I’ve given up on “beautiful” and am prepared to settle for just being able to get the carpet cleaned before the baby is here.

But by early July we were able to get to the window and in mid-July, we bought paint. By the end of July, the walls were starting to look like this:



Steve did the big roller work, the magnolia and the blue. I did the clouds, freehand, using a sponge. It took quite a while to get them *all* done - obviously I could only do very short sessions and only while someone was able to help me on and off my table (a ladder is more traditional but would have been asking for trouble). But I was so happy with how it came out, and it meant a lot to me to have done them myself.

Painting complete, I was able to go ahead and order new blinds, and a new carpet too (plug goes here for Godiva Carpets, a local firm who provided excellent customer service, fast fuss-free fitting, and competitive pricing). A set of flatpack drawers was assembled, and is now filled with washed and folded vests, babygros, sheets, blankets, little hats, tiny mittens and other assortedness. The Big Cot has been assembled too, although at the moment the mattress is still in the wrapper and my hospital bag is sitting on top of it, because at first the baby will sleep in our room. And then to top it off, my mother found some monkey decals online.





It's unequivocally a nursery now. Steve and I both like going in there just for the reassurance of it, that it is a completed project that's ready for Offspring, one that doesn't have to be a second-rate panic solution cobbled together at the last moment. It feels good.

20 Weeks

My 20 week scan was a couple of weeks ago and everything was more or less exactly as it should be. Here's the picture:



The scan took quite a bit longer than the 12-week one, but it wasn't really a hardship gazing at the image of Offspring while a sonographer pointed out all the various organs that were positioned and working exactly as they should be. The baby was awake and wiggling at first, but seemed to fall asleep while the checks were being done on the head and face area, and then absolutely would not move to allow the sonographer to check the kidneys. In the end I was sent to the loo in the hope that it would wake the baby up enough to move just a little, which worked, but only just. That was a good thing too, though, as it enabled Steve to feel a certain amount of paternal pride that his child is taking after him.

The baby was measuring just a couple of days smaller than the exact average, but still well within the healthy/average range. From what we were told, the important bit is that a baby's growth is proportional all over, and a couple of days is neither here nor there.

Of course we're both completely besotted. Every hand or foot was without question the most wonderful hand or foot ever to have been seen, because sure, most babies probably have hands and feet, but no matter what their parents think, Steve and I know for a fact that these hands and feet are just cuter.

And here's the outside view at 20 weeks:



(I decided to ditch the leggings-and-vest combo for the photos. It made me too self-conscious and it's not like the internet really needs another exact sequence of matching bump pictures. It's also not like there are any other photos of me while I'm pregnant, so I'd rather that I'm happy with the ones that do exist.)

20 weeks marks the half-way point of pregnancy and we might have made a bigger deal of it if we hadn't spent the last few weeks grumbling along with a horrible cold, which was not only giving us bunged up noses and sore throats during the day, but also causing us to more or less continuously wake each other up throughout the night with coughing fits. It's better now, though, so I'm trying to think more about the end of this month, which will mark the point at which, should this baby try to appear early, it would be considered viable and have a chance of survival outside the womb.

First Anniversary

It seems hard to believe, but Evilstevie and I have been married for an entire year.

Truth be told, the year, while not tragic, has not been a terrific one either. His work schedule has involved a level of "out of hours" work rather higher than we had expected and this extra work tends to crop up at extremely short notice - we rarely know in the morning whether we will be having an evening meal together. His workload over the last twelve months has been so heavy that it was January before he was able to take time off work for our "honeymoon" and he is still accruing "time off in lieu of hours worked" faster than he is getting a chance to actually use it. For my part, chronic illness does not respond well to such chaotic routines, so my pain and energy levels are no longer as well controlled as they once were, which in turn means the carefully balanced dominoes of my overall health and ability to Do Things (work, socialise, eat properly, manage disability bureaucracy) have crashed. It's all a bit of a mess, really.

On the bright side, we're very much still hanging on to each other and making each others' worlds that little bit nicer. This is definitely a more positive outcome than the alternative, which would be each of us yelling at the other "this is all your fault!"

And on the even brighter still side, at the beginning of May, Evilstevie came home with the biggest grin I'd seen in a long time and proudly announced that he'd booked the week of our anniversary off work, and we both squeaked and hugged each other and began to make plans.

On the morning of our anniversary, we had a quick photo-session to try out an idea I'd picked up via Ravelry. This was to take a picture of the two of us holding a picture of the two of us from our wedding. We took several - this is one of my favourites, although you can click through to see the others:



Then next year we print off one of those pictures and do the same thing again... you get the idea.

Photos taken, we packed ourselves into the car and set off to use an outstanding wedding gift from some very generous friends - a night at a luxury B&B in Devon. The weather steadily improved as we drove south and by the time we arrived I was regretting my failure to pack sun-cream and sandals. Instead we got a chance to sit in the shade looking out at glorious countryside, with tea and knitting for me, and coffee and camera for Evilstevie. Dinner in a nearby pub/restaurant was delicious and falling asleep in a beautiful room under crisp, fresh sheets felt like the holiday had properly begun.

The following morning, after guiltily declining most of the humongous breakfast spread on offer in the B&B's dining room, we loaded back into the car to go to one of my favourite places on earth - the Eden Project.





We first visited the project in January, and if you GiftAid your entry fee then you can get a year's pass to return as often as you like (or at least, as often as you can, because I think I could go every week for a year and not get bored). A brief stop to share the joy with Twitter, and then we spent the morning trekking up and down the outdoor areas, the idea being that if it started to rain, then we could head for the indoor biomes. Of course it didn't rain at all, and by the time we'd decided to stop exploring outdoors and head for the Link, my shoulders were about ready to drop off. We had a break for a late lunch, but I felt that I wouldn't manage much more pushing and that I'd like to just go into the smaller Mediterranean Biome to relax, instead of trying to hike around the larger, steeper, hotter Rainforest Biome. Evilstevie agreed and we made our way across.

That was where we found "the Back-rub team" offering 15 minutes of reiki back massage for £10, which to my burning shoulders and floppy exhausted arms seemed like a wonderful idea.

It really was. I mean, I didn't leap up and dance my way around the citrus grove or anything, but after a bit more of a rest and stretch I was able to not only get around the Mediterranean Biome but in short bursts I managed the Rainforest as well.

That night we crashed out at an unremarkable Travelodge in Bodmin, with the idea being that in the morning we'd be able to head home or elsewhere as the fancy took us. I'm sure nobody will be surprised to hear that in the morning, despite being shattered, we went straight back to Eden - we didn't find the back-rub team but we caught the Storytelling and had a lovely lunch before reluctantly heading for home and a couple of days to recover.

Wedding: the Aftermath

There are certain patterns with ME/CFS, and one of the major ones has to do with the relationship between activity and fatigue. I follow the classic pattern:

• I do something active.


• I feel tired, often rather more tired than the activity warrants.


• I have a rest.


• I feel, not 100% better, but significantly improved.


• I carry on with my life.


• ... and then somewhere between 24 and 48 hours after the activity, a massive dose of absolute exhaustion coshes me over the head, all plans must be cancelled and I spend a lot of time in bed trying to recover.

The wedding was obviously an enormous active event. I had planned out a 72-hour food and medication schedule to give myself the best chance and this went amazingly well, but the fact remains that by Sunday morning, despite a full night's sleep, I had a major spoon deficit and the knowledge that it was about to get a lot worse.

First Breakfast was a slice of wedding cake (we'd asked for a couple of slices to be put in our room just in case we didn't get to eat much cake during the reception) and that gave me the kick start I needed to go and have a more traditional Second Breakfast of tea and toast with a few of the guests who had stayed at the hotel. The hotel staff helped us divvy up the leftover cake.

We'd hired an MPV to enable us to move lots of stuff around, but even so, Steve ended up having to go home on his own with the car full of gifts and our own equipment (like the TV and the Wii), empty it all out, and then come back to collect me, my chair, the dress, the suitcase and all the other bits and bobs remaining. By this point I was starting to struggle, but I was able to walk from the car to the house.

My husband (!) and I sat down to open our cards and gifts. We were completely overwhelmed - there were cards on every flat surface and still there were some we didn't have room for, all with the most lovely messages. We just about had the sense to log all the gifts against our guestlist so that we would have an easier time writing the thank-you notes.

That's about all I can really remember as at that point the extreme exhaustion kicked in. I know I did things, like visiting a friend who couldn't make it and eating obscene quantities of cake, but only on an academic level, I don't have any personal recollection of it. Apparently right up to Thursday I was telling people what a marvellous day I'd had "yesterday" at the wedding, and although I wrote a few posts online, they were all absolute surprises to me when I re-read them a few days later! Thankfully Steve had the full week off work, so we could really do everything at our own pace.

One month on and things that are done include:

• We've recovered back to "normal for us" levels of physical and mental energy, house-tidiness, eating and sleeping patterns, etc.


• We've installed our new Stuff in the appropriate places (mostly the kitchen), and taken the old Stuff and all the packaging to the recycling centre.


• I've mostly finished changing my name, although I still keep getting surprised by the odd little things that keep popping up with my old name and I still hesitate every time I introduce myself.


• We've paid off all of the bills, and given back everything that was hired or borrowed like the car and the cake stand, so there's a nice line drawn under it all - we don't owe anyone anything.


• We've had some of the photos back and have been able to print ourselves some copies to show people.


• We've given or posted all of the thank you notes.

We still need to take decent close-up photos of "stuff" like the dress, the flowers, the jewellery and so on... Steve's been promising to do this for a while so I think I'll just wait for the next dry sunny day and take some snaps of them in the garden with my point-and-shoot - everything looks good on a sunny, grassy background, right? We need to get digital copies of wedding photos from a few more guests, and then we can start putting together an album.

I also need to do another blogpost or two about some of our vendors who really were exceptionally good.

Wedding: the party

This is me and Evilstevie enjoying our first hours of married life:


After the ceremony described in my previous post, we bundled into a car with our Official Photographer (Steve's cousin) and went to a more scenic part of the venue to take some nice, couple-y photos. I'd recommend this to anybody. It allowed us to have some time to just cuddle each other and marvel at the fact that we were actually married, rather than having to dive straight in to a busy mishmash of family politics and being congratulated for a ceremony we were still getting our heads around.

This took maybe half an hour or so, and then we headed over for the reception. I had decided ahead of time that I would walk for the ceremony but use the chair for the reception, and I think this was a good idea. Our reception room was advertised as accommodating up to 160 people. Our guest list was about 80 and about 75 came. It did look a little bit sparsely populated - especially as the summery weather saw a lot of people hanging around the outdoor areas - but it also meant that I had plenty of room for manoeuvring the chair, that parents didn't have to worry about where to put buggies, that strangers weren't sitting more or less on top of each other - all of which are good things. If I was doing it again, which I don't intend to do, and if I had a free choice of room sizes that met my other requirements, then I'd probably go for something nearer the "seats 120" capacity for an 80-person guest list.

The reception was going well when we arrived. Rather than a disco drowning out all hope of civilised conversation, we'd opted for quiet chill-out jazz and this worked really well.

We'd invited all the kids (mostly little boys between 2 and 10) to come dressed as pirates. The idea was that this way their parents wouldn't have to fork out for uncomfortable suits that would be ripped and outgrown within minutes. We'd hired a bouncy castle shaped like a pirate ship, complete with giant purple octopus overhanging the prow.

We also had heaps of chocolate coins/pirate treasure on every table, in lieu of favours...

... and our cake table had several chocolate pirates on the beach, alongside their enormous treasure chest.


We did have our Wii set up in one corner to entertain the kids in case of bad weather, or if the bouncy castle was too full. It was set to just scroll through a slideshow in the meanwhile. None of the kids even noticed it.

Lunch was an assortment of sandwiches, and scones with cream and jam. The venue caterers served these in large dishes to each table, a happy medium between the awkwardness of a buffet and the unwanted formality of a plated meal and seating plan. Obviously at this point Steve and I were both making our way around the tables, with the tragic result that I had to eat two scones. Just to be polite, obviously.

You can't put helium balloons and engineers in a room together without there being an effort to get something floating. At our wedding, this was one of the pirate ship table decorations...

... shortly followed by the Stunt Bride And Groom.


We only had one Stunt Bride and Groom which we really didn't want to lose, but we had plenty of table decorations. With this in mind, when a certain young lady begged for permission to take the floating pirate ship out and launch it... well obviously it's irresponsible and we couldn't endorse it, but we felt equally unable to say no. And it did look beautiful drifting off into the dusk.


Technically the bouncy castle was for children only, although at one point Evilstevie and I did, erm, pose on it for wedding portraits that may have had a slight bouncing element.

By the evening some people had left and others had changed into more comfortable, less formal clothes. At Jiva's suggestion, I too had a less formal outfit of black trousers and a white top to get changed into for the evening. This was another one of the Really Good Ideas. My dress wasn't uncomfortable to wear or difficult to manage as wedding dresses go, but it was more effort than my normal clothes and I was starting to get really quite tired. Also, dinner was bangers and mash with vegetables and gravy. Getting changed was definitely a good way forwards.

The bangers and mash had another effect we hadn't predicted. All those little pirates, who'd spent the day hopped up on sugar enjoying sunshine, a big grassy area to play on, and an unlimited-access bouncy castle, suddenly had bellies full of a nice solid hot dinner, and very nearly fell asleep on the spot. It was magic.

The last guests left a little while after 9pm. By that point I wasn't making sense any more, but I was very happy and had enjoyed the most wonderful day.

Wedding Ceremony

Evilstevie and I were married at noon on Saturday, 21 May, 2011.

The day was everything we wanted it to be. Our friends and families all made a big effort to ensure that the day was as relaxed and happy as it could possibly be.

I don't have any pictures yet. There are about 700 pictures on Evilstevie's camera but we haven't had a chance to go through them! The lovely Carie has put up a few of her shots which can be seen on her blogpost here (I'm afraid I can't link them as images).

What we do have, though, is the text of our vows. Evilstevie had gone to a lot of trouble setting up our home server to tweet the vows at the appropriate time (much like he did for the engagement proposal). Unfortunately, this was thwarted by our plan of having our Wii set up at the reception - on the morning of the wedding, in the hurry of extracting the TV, Wii, and associated cables from the heap of tech in the corner of our lounge, the cable connecting the server to the internet got dislodged, and although the script fired as planned, it had nowhere to fire to.

So, for internet friends, here are our wedding vows, and the reading a friend did afterwards. If you want the music as well, here's a YouTube link for my entrance music - Reunion by John Williams, from the AI: Artificial Intelligence soundtrack.

Evilstevie: I give you this ring as a sign of our marriage and a symbol of our love. I will always be there for you, to comfort and support you, and share in the joy and happiness of our love.
Cherish my faithfulness, my loyalty, and my trust, they are yours forever.

Mary: I give you this ring as a sign of our marriage and a symbol of our love. As we face the future together, I promise to be a companion worthy of your friendship. I promise to support your hopes, dreams, and goals. I vow to be there for you always.
When you fall, I will catch you.
When you cry, I will comfort you.
When you laugh, I will share your joy.
On this day, together with our friends and families, we can cherish the memories of our individual pasts, and create new ones, as, through our union, we accomplish more than we could alone.

Reading: A Lovely Love Story by Edward Monckton

The fierce Dinosaur was trapped inside his cage of ice. Although it was cold he was happy in there. It was, after all, HIS cage.
Then along came the Lovely Other Dinosaur.
The Lovely Other Dinosaur melted the Dinosaur's cage with kind words and loving thoughts.

'I like this Dinosaur,' thought the Lovely Other Dinosaur. 'Although he is fierce he is also tender and he is funny. He is also quite clever though I will not tell him this for now.'
'I like this Lovely Other Dinosaur,' thought the Dinosaur. 'She is beautiful and she is different and she smells so nice. She is also a free spirit which is a quality I much admire in a dinosaur.'

'But he can be so distant and so peculiar at times,' thought the Lovely Other Dinosaur. 'He is also overly fond of Things. Are all Dinosaurs so overly fond of Things?'
'But her mind skips from here to there so quickly,' thought the Dinosaur. 'She is also uncommonly keen on Shopping. Are all Lovely Other Dinosaurs so uncommonly keen on Shopping?'

'I will forgive his peculiarity and his concern for Things,' thought the Lovely Other Dinosaur. 'For they are part of what makes him a richly charactered individual.'
'I will forgive her skipping mind and her fondness for Shopping,' thought the Dinosaur. 'For she fills our life with beautiful thought and wonderful surprises. Besides, I am not unkeen on shopping either.'

Now the Dinosaur and the Lovely Other Dinosaur are old. Look at them.
Together they stand on the hill telling each other stories and feeling the warmth of the sun on their backs.
And that, my friends, is how it is with love. Let us all be Dinosaurs and Lovely Other Dinosaurs together.
For the sun is warm. And the world is a beautiful place.

Guestbook

The wedding looms ever closer. The craft-project chaos of my lounge is gradually turning into stacks of boxes with neat little contents-lists stuck to them, Evilstevie has confirmed his time off work, and really, everything's on track.

I keep telling myself, and anyone who has a tizzy at me, that the venue is booked and paid for, the registrar is booked and paid for, and we have the rings - therefore a wedding will take place. Everything else is fluff.

But fluff is fun, and today's fluff is the guestbook.

The guestbook isn't really a book. We're doing it in the form of lots of luggage labels, which our guests can write on or otherwise decorate as they see fit, and pin to a line at the reception.

I'd quite like to pre-populate the line, to get the ball rolling. So here's my idea. If any blog readers who aren't coming to the wedding would like to add a message to our wedding guestbook, then pop it in the comments, or email me, and I will be able to print it out and stick it to a label.

I know to new readers this may sound a bit "internet! validate me!" - no. If you don't feel you know us, or you've nothing to say, then there's no need to say anything. It just felt a little bit strange not to include the online side of our lives in our wedding day.

DWQ Part 7

Part 7 of the Discworld Wedding Quotes project. This is the final instalment. It would include The Amazing Maurice if I had been able to find anything in there, but I couldn't, so we are simply rounding off with a short and sweet selection from Nanny Ogg's Cookbook.

“They say that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, which just goes to show they're as confused about anatomy as they gen'rally are about everything else.”

“It is foresighted and useful for a young woman to become proficient in those arts which will keep a weak-willed man from straying. Learning to cook is also useful.”

“When I hear someone say that a husband cooks, I generally reckon it means he's got a recipe for something expensive and he does it twice a year. And then leaves the pans in the sink 'to soak'.”

On Courtship:
“It may come as a surprise that anyone needs any instructions about this, but even I was once a rather shy girl who had difficulty meeting young men. But it wore off by mid-morning when I realised what I was doing wrong.”

“We breed good men in Lancre, but I have to say sometimes they could do with a good ding around the lughole.”

“On long cold winter nights, when the young man may have come a long way, he is allowed to share a bed with the young lady, although both remain fully clothed and a bolster is put down the middle. However, since love traditionally laughs at locksmiths, it probably grins widely at a pillow full of feathers.”

"Lots of people have asked me for advice about this. They say, 'Mrs Ogg, can you just rely on there bein' a fight?' And, yes, you gen'rally can. My advice is to make sure the drink is strong enough and that people are seated right to make it happen quite soon. That way you've got it over with and can get on with things without that naggin' feelin' that something's wrong."



There we go. Thank you for reading, and I hope some brides and grooms to be find this series useful.

For me, the next step will be to shuffle these about in an Open Office Draw file, then print them out and try and do something pretty and papercrafty with them, so that they can be used as additional decorations.

Today is Valentine's Day. Steve and I have been engaged for a year and now have something less than 100 days to go until we tie the knot. We have the registrar, the venue, and the rings, so we definitely meet the basic criteria for a wedding - we even have the dress, the cake, and the full guest list complete with addresses. From here on in it should just be the frantic completion of dozens of DIY projects that seemed like a good idea when our Days Until count was still in three figures.

DWQ Part 6

Part 6 of the Discworld Wedding Quotes project. This covers the Tiffany Aching books: The Wee Free Men, A Hat Full Of Sky, Wintersmith, and I Shall Wear Midnight.


The Wee Free Men

“She'd never really liked the book. It seemed to her that it tried to tell her what to do and what to think. Don't stray from the path, don't open that door, but hate the wicked witch because she is wicked. Oh, and believe that shoe size is a good way of choosing a wife.”

“'We've scrubbed up quite nice, ye ken,' Rob Anybody said. 'Some o' the lads actually had a bath in the dewpond, e'en though 'tis only May, and Big Yan washed under his arms for the first time ever, and Daft Wullie has picked ye a bonny bunch of flowers...'”

Neither Rob nor Tiffany want to get married, but custom dictates that they must be betrothed, and that the bride must name the day...
“Tiffany took a deep breath. 'At the end of the world is a great big mountain of granite rock a mile high,' she said. 'And every year, a tiny bird flies all the way to the rock and wipes its beak on it. Well, when the little bird has worn the mountain down to the size of a grain of sand... that's the day I'll marry you, Rob Anybody Feegle!'
Rob Anybody's terror turned to outright panic, but then he hesitated and, very slowly, started to grin.
'Aye, guid idea,' he said slowly. 'It doesnae do tae rush these things.'
'Absolutely,' said Tiffany.
'And that'd gi' us time tae sort oout the guest list an a' that,' the pictsie went on.
'That's right.'
'Plus there's a' that business wi' the wedding dress and buckets o' flowers and a' that kind of stuff,' said Rob Anybody, looking more cheerful by the second. 'That sort o' thing can tak' for ever, ye ken.'”


A Hat Full of Sky

“He hadn't been a husband for very long, but upon marriage men get a whole lot of extra senses bolted into their brain, and one is there to tell a man that he's suddenly neck deep in real trouble.”

“If there's one thing a Feegle likes more than a party, it's a bigger party, and if there's anything better than a bigger party, it's a bigger party with someone else paying for the drink.”


Wintersmith

“'Aye, but the boy willnae be interested in marryin',' said Slightly Mad Angus.
'He might be, one day,' said Billy Bigchin, who'd made a hobby of watching humans. 'Most bigjob men get married.'
'They do?' said a Feegle, in astonishment.
“Oh, aye.'
'They want to get married?'
'A lot o' them do, aye,' said Billy.
'So there's nae more boozin', stealin' an' fighting?'
'Hey, ah'm still allowed some boozin' an' stealin' an' fightin'!' said Rob Anybody.
'Aye, Rob, but we cannae help noticin' ye also have tae do the Explainin', too,' said Daft Wullie.”

“She'd sometimes wondered if she'd get married one day, but she was definite that now was too soon for 'one day'.”

“'This lad Roland who is not your young man,' said Nanny, when Tiffany had paused for breath. 'Thinking of marrying him, are you?'
Don't lie, the Third Thoughts insisted.
'I... well, your mind comes up with all kinds of things when you're not paying attention, doesn't it?' said Tiffany. 'It's not like thinking.'”

The Nac Mac Feegles are debating Romance...
“'So it is like how babbies are made?' said Daft Wullie.
'No, 'cos even beasties know that but only people know aboot Romancin',' said Rob. 'When a bull coo meets a lady coo he disnae have tae say, “My heart goes bang-bang-bang when I see your wee face,” 'cos it's kinda built in tae their heads. People have it more difficult. Romancin' is verrae important, ye ken. Basically it's a way the boy can get close to the girl wi'oot her attackin' him and scratchin' his eyes oot.'”


I Shall Wear Midnight

“Rob Anybody put a finger to his lips. 'Ah, weel, it can be a wee bit difficult with womenfolk arguing, ye ken. Keep right oot of it, if ye'll tak' ma advice as a married man. Any man who interferes in the arguin' of women is gonnae find both of them jumping up and doon on him in a matter o' seconds.'”

“'There's a reason for all the superstitions. The time around weddings and funerals is fraught with stress for all concerned, except in the case of the funeral, for the chief, as it were, player.'”

“'I hear that the lads came back from their stag night fun,' said Nanny, 'but it seems to me they've forgotten where they left the groom. I don't think he is going to go anywhere, though. They are pretty certain they took his trousers down and tied him to something.' She coughed. 'That's generally the usual procedure. Technically the best man is supposed to remember where, but they found him and he can't remember his own name.'”

On the word “buxom”...
“'Yes,' said the bride-to-be. 'I'm afraid I'm not, very, um, large in that department.'
'That would have been a bit unfortunate a couple of hundred years ago because the wedding service in those days required a bride to be buxom towards her husband.'
'I'd have had to push a cushion down my bodice!'
'Not really; it used to mean kind, understanding and obedient,' said Tiffany.
'Oh, I can do those,' said Letitia. 'At least, the first two,' she added with a grin.”

“Weddings can be quite similar to funerals in that, apart from the main players, when it's all over, people are never quite sure what they should be doing next, which is why they see if there is any wine left.”

DWQ Part 5

Part 5 of the Discworld Wedding Quotes project. This covers books 28 - 32 of the series: Monstrous Regiment, Going Postal, Thud!, Making Money, and Unseen Academicals. It also includes the graphic novel The Last Hero and the OOK! Ankh-Morpork Librarians' Award - Children's Winner Where's My Cow?

Monstrous Regiment

“His wife's long illness and Paul's long absence had taken a lot out of her father. Polly was glad some of it was being put back. The old ladies who spent their days glowering from their windows might spy and peeve and mumble, but they had been doing that for too long. No one listened any more.”

“'Sorry, what was that?' said Polly.
'Going to find my husband,' said Shufti, only a little bit louder.
'Oh, dear. How long had you been married?' said Polly, without thinking.
'...not married yet...' said Shufti, in a voice as tall as an ant.
Polly glanced down at the plumpness of Shufti. Oh, dear.”

“'There's a kind of beetle where she bites his head off right while he's exercisin' his conjugals, and that's what I call serious grief. On the other hand, from what I heard he carries on regardless, so maybe it's not the same for beetles.'”


Going Postal

“Would you like to have dinner tonight?”
“I like to have dinner every night. With you? No. I have things to do. Thank you for asking.”


Thud!

“'Lady Sybil sighed. 'I think I shall have to have a word with Havelock about the hours he makes you keep,' she said. 'It's not doing you any good, you know.'
'It's the job, dear. Sorry.'
'It's just as well I got the cook to make up a flask of soup, then.'
'You did?'
'Of course. I know you, Sam.'”

“'And incidentally, tomato ketchup is not a vegetable,' Sybil added. 'Not even the dried stuff around the top of the bottle.'”

“Usually she got her own way and he was happy to give it to her, but the unspoken agreement was that when he really insisted, she listened.”

“Against all common sense, he agreed with Sybil. Home was where they were together.”

“”But it was a wife thing. She took such a... a pride in him. He could never work out why.”


Making Money

“'Do you have a young lady?' she asked, raising the glass.
'Yes.'
'Does she know what you're like?'
'Yes. I keep telling her.'
'Doesn't believe you, eh? Ah, such is the way of a woman in love,' sighed Mrs Lavish.
'I don't think it worries her, actually. She's not your average girl.'”

“Moist drummed his fingers on the desk. A year ago he'd asked Adora Belle Dearheart to be his wife, and she'd explained that in fact he was going to be her husband. It was going to be... well, it was going to be some time in the near future, when Mrs Dearheart finally lost patience with her daughter's busy schedule and arranged the wedding herself.”

“'I think my secretary is, uh, getting sweet on me. Well, I say secretary, she's sort of assumed that she is.'
Some fiancées would have burst into tears or shouted. Adora Belle burst out laughing.”

“'He acted as if he'd never seen a woman before!'
'He's just not used to things that don't come with a manual,' said Moist.
'Hah,' said Adora Belle. 'Why is it only men get like that?'
Earns a tiny wage working for golems, thought Moist. Puts up with graffiti and smashed windows because of golems. Camps out in wildernesses, argues with powerful men. All for golems. But he didn't say anything, because he'd read the manual.”

“'It Does Not Say Anything About Dusting Under The Floor In Lady Waggon's Book Of Household Management.'
'Gladys, a man may be dying under there!'
'I See. That Would Be Untidy.' The beams rattled under a blow. 'Lady Waggon Says That Any Bodies Found During A Week-End Party Should Be Disposed Of Discreetly, In Case Of Scandal.'”

“…the staff had realized what their ears had heard, and closed in on the couple, the women drawn to the soon-not-to-be-Miss Drapes by the legendarily high gravity of an engagement ring, while the men went from slapping Mr. Bent on the back to the unthinkable, which involved picking him up and carrying him around the room on their shoulders.”


Unseen Academicals

“'Writing a poem is often the way to the intended's heart,' said Nutt.
Trev brightened. 'Ah, I'm good with words. If I wrote 'er a letter, you could give it to 'er, right? If I write it on posh paper, something like, let's see... “I think you are really fit. How about a date? No hanky panky, I promise. Luv, Trev.” How does that sound?'
'The soul of it is pure and noble, Mister Trev. But, ah, if I could assist in some way...?'”

Nutt has written a poem for Trev to give to Juliet... “Broadly speaking, sir, it carries the message you have asked for, which is to say 'I think you're really fit. I really fancy you. Can we have a date? No hanky panky, I promise.' However, sir, since it is a love poem, I have taken the liberty of altering it slightly to carry the suggestion that if hanky or panky should appear to be welcomed by the young lady she will not find you wanting in either department.”

“'There is to be no sexual congress.'
This did not meet with the reaction he had expected.
'That means talking about it, doesn't it?' said the Chair of Indefinite Studies.
'No, that's oral sex,' said Rincewind.
'No, that's listening to it.'”


The Last Hero

“'How about Pamdar the Witch Queen?' said Evil Harry. 'Now there was--'
'Retired,' said Cohen.
'She'd never retire!'
'Got married,' Cohen insisted.
'But she was a devil woman!'
'We all get older, Harry. She runs a shop now. Pam's Pantry. Makes marmalade,' said Cohen.
'What? She used to queen it in a throne on top of a pile of skulls!'
'I didn't say it was very good marmalade.'”


Where's My Cow?

“Hooray, hooray, what a wonderful day, for I have found my cow!”

DWQ Part 4

Part 4 of the Discworld Wedding Quotes project. This covers books 22 - 27 of the series: The Last Continent, Carpe Jugulum, Fifth Elephant, The Truth, Thief of Time, and Night Watch.


The Last Continent

“'I don't think I'm related to any apes,' said the Senior Wrangler thoughtfully. 'I mean, I'd know, wouldn't I? I'd get invited to their weddings and so on. My parents would have said something like, “Don't worry about Uncle Charlie, he's supposed to smell like that,” wouldn't they?'”

“Wizards lack the HW chromosome in their genes. Feminist researchers have isolated this as the one which allows people to see the washing-up in the sinks before the life forms growing there have actually invented the wheel.”

“'So how exactly does it work, then?' said the Senior Wrangler. 'A female baboon sees a male baboon and says, “My word, that's a very colourful bottom and no mistake, let us engage in... nuptial activity”?'
'I must say I've often wondered about that sort of thing myself,' said the Lecturer in Recent Runes. 'Take frogs. Now, if I was a lady frog looking for a husband, I'd want to know about, well, size of legs, competence at catching flies-'
'Length of tongue,' said Ridcully. 'Dean, will you please take something for that cough?'”

“On these occasions when he had spent some time in the intimate company of a woman, it was generally when she was trying to either cut his head off or persuade him to a course of action that would probably get someone else to do it. When it came to women he was not, as it were, capable of much fine-tuning.”


Carpe Jugulum

“'It's amazing what a wife can do if she knows her own mind, or minds in your case, course. Look at King Verence the First, for one. He used to toss all his meat bones over his shoulder until he was married and the Queen made him leave them on the side of the plate. I'd only bin married to the first Mr Ogg for a month before he was getting out of the bath if he needed to pee. You can refine a husband.'”

Magrat is teasing Nanny Ogg that Igor has a crush on her...
“'I think he's a bit of a romantic, actually,' said Magrat.
'Oh, I don't know, I really don't,' said Nanny. 'I mean, it's flattering and everything, but I really don't think I could be goin' out with a man with a limp.'
'Limp what?'
Nanny Ogg had always considered herself unshockable, but there's no such thing. Shocks can come from unexpected directions.
'I am a married woman,' said Magrat, smiling at her expression. And it felt good, just once, to place a small tintack in the path of Nanny's carefree amble through life.”

Magrat is musing on married life...
“'But now I understand what your jokes were about.'
'What, all of them?' said Nanny, like someone who'd found all the aces removed from their favourite pack of cards.
'Well, not the one about the priest, the old woman and the rhinoceros.'
'I should just about hope so!' said Nanny. 'I didn't understand that one until I was forty!'”

More vampires...
“The Countess clutched his arm. 'Oh, this does so remind me of our honeymoon,' she said. 'Don't you remember those wonderful nights in Grjsknvij?'
'Oh, fresh morning of the world indeed,' said the Count solemnly.
'Such romance... and we met such lovely people, too. Do you remember Mr and Mrs Harker?'
'Very fondly. I recall they lasted nearly all week.'”


Fifth Elephant

“A marriage is made up of two people who are prepared to swear that only the other one snores.”

“Sam Vimes could parallel-process. Most husbands can. They learn to follow their own line of thought while at the same time listening to what their wives say. And the listening is important, because at any time they could be challenged and must be ready to quote the last sentence in full. A vital additional skill is being able to scan the dialogue for telltale phrases, such as 'and they can deliver it tomorrow' or 'so I've invited them for dinner' or 'they can do it in blue, really quite cheaply'.”

“She was proud of Sam. He worked hard for a lot of people. He cared about people who weren't important. He always had far more to cope with than was good for him. He was the most civilized man she'd ever met. Not a gentleman, thank goodness, but a gentle man.”

“'My husband is a little unwell at the moment,' said Serafine, in the special wife voice which Vimes recognised as meaning 'He thinks he's fine right now but just you wait until I get him alone.'”


The Truth

“'You're not going to kill anyone, are you?'
'Miss, we don't do that sort of thing!'
Sacharissa looked a little disappointed. She'd been a respectable young woman for some time. In certain people, that means there's a lot of dammed-up disreputability just waiting to burst out.”

“William had never seen anyone to whom the word 'harangued' could be so justifiably applied. It meant someone who'd been talked at by Sacharissa for twenty minutes.”


Thief of Time

“Wen considered the nature of time and understood that the universe is, instant by instant, re-created anew. Therefore, he understood, there is, in truth, no Past, only a memory of the Past. Blink your eyes, and the world you see next did not exist when you closed them. Therefore, he said, the only appropriate state of the mind is surprise. The only appropriate state of the heart is joy. The sky you see now, you have never seen before. The perfect moment is now. Be glad of it.”

“'We're having rabbit,' Mrs War said. 'I'm sure I can make it stretch to three.'
War's big red face wrinkled. 'Do I like rabbit?'
'Yes, dear.'
'I thought I liked beef.'
'No, dear. Beef gives you wind.'
'Oh.' War sighed. 'Any chance of onions?'
'You don't like onions, dear.'
'I don't?'
'Because of your stomach, dear.'
'Oh.'
War smiled awkwardly at Death. 'It's rabbit,' he said.
Despite himself, Death was fascinated. He had never come across the idea of keeping your memory inside someone else's head.”

“According to the food standards of the great chocolate centres in Borogravia and Quirm, Ankh-Morpork chocolate was formally classed as 'cheese' and only escaped, through being the wrong colour, being defined as 'tile grout'.”

“Against one perfect moment, the centuries beat in vain.”


Night Watch

“'Oh dear.' The lady gave him a smile. 'You are incorruptible?'
Oh dear, here we go again, thought Vimes. Why did I wait until I was married to become strangely attractive to powerful women? Why didn't it happen to me when I was sixteen? I could have done with it then.
He tried to glare, but that probably only made it worse.”

“'You don't have to ask him, Rutherford, it's his duty to protect us,' snapped the woman who was standing beside the man with an air of proprietorship. Vimes changed his mind about the man. Yes, he had that furtive look of a timid domestic poisoner about him, the kind of man who would be appalled at the idea of divorce but would plot womanslaughter every day. And you could see why.”

“Lord Albert Selachii didn't much like parties. There was too much politics.”

“'Ah, you must be the lady from Genua,' he said, taking her hand. 'I have heard so much about you.'
'Anything good?' said Madam.
His lordship glanced across the room. His wife appeared to be deep in conversation. He knew to his cost that her wifely radar could fry an egg half a mile away. But the champagne had been good.
'Mostly expensive,' he said.”