Ooooh, ahhhhh

Techinical ineptitude over - here is picture of our very first wedding present - messages of appreciation please!

Musings...

....why when I've already had the norovirus this year do I deserve a cold - especially given the fact I've been on a health kick for months - surely my immune system should be top notch?

...why does it seem impossible to reduce our wedding budget - there must be a way to save pennies somewhere? Perhaps we should just cancel it all, elope and bank the thousands that we'll save? Would anyone mind and would I regret it in the long term?

...does anyone else experience sherbert dip cravings at 11.15 on a Friday morning? (Sherbert dip + cough = highly probable death by asphyxiation - surely?)

...Isn't it rather lovely finishing work at 5pm in the daylight and being able to hear the birds singing all of a sudden?

...Will Mr Jones like the newly covered sofa?

Our First Wedding Present

Mr Jones and I received our first wedding present this week! It's very exciting. Mr and Mrs Allsop came to visit at the weekend. They are very selfishly moving to Orange County, CA come the spring and seem to think that they'll be far too busy on the beach to jet back for our wedding. (tisk!)

But they made up for it by bringing us a beautiful set of antique fish servers as an early wedding present. A picture will follow, but I'm currently being inept with the camera and the technical whizz of the house is off in Kent again. When I post it you can all oooh and ahhh at the lovely engraved silver and the pretty carved bone handles. They even have a box don't you know.

We're very chuffed. I shall have to have an elegant luncheon come the warmer weather and serve delicately poached salmon with my antique fish servers onto a bed of lightly dressed salad leaves. For dessert we'll have strawberries and cream with Kir Royales on the side. Do let me know if you'd like to come. Unfortunately the Mother-in-Law won't be able to attend - she and salmon don't agree with each other. xoxo

Bye bye takeaways

Mr Jones and I aren't at all religious - hence the humanist ceremony and hymn less service. But we like to pick and choose religious festivals when they suit, like most heathens really.

Yesterday Shrove Tuesday became Shrove Sunday because Mr Jones is back off to Kent on Tuesday and didn't want to miss out on the pancakes. And, because we had another look at the wedding budget and suddenly started to feel rather ill, we've decided to give up takeaways and eating out for Lent. And if we survive this most harsh of deprivations we may even extend the sacrifice until the wedding.

We're hoping that the ensuing torture will render our wallets fat and our waistlines slim - but wish us luck - denial, especially of the edible variety - does not come natural to either of us.

What's in a name

What's in a name? That which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet

Romeo and Juliet (II, ii, 1-2)

Shakespeare and Mr Jones differ somewhat on names (though only if you take Shakespeare out of context and forget the preceding text). Mr Jones is surprisingly traditional when it comes to names – and mine in particular. He is firmly of the – “the wife should take the husbands name” school of thought.

I, on the other hand, am rather attached to my maiden name and would like to keep it. I’m more than happy to meet half way and double barrel it – but according to Mr Jones that would involve signing our children up for regular playground beatings for being too posh. Honestly!

Unlike Juliet I don’t really fancy denying my father or refusing my name – and Mr Jones certainly can’t be convinced to doff his, even if I do promise to give him all of myself. At least Juliet was swapping Capulet for Montague - even she would have been slightly less enthusiastic if she was turning herself into a Jones. There are literally millions and millions of them – oh the obscurity.

But the argument has arisen many a time, and I have been informed on each occasion that it’s a deal breaker – it’s Mrs Jones or a spinster’s cottage and a menagerie of cats. So Mrs Jones it will be (apart from at work – where I have managed to convince him that it would be career suicide to change my name now – phew!)

What do you think of these?

I can't decide if they are perhaps too gold?

A letter....

Today I have received the most lovely letter - handwritten, in ink, on headed note paper, and it's made my day.

It's from a very kind gentleman who used to deliver my organic veg box to the old house. (Now I'm in Stamford I join the yummy mummies, toffs in Barbours and other Bodens at the Farmers market every other friday to buy my veg instead.) He was writing to thank me for the homemade ginger fudge I sent him at Christmas.

Today was looking like a bad day - but now I couldn't be more touched. Bring back pen and ink I say. x

Bye bye Miss S

Apparently, according to Radio 4, come 21st August I should kiss goodbye to my identity. Once my Dad passes my hand to Mr Jones I will become his possession and will be forced to endure domestic drudgery, baby making and other such pleasures endured by a 50s housewife. Marriage is, according to the authorities at the Beeb a kiss of death to feminism and has no meaning in the modern world. It's in decline and therefore out-of-date.....

There was a rant here about how I could be feminist and a wife at the same time (and I still believe I can) and that marriage is more than just ownership - however on further reflection I have decided not to give Radio 4 the satisfaction of knowing that they riled me and sentenced said rant to obscurity. Sorry if you missed its short foray in this world.

All I shall say in its place is that I'm very much looking forward to being a thoroughly modern wife who is perfectly capable of combining a career with picking up after her husband. As long as, that is, he can combine a career with indulging my Boden habit while I bear his children!

Abandoned

Mr Jones has abandoned me - don't panic - it's just for the week. He has gone off to the wilds of Kent to work. This news was met with mixed emotions. On one hand we'll miss the cuddles after long, hard days. On the other, we will enjoy a week that doesn't involve constantly picking up after him, listening to him snore and having to watch that abominable Vicki Butler Henderson woman on Fifth Gear re-runs. Richard Hammond she is not!

And when he returns on Friday having missed me lots, his arms filled with a gorgeous bouquet of flowers and a bottle of Montana ready to whisper sweet nothings into my ears - I will wake up, wipe a little dribble off my chin, smooth my dishevelled hair and realise that I've just been woken up from a rather marvellous dream by Mr Jones dropping his suitcase, shoes, coat, screwdriver, drill, and unopened post in a trail from the front door to the kitchen. But that's just one of the many reasons why I love him so much.

Jewels

Today the mogs and I have been looking at wedding jewellery (and working) - we quite like these - available online here - what say you?

I'm in the wrong trade....

....clearly! This week I have been in conversation with a very nice gentleman regarding entertainment for the wedding. I have a very tragic desire for a certain song to be played on a saxophone as I walk up the aisle. Saxophonists are clearly a breed with hermit like tendancies, because finding one is proving just a touch tricky.

Anyway - this week I lucked upon a possible source of saxophonists only to find that the one in question wants £800 - that's £800 to come to my wedding and play ONE song!! Good God!

I am adding him to my list of wedding ridiculousness which currently features:
The catering company who wanted £10K for a BBQ
The vintage crockery hire place who think borrowing their plates for the day merits £1,600,
and Belvoir Castle who wanted £15K just for the privilege of holding the wedding in their grounds - that does not include anything else - no food, no marquee, nothing - that's how much they charge for you to set foot in their castle in your bridal best.

Shocking!

The weetabix diet

In my line of work I come across many a crash diet - and I've always been very scathing of them all. That is until I worked out that I have just six, tiny little months to become slim and lovely for my wedding.

Mrs B-S looked marvelous on her wedding day and attributes her slim frame to a diet of weetabix and fruit for breakfast, a salad or sandwich for lunch and another round of weetabix for dinner. Now as a rule I hate breakfast and all things breakfast related. I never eat cereal and can only managed toast after being awake for three hours or so. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

So yesterday I bought weetabix and this morning I adorned one with a yogurt and some fruit. I enjoyed the first few flakey, crispy wheaty mouthfuls, until, all of a sudden my teeth were covered in a wheat based cement. Every bite became a chore to swallow and my throat started to revolt. I managed to get through the bowl and spent the first 2 hours of my day feeling like I had a concrete block sat in my stomach.

Then the volcanic churning started and my sensitive little insides were in uproar. I am now sporting a distended stomach that looks like it should belong to someone expecting the imminent arrival of a small child. I've also been starving since about 10.30am.

So - the weetabix diet is a no go for me. I shall have to find another way of reducing my arm and belly fat by August. If anyone would like to offer a home to the 11 remaining weetabix (or should that be weetabricks?) in the packet feel free to come and collect them.

Your bloated friend Mrs Jones-to-be

Suits you sir!

I forgot to say - yesterday Mr Jones and I went to try on suits for the wedding. Well Mr Jones tried them on and I just sat in a rather comfy chair.

I would like it noted that I am not afraid to admit that I was wrong. Mr Jones looked incredibly handsome in a dark grey tail suit, and utterly ridiculous (imagine an undertaker wearing his dad's overcoat) in the Prince Edward Jacket. The jury is still out however on the top hat! But I supposed Mr Jones has to have some creative input in this wedding.

I'd also like to take this moment to apologise to my Daddy - who I am sure will not greet the "top hat and tails" news with much excitement. Daddy - I'm sure you'll look just as handsome in the tails and would have looked just as odd in the Prince Edward.

Kir Royale and rather a lot of wine

Last night Mr and Mrs Birkett-Smith came to stay. Some how we managed to drink three bottles of champagne and two bottles of wine. We feasted on Mr Oliver's slow cooked pork - which turned out to be rather delicious even if I do say so myself. Surprisingly none of us suffered for our gluttony this morning. Though I suppose if you've consumed half a pig the alcohol gets pretty much absorbed.

A good time was had by all - although we were rather shocked at Mrs B-S's revelation that she's rather partial to Gary Barlow! She assures me that he's now rather toned and not at all dumpy - but I have to say that as much as I love Take That - and I do - I have to close my eyes whenever Gary appears on screen. You see he reminds me very much of a rather irritating ex-boyfriend. If anyone else would like to declare their undying love for Mr Barlow - do feel free - just not in my presence.

Things I am pondering today....

*Why is snow so distracting? I've done nothing but procrastinate and stare out of the window for two days now - it's not good for business!

*Why does snow make you hungry? Yes - walking anywhere is 20 times harder but that doesn't account for an appetite that has increased 300 fold.

*Where can I find a good saxophonist for the wedding? If you know anyone who plays the saxophone please let me know.

*Will the fabric I ordered from ebay ever turn up? Apparently it was sent to the wrong person in a blonde moment - hmmmm!

*Do cats feel guilty when the play in the downstairs loo/wine cellar, break a bottle of cheap rose wine and drench your beloved cowboy boots? (I think not - I just end up feeling guilty for shouting at her and kicking her out into the snow)

Answers on a postcard please

xoxo

Walking in a winter wonderland

Today is a snow day. Mr Jones and I decided that digging the car out of the street to sit in traffic for several hours trying to get to work really wasn't worth it. So at 7am we bundled up and hit the streets for a snow ball fight.





Stamford in the snow is rather beautiful, we're sure you'll agree. The roads were practically impassable so we wondered around town with lots of other people in eerie quiet - it was actually rather lovely.

After a lovely sausage bap in an invitingly warm cafe (snow = calorie free food don't you know!), my self and Miss Jones (Mr Jones' younger sister), conscientious as we are, headed home to do some work. Leaving Mr Jones and some other mis-fits to create this.....

Now we're both tucked up in the house, by the fire doing some work - before we head out again - no doubt to make the most of the lovely snow.

Time for tea....

As you may or may not know, our wedding has a vintage theme. We did think about hiring some lovely vintage china - Mummy and I emailed a few companies, eagerly awaited their replies and then decided that the route to a millionaires lifestyle is clearly through vintage crockery rental.

So now we've become Charity Shop fiends. I have to say Mummy is rather good at it and now has a spare bedroom stacked with cake stands, tea cups and sugar bowls. I am slightly less proficient, but none the less managed to acquire these beauties at the weekend. The lady in the charity shop was rather confused when I took two tea sets to till:

"You want them both?"

"Yes please"

"Really....what on earth for?"

"My wedding"

(Gushing begins) "Oh how lovely, oh how wonderful - Margaret, Margaret, (bellowed a la Little Britain) bring a box, this young lady is buying us out of tea sets for her wedding - oh it's so lovely..."

The other customers all started to scowl as my many plates and cups were wrapped lovingly in paper. Anyone would think I'd done them out of a bargain. I don't know what they were complainging about. The lady in the queue behind me was clearly treating her husband to a pair of second hand trousers with a few suspicious looking marks on them and was in no need of anything to eat cake off of.

I was planning to use my new tea sets at the lovely tea party I held yesterday afternoon - but after battling round Morrisons (please hurry up with the new Waitrose and Sainsburys to spare me this horror) with the rest of the town, I only just had time to make enough cakes - so we had to make do with Emma Bridgewater Spots. Still a jolly time was had by all and I plan to have another girly afternoon once the garden is done and there isn't snow in the air - perhaps at Pimms O'Clock.

XOXO