wedding album

They say spend money on a good wedding photographer. We're sure glad we did.

In need of some Light-Heartedness...

Last weekend I had some of my friends over at our place for wedding gifts. I told them rather than having to cart pressies up the mountain only to have to cart them back down again, I would organised a gift weekend after the wedding. Unfortunately Rod was still enroute to Ho Chi Min City from Phnom Penh a the time so he wasn't there but he kept texting me his progress for the day which was comforting.

Rod sms - "boarded bus to hcmc. latest movies on bus, Charlie Chaplin" ( I wanted to text back: - original or the one with Robert Downey Jr.?)

We got 2 wild native orchids, a funny designer pasta scooper and pizza cutter and a wall clock but the gift I was most looking forward too was an electric kettle. A dear friend who always pops over for tea couldn't put up with my old broken electric kettle anymore. Even brand new out of the box, the hold down button on the kettle just wouldn't stay on boil so for two years I had the ingenius method of using a really tight elastic band to hold down the switch which worked a treat but of course you had to manually release it when the kettle was boiling. It was quite inconvenient but the kettle was always a conversation peice at parties. So when she told me she wanted to get me a new working kettle, there was no persuading her otherwise even though I had grown attached to my broken one. I told her I liked the look of the new Sunbeam ceramic kettle. She promptly went and bought me one and even called me from the store while she was paying for it. So you can imagine my surprise while I'm unwrapping her present. Surprise!!!...no surprises. She even bought the right colour.

But the true test is wheter it works? We set off boiling water immediately. The button holds downs (phew!) and then what seemed like an eternity watching water boil, the switch finally switches off automatically and you should have heard the cheers and Hurrahs!! going off in the house..all because an electric kettle worked. What a triumph! What joy!!! and as for the old kettle? I thought it would be symbolic if all my friends formed a guard of honour from the kitchen down the hallway with the last one holding the door open while I ran with my old broken kettle, arms rotating like a discus thrower (the theme from 'Chariots of Fire' playing ) and hurled that old broken peice of crap out the door, accoss the road and probably straight into the window of my neighbours. Like the saying goes ' People in houses shouldn't throw broken kettles....hmmmm, okay, I made that one up but its got a nice ring to it. At the very least I thought, we should have a ceremonial burning of the elastic band.

Rod sms - reached hcmc
Ivy sms - everybody says "Yay!"

You Stupid, Stupid Girl!

For the last week since Rod got stranded in Bangkok and then the horrible news about the attacks in Mumbai, I've been having the most morbid thoughts. Everytime the phone rang, I would seize up in fear that the person on the other line was going to be some officail and I would hear the dreaded words:-

"Maam I'm afraid to tell you that your husband is dead"

and then I wouldn't stop screaming..... but it wasn't my husband that died, it was Paulette's and I can see Paulette screaming.

I've been projecting Paulette's grief as if it were my own because I imagined the worst for myself before I heard the news and how I would react if I lost Rod suddenly. How I'd stare numbly at the door thinking he'd walk in any moment like nothing happened. I imagine identifying his cold lifeless body and thinking that's not my husband! He was warm and alive and smiling at me just yesterday! How I couldn't bear to be in our house with all his things lying around just waiting for him, that half finished book on the night stand, his unopened Christmas presents I bought weeks ago. All his folded shirts in the cupboard, his beloved car in the garage. I'd lie in bed at night and stare at the empty spot next to me and then I'd think about Paulette lying in an empty bed and I start to tear up but I imagine Paulete is crying even harder and I can hear that horrible sorrowful wail of anguish that goes on and on and on....

All week long while Rod was in limbo trying to get across 3 countries in order to meet his business requirements and then fly home safely. We joked over the phone about what a disasterous week we've had. I even thought it was a bad omen, a mistake we got married, even the weather was trying to tell us something, worst wind storm in 10 years w were told. By comparison we've had it easy. We're both so lucky because nothing really bad has happened yet and then I had an even more terrible thought. I thought about the odds that two guys working in the same company couldn't die in the same week. Things don't work like that. Like two major plane crashes on the same day or lighting striking twice in the same place and that Paul died so that Rod could live. What a terrible selfish person I am.

I've been dreading to get our wedding photos back because I think we will see lots of pictures of Paul. We had intended to include a picture of us with our guest along with a thank you note. I don't know if seeing a picture of her late husband (possibly even the last picture of him alive) would upset Paulette, I know I would get emotional. Do we wait to send her any pictures? (or any for that matter) How long? Does it get any easier with time? I suspect not. Again I feel silly for thinking such thoughts.

This morning Rod's plane landed safely in Sydney. I left the house emaculate this morning before leaving for work and even laid out a box of chocolates as a welcome home present. I'm breathing easier but I don't want to forget that your husband doesn't have to be in a foreign country to die, he could just as easily have a heart attack in the back yard. I hope I never become complacent and take whatever time I have with Rod for granted. Life and time is so precious.

Below is Paul's obituary from the Melbourne papers:-

Thursday December 4, 2008, The Age
CONLEY
Paul Raymond

Suddenly passed in Melbourne on Sunday November 30. Dearly loved husband of Paulette and father of Isabelle. Eldest son of Joyce and Bill, brother of Peter, David and Andrew, brother-in-law of Suzanne and Amber, uncle of Grace, Josh and Theo.

Darling Paul - my honey, my dear friend, my anchor. I will see you every day in the face of our beautiful daughter. You will be with us always in our thoughts and our memories. We love you so much and treasure your time as loyal husband and loving fun-filled father. May your lust for life live on through us, and through others that love you. A free spirit you always were. Our hearts brim with love and with loss.

Always yours Paulette and Isabelle.

A wedding and a funeral

Paul, a dear friend of Rod's who only just attended our wedding in Sydney last week passed away from a suspected heart attack while riding his bicycle yesterday. He was about Rod's age and looked fit and healthy. Rod is still in Vietnam and he called to tell me the news, he's is quite lost for words. I didn't now Paul very well but I wanted to cry as well. I spent a lot of time talking to his little girl at the wedding and my heart goes out to his poor wife Paulette. We will probably be going down to Melbourne this weekend to attend the funeral.....Its been a shocking week for all of us.

Wedded Bliss?

We've started married life with a really bad week. First we had really freak weather at the wedding, snow, hail, rain, gale force winds and some sunshine which really put a damper on our plans. We couldn't get married outside and we moved indoors into a room to do the ceremony which was set up quite nicely as a wet weather alternative but it was nowhere near as lovely as our orginal venue. I'm glad I didn't allow my dissapointment to show on the day and I'm surprised how blase' I was at all the disruptions and despite everything that went wrong I quite enjoyed myself.

The next day though, I felt it. Irony, dissapointment, resentment, regret and relief. I thought about how I didn't have time to stop and take in the day. To cherish those little moments. From the moment I woke up it was GO! Go! Go! right till the end. In hindsight I wished I had gotten my priorities right. I had put alot of emphasis on minor trivial things like the flowers and had not found the time for more important things like taking up my dress properly. I kept pulling the bodice of my dress up the whole night and was uncomfortable and afraid one of my boobs would pop out. I wish I had time to relax and breath. I was still wiring buttonholes and hadn't taken a bath yet when my make-up artist turned up early and I hurriedly took a 5 minute shower and didn't even mouisturise my face. When my make-up was gettig done instead of kicking back and enjoying being pampered, I fretted about the things that still needed to be done and then it started hailing. It was probebly at that point that something in me gave up and I knew that nothing was going to be perfect like the way I imagined it. After that nothing fazed me, I was as composed as the Buddha.

What would have made the day easier would have been the help of family. I got no help from my sisters. Both were too self absorbed on the day to see that I was crying out for help. My younger sister who is 24 but behaves like a 16 year old emo brat was still sulking over getting told off that she couldn't play her gameboy at the dinner table of a swanky restaurant we ate at the night before the wedding. My elder sister who had a baby 2 months ago was putting up all sort of excuses that she was busy tending the baby so she couldn't help me but last week she threw together a huge baby bash for 30 of her friends with no problems. My mom on the other hand was wonderful as she tirelessly dethorned all 100+ roses for me the night before (hence I am beating myself up about my priorities). My cousin who I initially didn't want to invite to the wedding was such a little helper and I don't think I could have finished everything without him. Everyone was still lounging around in thier pajamas watching TV and when the photographer arrived, everyone wasn't properly dressed except for me, despite none of them helping me to get ready, they couldn't even dress themselves on time . Only when Rod came and we got into our car, just the two of us that I felt at peace again.

I've tried not to think about the wedding so much and have concrentrated my thoughts on Rod and thigs that really matter to the both of us. We had a lovely morning just us two, taking our time driving back home. By Monday it felt like we didn't have a wedding at all. I can hardly remember the details now. Don't get me wrong, there were great parts about the wedding, and when I feel like talking about the good parts. perhaps when I see the pictures, I can write more favourably of the day. but it was not the best day of my life to be sure.

Then Rod had to fly off on Tuesday for a business trip which would take him away for the rest of the week till the weekend. I knew this was coming before the wedding and we made the best of the two days following the wedding to cherish that freshly married feeling and then he was off on a plane bound for Bangkok. The next morning I read the news that anti goverment protestors had taken control of the airport and that all in-coming and outgoing flights to the capital have been canceled. I'm frantic the whole morning and it isn't till midday I get a msg from Rod saying he landed safely at the Bangkok domestic terminal where they got diverted and had spent 6 hours sitting on the plane on the tarmac while waiting for immigration to sort them out. He was meant to catch another flight to Vietnam for more meetings but latest reports say the airpots have been closed indefinately till futher notice. It looks like he won't be back this weekend. I've been feeling a bit fearful, and a little bit angry as well (at his company, don't know why because they wouldn't have predicted this would happen) I thank god that he didn't go on a business trip to Mumbai and pray that the protest in Bangkok is a peaceful one and that it is just an annoying inconvinience and that he will return safe and sound to me soon.

Before & After

Pictures of the flowers I prepared for the wedding, Rod and I went to the Flemington Flower Market at 5.30am and my dad drove the lot up to the cabin we were staying the night before the wedding. My mom and I stayed up till 1am the night before arranging half the flowers and I worke up at 6am to finish the rest and also my bouquet the morning of the wedding. I loved my bouquet. It had 3 large pink/cream roses in the centre encircled by peony roses in shades of white, soft pink and deep pink with feathers. The reception flowers were David Austin roses in red, apricot and pink with lisianthus, sweet pea, hydrangea and statice.

The morning after, we had a stroll around the garden of the B&B we were staying at and I look a little worse for wear but you can see the relief on my face that its all over and later we are lounging back home again, with our cats. our certificate of marraige is on display on the sideboard.

Still too tired to write about the wedding...perhaps when I get my pictures back . Its weird and perhaps I shouldn't be feeling like this. It definately wasn't the greatest day of my life. I liked the morning after much better. I kept admiring my wedding ring, called Rod, 'Hubby' plenty of times. I suppose it was the stress of the day and not liking to be the centre of attention..plus there was the very bad weather that spoilt a few things...sigh.......















The sheer bulk I bought at the markets because I didn't know what I was doing




















My absolutely gorgeous DIY wedding bouquet.





















Bunches and bunches of reception flowers














More ceremony flowers
















After the deed is done. Looking relieved and relaxed with my new husband. Rod wearing his wedding hat















Relaxing with the lads

Changing of the old Guard

Love it or hate it, one can't deny that the US elections have been riveting entertainment to all us non voters. Its not just the candidates that are interesting, the whole election system is fascinating and so complexed starting from the primary elections leading up to today. As like with everything American its almost like one big game show.

I haven't said anything before and I prefer to keep my opinions about the matter to myself or risk coming across like some uneducated nut because frankly I don't know a thing about politics. For months I have been bemused by the heated opinions of Sydneysiders, most very pro Obama in an election that doesn't directly concern them at all. As some Americans have said:- they don't care what Australia is thinking because the Australians aren't voting. So when I see someone on the train getting all excited and rallying behind Obama and vilifying McCain/Palin. I want to ask them if they really understand the exact differing policies of the candidates? Are they making an educated choice or are they gunning for Obama because he's way cooler than an old fart like McCain? Are they being swayed by the media propaganda that seems overwhelmingly in Obama's favour or do they just want to see the changing of the old guard for the sake of having something different. As a white American comedian said, he's voting Obama because he wants a black president to misrepresent black men as white presidents have been doing for white men throughout history. And don't get me started on the Palin haters either. How can I take them seriously when all thier negativity is shaped by a spoof they watched on YouTube.

I readily admit that I prefered Obama to win, this I say in the same vein that I would like a particular football team to win because I prefer the colour of thier uniforms. Nothing more. Beyond that, I am highly skeptical that one man be he black or white could change the course of America and indirectly the world in 4 years. The win is symbolic more than anything else.

But at anyrate, Obama had won by a landslide. Good on him I say. Lets hope Obama 08 delivers more than Kevin 07.
nuff said

Unmentionables

One of the last items on my list to do b4 the wedding was to buy bridal underwear. I found a shop which specialises in bridal corsettry all the way in Wentworthville. I ask Rod to drive me there as the trains were not running that weekend. We made the mistake of taking the Paramatta Highway which is chock a block every weekend and it takes us over an hour to get to our destination. As with all long car trips, I start to feel drowsy(which is unfair to Rod who does all the driving) so for his sake, I pretend to stay awake by sleeping with my eyes open. This, I achieve by rolling my pupils back into my eye sockets. Does it really work? No, not really and after a feeble attempt to appear awake, I'm fast asleep and wake up sheepishly when Rod pulls into park at the Wentworthville town centre.

The shop looks pretty unassuming, but when I walk in, I realise its a very different underwear shopping experience. I'm told to wait for a vacant changeroom. All four changerooms are occupied and every customer has a personal shop assistant who does all the running around in the shop and gives the customer thier personal attention and advice on fitting. Usually when I buy underwear, its a fairly uncomplicated operation, I know my size and its a quick in and out for me, but these ladies take thier time and the assistants are very obliging and helpful. They aren't too fussed with trying to get a high turnover in the rooms hence I was in for a rather long wait. I didn't intend to spy but with nothing else to do, I notice the four women in the changerooms are all very large women. The bra sizes the shop assisantant are carting around look gigantuan and would fit my whole head and then some (I don't say that to be crude but that was really what I was thinking at that moment because I found the sizes so gobsmackingly huge! And even though I was in the land of indian takeaway and hot chips, I was bemused to find not just one obese woman in the store but 4??? ....and they weren't related either). No wonder they took so long because the fit and support had to be perfect. I think it would be terrible to feel so weighed down all the time and small breasted women the worldover should be thankful. and another thing, the assistant and customer aren't modest either. There is alot of boob baring, pulling, shifting and lifting them puppies into place in order to find the perfect fit. I'm reminded of those two British stylemakers 'Trinny and Susannah' . I watch thier show with open mouth horror at the audiacity of these two women who go around grabbing British women's ample bosoms and butt cheeks in shopping malls and telling them to love thier curves and jiggle bits.

When it comes my turn, the girl asked me for my size. Now I don't know if by juxtaposition with her last customer, I appear positively anorexic but when I tell her, she looks at me in disbelief and says "Nooooo, you're at least a size ten!"

"Darl, that's sweet but I haven't been a size ten since high school and even then just barely!" I thought.

We agree to try a size 12 and she runs off and bring me the corsett and belive it or not, the darn thing is too big. Damn these girls are good. The size ten fits perfectly and I fully understand the allure of the pinched waistline. Dita von Teese eat your heart out. Unfortunelaly the ribbing of the corset shows through my gown which is a very light silk. In the end I settle for those dubious adhesive chicken fillets and alot of Hollywood tape. Perhaps I should complete the look with some grandma knickers.

What a day Packs!

It was cold today so I had a toasted Subway sandwich for lunch. Only because the queue that usually goes out the door at Subway had transfered across the street to the TAB today. Yes, its Melbourne Cup day. The race that stops the nation but manages no effect on my office whatsoever. No office sweeps or even stopping for cheese and crackers. This is the only workplace I've been in where we work right through the Melboune cup race. Its sacrilege!

Actually, It had completely slipped my mind, with talks about interest rates cuts and the US election at the forefront of todays news, It wasn't till I saw women wearing race hats and fasinators on the train that the penny dropped. Women all over North Sydney have thrown on thier pretty spring dresses with paper thin shawls, even though we're in the middle of a cold snap heading towards summer. With style winning over comfort, they soldiered onto thier Melbourne Cup lunchoens cluching thier hats and holding onto the hems of thier short dresses as the cold and blustery winds tried to make them look foolish and ill attired.


(only Jen Hawkins can pull off such a look - taken from the SMH website. Reminds me of that ad where there is this sexy bikini clad model drinking Sprite and the tagline says, 'Drink Sprite, look sexy*' and at the bottom the disclaimer
*you must be sexy first)

I like Mebourne Cup, Not so much for the races, or the gambling but definately for the fashion. For weeks the shops have been selling the prettiest dresses, shoes and fasinators for race day. Its the only day where pple actually dress up for the occasion. There was a lacklustre response to Halloween in Australia because its perceived to be an America tradition but pple pull out the stops for Melbourne Cup. Its so uniquely Australian. I only wish it was a public holiday here like it is in Victoria.

Have just heard over the radio, Bart Cummings horse ' Viewed' has won the Melboune cup.

Caucus Race

Attended the most hilarious meeting the other nite..it was work related, we were going to meet the 'Friends of the Balmain Townhall', a group of women with an interest in the developement of the Townhall..all of them over 60 for sure. and carrying on in that naffy old woman sort of way. They had convened a general meeting in which to discuss the carpet selection. We had turned up especially as a courtesy to allow them some creative input into what carpet would be chosen, mind you we didn't have to and they weren't the clients but because its a public space, the community gets rather sensitive about these things so its good to make them feel involved.

If this was a real business meeting we would have turned up and gotten right into it, as professionals, time is money, but we had to sit thru an hour of rather trivial general commitee stuff. 15 minutes of wrangling wheter the group should meet half and hour earlier, the monthly budget report, the treasurer reports they had received $4.50 in interest this month. A collection of monthly membership fees, I reckon looked to be two dollars and the silliest was vacating all commitee positions ( it was actually thier AGM) all annouced and done rather formally only to have everyone re-elected 5 minutes later in the same roles (there were only 8 of them you see). I felt like Alice in Wonderland running in that riduculous caucus race. It was pretty difficult not to laugh at the absurdity of it all. How they tried to keep the air of formality and structure in the preceedings, but it didn't have the decorum of a usual business meeting. All the women talked at once and didn't listen to each other. They complained and nitpicked about the smallest things...and when finally we got to selecting the carpets, the process was a hoot..they tried to table a vote but everyone was speaking at once and the chairperson just said "Alright! Everyone go and stand on the carpet they like best" and it was like that game 'islands and crocodiles', four ladies stading on a 500mm square carpet sample. They picked a colour that was pratically identical to the current carpet..which was hideous by the way but thats democracy for you. Afterwards they got to the real reason of the meeting..a party! Even I had to laugh because it was all quite quaint really. Old ladies are funny creatures

Berrytime

There is this huge mulberry tree is someones front garden that has grown so large and its lower branches are weeping over the foot path on the way to the train station. Every spring it bears heaps of mulberries. I have been having a gorgefest on my way back from work. First time I had mulberries they were from a tree growing on the council median strip infront of my apartment and I found out then that only fully black mulberries are sweet, if even the tinest hint of red is on them they will be tart and sour. You have to have a light hand when you pick mulberries, The ripe ones are so full and juicy that by the end of picking just a handfull, your fingers are all stained purple and if you're not carefull so will all your best work clothes.

I so want a mulberry tree in the garden, but we haven't the space. We have planted strawberries, raspberries and blueberries this spring. I'm told that raspberries really should be eaten off the vine to taste its full flavor. I wouldn't know really because I never can afford the store bought ones either..up to $8 bucks a punnet. Here's hoping for homegrown berries next season

Hair & makeup

I was still undecided up until meeting the stylist about my hair. Decided to wear it down in the end. But even though I stressed I wanted a loose casual look. She made the curls too tight and assured me they would drop later....well, they didn't and Rod said the meanest thing after. He told me I looked like Rose Porteous/Hancock. WELL .... I said if I do look like Rose then why the hell was I marrying him for? I should find myself some old half dead filthy rich mining magnate to marry instead.

We had to hang around Richmond to go see the garden and restaurant pple to finalize details and payment. After paying $160 for my trial, I wasn't going to wash it all off straight away, I wanted to see how the look would hold up in the hot summer. So there I was, Rose Hancock, made up to the nines in horse country of all places. We went to the nursery and bird farm to kill time. All the local folk to thier credit were very polite and didn't stare, although I did get some stares from the children (ahh well, Halloween is around the corner innit?). I stuck to Rod like glue, thinking if I had to grin and bear through it then he might as well be implicated along with me...instead of asking who that crazy made up lady was they will say " Hey! Look at that guy with the crazy made up lady" and the locals will shake thier heads and mumble knowingly "Ahh... them silly city people"

Wedding Hairstyle

I've been growing my hair long for 9 months, always with the intention to wear it down on the wedding day. I've been having second thoughts after watching Lipstick Jungle and seeing Victory Ford's beautiful updos.

I love that headband look. Today I finally succumbed and bought a feather headband fasinator from Diva. I also found more headband looks and am seriously thinking that this is the look. Only problem, headbands give me headaches. I tried it on today and after 5 minuts my head started to hurt. I think I will pull the headband apart and reattached the feathers to a cloth band like below which will be kinder on my head.

Stories of France

Whenever I rummage thru Rod's library, often trying to find a book to read in the loo ( hah! he hates that habit of mine) I am always discovering little surprises about him. Books and things to give me a better insight into his past and childhood. For instance, he has nearly the complete collection of 'The Three Investigators' and whenever we're in a secondhand booksop he's always looking for his missing titles. Last nite, I found on the lower shelf, a cache of french storybooks, Used to teach French in high school. The book I pull out is called ' Contes du France' - 'Stories of France' Rod translates later. Anyway. On the front page is Rods full name plus his class number - 2D which meant he was fourteen at the time. Except for the English foreword explaining that these are a collection of simple French stories for junoir high schoolers, the rest of the book is completely in French, even the questions and answer section. I flip thru reading aloud and mispronounce every word, making no sense but liking how the words roll off my tongue. The next day I ask Rod to read it to me. He apparently took 4 years French in high school and 3 years German. To which he now barely reads or speaks French and can do a mean German accent in English which cracks me up all the time. 'Vee haf vays of making yoo tok. ya?

His forehead is furrowed and he's thinking really hard. but miracously its coming back to him. He reads me this story written in the first person about a boy. Alain is his name when he says ' Alain, cest moi' and its about his fist solo trip at the age of 12 to visit his Uncle Antoine in the South of France ( la Midi). He flies (avion) from Paris to Marsilles and takes the train (autorail) and finally the bus (autobus) from Veryan to Azy to see his uncle. When he decides to buy a bus ticket (billet) the conductor ask him. 'Premier, deuxiemme or troisiemme class?"

He sees that all the seats in the bus are the same and ask the conductor what is the the difference? To which he gets this answer "All the seats are the same, you can sit anywhere, first come first serve." Alain immediately buys a third (troisiemme) class ticket for 50 cents (cinquant centimes) and takes his seat because he says why pay first class prices (trois francs) when you can pay 50 cents for the same seat.

When other passengers arrive, some buy first class, others buy second and third. Alain is perplexed ' Cest estrange' (its strange) he says. A poor old peasant woman in old clothes arrives to board the bus. Surely, Alain thinks, she will buy a third class ticket. but No! She buys first class and pays 'trois francs' and takes her seat. The bus is quite full now and starts its journey to Azy amid a puff of billumious black smoke, It is an old bus and Alain wonders if it will actually make the journey to Azy. When the bus approaches its first hill....it stalls. (Now I wish I can recall and write all that happens next in French because its very funny)

The bus drivers says
"Passagers d'attention! Passagers de première (first class passengers) remain in the bus.

"Deuxièmes passagers de classe (Second class passengers!) Alight from the bus and walk up the hill on foot

"Troisièmes passagers de classe (Third class passengers!)...........Enroulez-vous les pochettes, les gars! (Roll up yer sleeves. Lads!) Get out and push the bus!

ahahahhahaah...I kept rereading the part when the drivers says "roll up yer sleeves, Lads' in french....there is more to the story but the mystery is over and credit to Rod, he read me the whole chapter and was amazed he managed to remember any of his French.

He thinks he's so hard done by...I'll show him a real bridezilla!!!!!!!

On Saturday we went shopping in the city. Rod had to buy shoes and a belt to complete his wedding outfit. I've already bought my shoes, I found them months ago at David Jones. They were flat beaded sandals which were the exact shade of dusty ivory as my gown albeit slightly on the informal side but I conviced myself that they were the ones. Then something caught my eye in the Nine West shop window, a lovely ivory diamonte pair of shoes with a low kitten heel (after I spent months searching for low heel wedding shoes in that paticular shade of ivory b4 settling on the DJ pair) So now I have 2 pairs of shoes for the wedding.

What I really needed was underwear for the dress but I got distracted by the lacy (sometimes completely impractical) Elle Mcphearson range on sale. I like owning sexy lingerie,..yet everyday I just pull out my old cotton set because they are so comfy and only resort to wearing my best underwear when all my crappy cotton ones are in the wash. Nevertheless I bought some Elle because they were too cheap to ignore and I will leave them on display at the top of my underwear drawer. So not only did I not buy what I set out to find, I bought two items I didn't really need.

Rod comes back after leaving me in the lingerie department and wanted to show me a belt he liked. I said if he liked it, he should have just bought it. to which he had the cheek to say this:-
"Well knowing you, I had to get your aproval first, incase it wasn't the exact colour or type of belt that you wanted for the wedding"

"You say that like its a bad thing" I shot back and anyway he's way off base with a comment like that. Rod's his own man and I am generally there in the capacity of fashion consultant but if he's made up his mind about something he's going to do it regardless of what I say. I might be more opinionated on stuff about the wedding especially if he's about to commit fashion suicide but overall Rod has had a concept on how he wanted to look from the start, I've merely fine tuned it for him.

So after my tick of aproval, we bought the belt but no luck with the shoes. When we get home I hurriedly lock myself in the room and try on my new shoes with the dress, I've done it a dozen times but its alrite because Rod's never seen the whole ensemble. then its his turn but I get to see. he's got everthing except his shoes including the felt hat we drove all the way to Katoomba to buy. When he ask me what I thought. I say, all he's missing is a 1920's tommy gun and a cigar hanging out of his mouth. He looks like a character from the Godfather. but he's too square to be an actual gangster, perhaps the crooked lawyer that works for the gangsters.

With this ring.....

We went to see the jeweller to get our wedding bands made. We used the same guy who made my engagement ring because he's a craftsman who works in this tiny unassuming shop rather than a salesman in a suit you find in a shop full of gliterring bling. I took to him pictures of a ring I had seen on Etsy. It was a simple gold band with a hand hammered look. Rod had convinced me that our wedding bands should be an unbroken ring of gold as is traditional. As my engagement ring already had diamonds in it, I didn't mind but I got him to go with me on the hand hammered effect because we both love things with a handmade feel about them. His first reaction to the pictures I brought home was that it looked like a bit of gold foil candy wrapper scrunched and twisted around someones finger. (It does actually) but I think its represents us better as we're not shiny, polished pple, we're a bit rough around the edges, a bit worn, not perfect but special nevertheless.

I didn't know if the jeweller could replicate that random beaten pattern at the right scale as well because if I were to describe it, its sometimes doesn't look hammered but as if someone used a very sharp knife and sliced away slivers of gold and all the slivers are randomly sized and shaped then lastly ran a very light polish over the ring to soften the peaks giving it a lovely subtle facetted appearence. I've seen some hammered rings in stores and the hammering looks too heavy and you get very deep dents nothing subtle at all. but he put me at ease quickly when he went back to his workroom and quickly beat up a few sample pieces to show us. He did it exactly the way we wanted it and so quickly that I thought we could just sit and wait while he made it there and then (like getting our shoes mended) but I have to wait a week.

Behaving like a Crazy Person

My sister/brother inlaw and I had some heated debate on what cocktail dress means. The outcome of the debate is usually them pounding me into submission where I begrudgingly have thier opinions stuffed down my throat.

To summarise, my wedding invites said 'garden cocktail dress' in which I took to meaning, men wore a jacket and tie and women wore short cocktail dresses (ala spring racewear). My sister (in her know it all voice) was adamant that I should have said semi formal and that cocktail dress meant a night out at the pub and the guys could turn up in jeans and the women would wear club clothes. She kept insisting I got it wrong even after I told her I googled it a thousand times.

So I go back and furiously google 'cocktail dress' again and thank you! Internet, for proving to me that I'm not an idoit after all!!!' As much as I would love to rub thier noses in it, It would be utterlly childish to send them a link and say...I TOLD YOU SO!!!!!!!

I can't win debates with my sister and brother in law because they always gang up on me and also because I'm naturally non-combative. I have the worst come backs and sometimes my mind just goes blank when I'm confronted agressively. On my own and with the benefit of hindsight, I dream up all these witty and apt things I should have said and my revenge fantasies get crazier and weirder. Like having the fashion editor of Vouge on my side chastising the two of them on thier appalling knowlege of dress code, or the two of them turning up at my wedding in jeans while everyone else is dressed to the ninths.

Sometimes you want to rant and explode on your relos or just want to sit on thier heads and yell NANANANANANANAH!! and generally behave like a crazy person. but you can't. So I dumped it on my friends on facebook, because the glee in being proven right is only half the joy if you can't gloat about it !!!

Aren't we all overreacting just a little?

I'm reading my friend's travel blog, feeling slightly jealous. 9 months ago, her life was not unlike mine, she was getting married, had bought her own house with her partner, was working as an architect when she decided to chuck it all ( 3 months before the wedding after I had bought my non refundable ticket to fly to her wedding) and have a mini quarter life crisis. She bought an open year ticket to europe and couldn't even hang around for my wedding. Now she's doing the most bizzare things, hitchiking and couchsurfing with virtual strangers basically being being a bum and moocher ( I mean that in the nicest way but I call a pipe a pipe when I see one). Its baffles me.

As I mope about at dinner time, I'm asking Rod all these rhetorical questions to gauge his reaction if I decided to go away for a while (only temporarily while he pays the mortgage) and couchsurf myself. In truth I would be miserable without him. What I'd love would be for the both of us to pack up and jet off together. Of course this would never do for Rod, who is Mr Sensible, he's the last boy scout on earth. He lives by thier motto ' Be Prepared'

So after unsuccessfuly getting Rod to agree to wait for me in Sydney and pay all our bills while I holiday for 6 months or let alone come along with me while the bank reposesses our house, the talk turns to buying a new computer. One that does not lagg so badly that I can take a 15 min shower and still not find windows loaded up when I get out. I want an Imac but for all the wrong reasons. I want one because it looks cool. Rod's not aversed to the idea but he's being cautios as usual. He says:-

"The way things are at the moment, it just might be wise if we had some cash squirreled away, just in case."

.........You know what? Perhaps we've all had it so good for so long and none of us have ever been in a recession that we're sort of naive in thinking that its not so bad. It didn't occur to me that whats happening in Wall Street and around global financial markets would have any direct affect on us or our jobs. Interest rates coming down is a good thing when you have a mortgage and we bought our house for us, not as an investment property so falling house prices in the short term don't bother me. We've used our own money to invest so we don't have to make any margin calls (Everthing is getting slaugthered at the mo, have to hang on till everthing recovers in a few years). So really, what else are we worried about? Losing our jobs? There's the slightest of possibilities, but with an international shortage of engineers and firms desperate to find workers, they aren't going to be firing anyone at his work at the mo.I'm not too worried at my work place either. So do I think Rod is overreacting? We're not what the government would call 'working families' in fact we have it pretty good, I think. So why can't I buy my bloody Imac?????

"So what about S?" (i.e the globe trotting moocher) I ask, as if to say, "Well if you think I'm bad? look at HER!!!" Blowing her life savings to go travelling and then returning to an Aussie job market thats isn't quite as crash hot as when she left it. In fact I know things are slowing down already. Is she worried? ( I'll bet its the furthest thing from her mind as she's sipping a margarita in some mediteranian villa somewhere)

'All I'm saying is we should be prepared" Says Rod

Sometimes I hate that I'm marrying a boy scout.

What colours?

I've never written about the wedding. Infact when peaple ask me about it I really have nothing much to say. It is just about 6 weeks away and I'm getting more excited because I can finally pin down some of the details

A few years ago, Rod and I were fossiking at the Reverse Garbage in Marrickville. You never know what you will find at the RG, mostly junk but sometimes you find a real gem if you're willing to go rummage through all the crap. I found a huge reel of ribbon for 5 dollars. Now when ur at the shops and you want just a metre of ribbon you get charged about 3 dollars anyway. Sometimes a bargain is so good it doesn't matter what you are buying, you do it for the sake of bragging that you saved so much money buying something you absolutely do not need. Of course Rod is the sensible one and ask me what I was going to do with 100 mtrs of ribbon. I stood there like a 5 year old clutching a toy she really wanted her parents to buy her and dug my heels in, refusing to put it back...."I don't know? Use it at my wedding?" I cheekily replied. Now I don't always follow through with all my cockamanie ideas but I was determined that the ribbon would feature in the wedding because if it doesn't, I can't find any other use for 100mtrs of ribbon. (build a maypole?) I've already used some during Christmas and the odd birthday but its hardly dented the supply. The problem now is that its quite a bold red and white candy stripe pattern (grosgrain) completely at odds with my idea of a soft muted romantic colour sheme.

Rod loves colour, whereas I'm a beige on beige girl. I want the colours to be classic but I would agree with Rod that in the pictures it will look a bit dull and not really us at all (besides he hates white flowers and even though he couldn't be arsed about the minute details, I want the reception to be a reflection of the both of us). So last nite I brought the ribbon out and trialed it with some flowers out of our garden. I am quite happy with the result, its very kitsch.


Except my gown is not kitsch at all. Its a simple elegant roman inspired a-line dress. I was envisioning a cream bouquet all along but I took some pictures with the multicoloured bouquet to see if I would change my mind later. Anyway don't want to stress too much. Its a fairly minor detail.

The boys are ever so affectionate when they are asleep. They tear each other apart when they play. I hope they remain best buddies for life

Insert attention grabbing headline here

The great thing about blogging, is everyone who has an opinion about something can blog about it. The bad thing about blogging, is everyone who has an opinion on something can blog about it.

50 LIST

1. Pubish my own picture book
2. Master Jazz/blues on the piano
3. Own a Mini Cooper
4. Own a Vespa
5. Visit Canada - Montreal
6. visit Japan - Kyoto
7. visit London - rent a house boat
8. scuba dive/snorkel at the great barrier reef
9. Go to New Zealand
10. draw and paint regurlarly
11. go skiing
12. kayak in the Norwegian fjords
13. Get a cat and dog
14. Visit Monet's garden
15. Visit David Austins nursery
16. Do a backpacking tour of europe
17. Cook something special every weekend for Rod
18. Do volunteer work
19. Learn to bake
20. finish fixing up the house
21. Floss every nite
22. Go to Disneyland again
23. Climb Mt Kosiousko
24. Go camping
25. See the Northen lights in Antartica (probably never happen a I can't even take Sydney winters)
26. Be the best damn architect I can be
27. Go to the beach every summer
28. get a good camera and learn to take great photos
29. get a Mac
30. have a rose garden with every single David Austin
31. cherish my relationship with Rod
32. stay a size 8-10 forever
33. Design and build my own house
34. See Gaudi's work in Barcelona
35. See my favorite painting by John Sargent Singer in New York
36. Go see a musical/theatre once a year
37. Go see a concert once a year
38. Grown my own fruit and vegies (aim to be self-sufficient)
39. Become a registered Architect
40. buy a house in the inner west
41. Design and renovate my house
42. ride a loop de loop roller coaster
43. Own furniture by Eames/Wegner
44. Learn Pilates
45. Own a cottage in the blue mountains/ southern highlands country
46. Go totally organic
47. Eat at a nice restaurant once a month
48. Assemble a good professional work wardrobe
49. Get married
50. have children