It is a weekend of weddings. On Saturday I celebrated the nuptials of the lovely Hannah of Make, Do, and Push, and today I am off to London to search for the perfect Bridesmaid dresses ahead of my dear friend Megan's big day next year. It's reminded me of the morning of my wedding - all of the anticipation that had been slowly bubbling away for the past year suddenly bursting forth. The excitement, and the nerves, and the utter happiness of declaring your love for that special person in front of the most important people in your life. We were married in the summer of 2012, in the midst of the wettest summer on record. As the days descended into a single digit countdown to the big day I became obsessed with a variety of different weather websites. For my wedding was to be outside, with no real back-up plan, and the it had rained endlessly for weeks upon weeks. So I would sit as my desk, refreshing a variety of weather websites over and over again, hoping to see the rain clouds vanish from sight.
And do you know what? It didn't rain. It was the first clear day in what felt like months. But I didn't care anymore, all I could think about was my partner, and that this was beginning of a very special chapter in our lives together. That's the glorious thing about weddings - all of the planning and stress and feeling a bit overwhelmed disappears in the blink of an eye.
The boy is now seventeen months old! In many ways it's a magical time. He's so excited and curious about everything he's discovering of the world around him. But I must confess, I'm finding it exhausting. His new-found ability to run means he wants to do just that, all the time, and most often whilst heading in the opposite direction to me. I love that he's exploring his new-found independence, and that he's so confident, but when we're dividing our time between a busy town (and he has no concept yet of roads or cars or scary dogs etc), and a house which is full of half-finished major restoration projects and power tools, I feel as if all I do is say 'NO', on repeat.
Despite the lack of a bathroom, kitchen, and furniture, our new house is starting to feel more like home. It's a bit odd when we come back to our old house for a few days, with the musty smell in the air and post piled up behind the door - it doesn't quite feel like it's ours anymore.
In other news - I went out! With my husband! And other grown ups! I wonder how long it takes, post-baby, for that to stop feeling like a novelty? I've been doing a lot of planning and preparation for Lori and the Caravan in the run up to (whisper it) Christmas. Expect more fairs, and lot's of exciting vintage clothes! I'll be taking the shop on the road around London and the South-East, so look out for more details over the next few months. Things, my friends, are a-happening.
So that's all from me for another week. I'll allegedly have internet at the new house from Monday and will be able to get back to blogging a tad more frequently - but this saga has been dragging on for weeks now so who knows!
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