Busy doing nothing

Starting to enter a strange kind of time. The artificial, but useful, deadline of Christmas has come and gone and we find ourselves in that space of nothingness counting the hours to the new year. Everyone's on holiday (except me of course) so there's little point in trying to call or contact anyone about anything until everyone returns next week. Maria seems to believe that there's a mass of things to do and keeps wanting to make lists - she's a wise cookie that one. I have managed to convince her that anything involving other people will be hopeless this week - this is certainly true with trying to get my band together to rehearse - so we are to concentrate on things we can actually achieve all by ourselves. Embracing this spirit i bought myself some shoes:

Not exactly the boots depicted all those many weeks ago in my early, naive and passionate posts, but they ain't half comfy - my mum will be pleased. I'm yet to discover whether i can dance in them or not.

Father Christmas also bought me a posh pink tie that, spookily, is quite a match for the pink parts of the wedding - what a clever man however did he guess? Now my outfit is complete. My only fear is the tightening of my waistline over the festive period. Hopefully my fear will drive me to overcome my waistline rather than the magic of elastic waistbands helping me to overcome my fear.

We knocked together an order of service to show the parents which was a big hit, i think. Made it sort of real for everyone and was probably greeted with an internal sigh of relief as it all looks alarmingly normal - you know, song-reading-song-marriage-sermon-song that kind of thing. No dancing bears or bare dancers, human sacrifice or jumping over broomsticks. I get the sneaky suspicion that most of the family thought we were going to something weird and way out. My dad was particularly pleased that there was going to be chairs at the reception - oh the horror of compromise! How the tiniest things become points of the sort of discussions you could plumb into a house to heat through the winter. We don't want a seating plan - why? Well mostly because it's a buffet and we don't want to be sitting on some head table, we want to be milling around talking to people, and we don't want other people to be constrained to their allocated position. It also means you have to know who's coming and we're not entirely sure. Maria suggested that it would be a terrible thing for our families to have to fight for seats and shouldn't we reserve a table for them. I suppose that once the tables and chairs are put out and the hall opened again for the reception then the mad clamour, reminiscent of the Cherokee Strip Land Rush of 1893, for seating could overwelm our parents so that they end up sitting next to some hairy yobbo friend of mine (you know who you are!). Although i'd hate to think of, or imagine, anyone fighting over seats you do have to consider the possibility, so we agree to reserve a table, but that's not quite enough for the whole family so we reserve two tables. But then i'm not sure my mother wants to be stranded on a reserved table, or that Tim or Jamie wouldn't rather be free to roam leaving two empty tables, and what about people who only know the family, should they be reserved to? Suddenly the truth behind the table plan is laid plain and bare for all to see with crystal clarity. Maria's fighting it, determined that the odd reserved table would be enough but i can see behind those luscious, luminous eyes that she can sence the inevitability of my logic. So, we decide - sod it, they can fight for it like anyone else :)

We made a decision on the "Maria's Entrance" and "Married Couple Exit" music for the service. I was really pleased by Maria's choice of entry music. I'd been playing her various possiblities in the car journeys over Christmas and i hadn't expected her to go for something this groovy. It's a great piece of music though - reminds me of summer festivals. The exit music was a song i hit on immediately but it took a little while for it to grow on Maria - it's perfect though :) You'll have to wait until you get your order of service at the actual wedding to find out what they are!

It's funny, i didn't think i had anything to say much in this one and i haven't even said what i meant to. Maria's possibly buying candles at Ikea tomorrow (brave soul) although they might be too smelly - not sure - would 50 smelly candles overpower a room as large as a church? I found a tie-dye sheet shop - we want to use tie-dyed sheets as tablecloths, but these might be a little too colourful - we shall see. Maria will also try to pick up her license to marry from Bromley council. Rings are to be collected on the 14th Jan, next dress fitting on the 15th. We've got five weeks to go and i've got seven songs to learn and the rest of the band to teach them to and a spectacular bossa nova to nail down outside of regular wedding things to organise - we just love the pressure of it all.

The last bit is really quite difficult. I believe that the whole day really will just come together but a lot of that depends on the wonderful kindness of a few friends who are going to be rushing about behind the scenes on the day itself. Many people have offered their help which is fabulous but i have to take that offer and make it concrete, assign it a job and get a commitment that it'll actually be done - i find this really hard, asking for help and then bossing people around after they've been so kind as to offer. I know that it's the only way we can be sure that glasses get put out, food is served and plates cleared at the right times and i also know that everyone wants to help and is happy for us to tell them when and where - it's just me. Anyhow, deep breaths. On Sunday the organisation of the wedding day itself begins in earnest....