Bad timing

We have our engagement photo shoot tomorrow. We've chosen the grounds of Blenheim palace for it as they are immensely picturesque. We also enjoy frequent visits there, both as sightseers and as walkers. James is also a huge fan of winston Churchill, who was born there and who proposed to his wife there. 

We have been looking forward to this for months as we are keen to have some lovely keepsake photographs of us in our natural environment, out and about and relaxed. We have also been looking forward to seeing our photographer again as she is a great laugh and good company, and may also be bringing her sausage dog. We have been hopeful for many months that the weather will be fine as it will make or break the photos and my mood. We remain hopeful that the weather will be fine. Sadly what isn't is my health. Having had a cold brewing for the last week it has finally matured today and I am feeling rubbish. I would like to think a good nights sleep will be restorative but as I'm not even due home from work until 11pm it's hardly ideal. Thus tomorrow I will be liberally applying concealer to my nose, which is currently doing a Rudolph impression and hoping I can prop my eyelids open with matchsticks to stop them looking so bleary! 

117 days and counting. 

STRESS

I'm naturally a bit of an optimist and a bit of a dreamer and I tend to blithely go along with life assuming that everything will be alright in the end. I'm immensely lucky in that it always has been. I'm hopeful that this time will be no different but over the last few days the stress has really started to tell. 

The smile that has been splitting my face for the last few months has started to slip more frequently and the tears are starting to fall. The little things are really getting to me and today I slammed the phone down on BT with the words 'thanks for nothing'. 

Unusually, for the girl who thought nothing of sitting her A-levels, grade 8 piano and grade 8 flute in one go, I think this time I might have bitten off a little more than I can chew. 

I had naively underestimated the stress involved in moving house, starting a new job and planning a wedding, all within the period of a couple of months. Add to this the fact that over the past couple of weeks I have been constantly working 13 hour shifts and that James and I don't have any free weekends between now and August, I am also battling exhaustion. I am living life in the fast lane (literally for the two hours of the day I'm commuting) and in order to try and cram in all the things that need doing any relaxation time has gone out the window. 

I'm hopefully that once the stress of moving is out of the way next week and I'm back into the less taxing part of the rota that I might be able to regain my perspective and take stock a bit. For now though I am bridezilla so if anyone says hello or asks how I am there's a reasonable chance I'll end up either crying on their shoulder or shouting at them. If you're on the receiving end of this then I am really really sorry! 

On a more exciting note we've booked our menu tasting for 22nd June, arranged with the local pub in tredington to open early on the wedding day to serve food and beverages to any keen beans, started moving bits into the new house and sent out the first invitation. Please don't panic if yours hasn't come yet - the insert still isn't done but that wasn't relevant to the first recipients. 

118 days and counting. 

Far and wide

Rumours reached me tonight that some friends, or more like surrogate family, may be prepared to travel thousands of miles from Tasmania to be at our wedding. The fact that people are prepared to make such a journey is incredibly humbling. Should they come they will make up a contingent of people traveling from foreign climes  to attend. 

Both James and I have uncles who live abroad and both have already decided to come. James' will be coming from Adelaide, Australia, while mine will be coming from slightly nearer as he only lives in fuertaventura. In general, James' family and some of his friends will have further to travel as a large number will be coming down from Scotland. My family and friends are largely clustered in the south of England and as such will have a slightly easier time of things. 

A small number of my family are located within just a few miles of our wedding venue and reception so they get off lightly. Even I will be travelling further on the morning of the wedding than they will, although our new house in Banbury is less than half an hour from the venue. 

No matter how far each of our guests travels or how long it takes, we will be grateful to each and every one who attends and helps make our special day extra special. That people are prepared to put themselves to the time, and with a weekday wedding, the inconvenience, of attending is a marvel. The people who are being invited to the wedding are individually special to me and to James. We will miss any who cannot attend, but will celebrate the presence of those who can and be immensely touched at the effort they have made. I for one cannot wait to gather my nearest and dearest around me on such a special occasion. 

There are a few people who cannot attend, because they are no longer with us. I will keenly feel the absence of my beloved grandad, my playmate for my entire childhood, my grandmother, whose legacy helped purchase our house and who funded my education, and Alison, friend and mentor. RIP. 

4 months to go

Suddenly, today, the realisation that the wedding is only 4 months away makes it seem really soon. I am incredibly excited about that prospect. In the last few weeks we have acquired our first marital home, and as such wedding planning has taken a bit of a back seat. 

Mum is churning out the invitations like nobody's business. I am plugging away at the roses but at a slower rate than I was managing. My guest list is undergoing to odd tweak, prior to finalising it. We are eagerly awaiting our tasting and this coming weekend we have our engagement photo shoot. We are keeping our fingers crossed for a nice day as we hope to utilise the grounds of Blenheim palace for the photos. 

There's also rumblings of a new addition to the family - although with four legs not two...! 

122 days and counting! 

The invites

A few weeks ago I mentioned that I had delegated the hand-making of the invitations to my mum. Since then she has been beavering away admirably and has made massive inroads into the task. The result is that this week I will be able to had out the first invitation. The big send will not happen for a while yet but as I'm seeing a close friend on Friday I thought hand-delivering the first one would be a nice touch. 

In doing so I can only hope that James will not do a Rory McElroy. I can't imagine the humiliation and pain that would ensue if James called off our wedding at this stage. Thankfully I am secure enough with our relationship to not be fearful that this eventuality will befall me. If it were to I could only say 'hell hath no fury... '

While the majority of the invites are at the finishing touch stage we are yet to give mum the final guest list with addresses. I am also yet to complete the insert to the invitation which will add the extra bits of 'need to know' information. I guess of better get busy. 

124 days and counting. 

The marriage of Catriona Leonard and James Reid featuring Sam

There's no real question about it: While James and I will invariably be centre stage at our own nuptials we will without a doubt be competing with one of the cutest faces on the planet. Little Sam, who revels in attention will not doubt be playing to the camera and relishing the adoring looks that will be heading his way. 

Sam is the love of my life and James knows it. As we spend this weekend with my parents Sam shadows me from room to room, never letting me sit for more than a few second before jumping on to my lap. 

Sam's roles on the big day will include ring bearing and looking cute. He will be decked out in a tartan lead and collar and his clipping schedule has already been worked out so that he will be maximally fluffy on the day. 

Thankfully the minister at the church, while thinking we were a little bit loopy I'm sure, openly embraced the idea of Sam being part of the day. Thanks to hiring out the whole hotel for the reception even they conceded to allow him to take part. The majority of our major suppliers, including the florist and the photographer, have their own dogs so think it's wonderful that Sam is going to be involved. I think the only thing we'll need to watch out for is that we don't get completely overshadowed. 

It's a good day!

Today has been momentous for a number of reasons. Probably the biggest reason is that I took delivery of the keys to our first home. To say this house ticks all the boxes is an understatement. It is everything we wanted plus all the bonuses and for £200 less per month to own it than we currently pay in rent. We're not due to move in for a couple of weeks due to our frantic schedule and I'll post more when we do. 

On the wedding front today's weigh in hit the momentous stone mark. Although I've not lost as much or as quickly as I would like I am pretty pleased with myself. If I lose another stone by September I will be ecstatic. 

For now though... 127 days and counting. 

The beauty regime

I have to confess to being completely lazy when it comes to most things but in particular skincare and beauty. It is the exception rather than the rule for me to wear make up and my face is a stranger to most things but water. 

As such when my foundation (purchased in 2009) ran out mid application on Saturday, I decided a trip to a department store was in order for my day off. And so today I went to debenhams with no clear idea of which brand I was after but happy to have a look around. 

After about 5 minutes loitering around the various make up displays I was approached by the Clinique lady. After establishing that my face was a little flaky and trying to hide her horror at my present beauty regime, or lack of, she colour matched me to a natural finish foundation and very subtely (no seriously I was impressed) suggested their three step introduction pack should I ever feel like starting a new skin care regime. 

And so it was that the £100 Natwest generously refunded me for having been ditzy and left it in the cash machine, saw a sizeable inroad as I walked away with a new foundation and new cleansing products, not to mention the best of intentions to have a radiant and smooth face by the time of the wedding. 

135 days and counting. Watch this space! 

My rock

My day today didn't pan out as I'd expected. Rather than being on my way home from Winchester right now, having spent 8 hours at the hospital, I had anticipated being on my way back from London with a gently snoring James in the passenger seat. We had been meant to spend the day with one of our bridesmaids and ushers having lunch and seeing a show at the V&A. 

But at 10 o'clock this morning I received a slightly panicked call from my parents in Scotland to say that my 92 year old granny couldn't walk and they didn't know why. My reaction was instant 'I'm on my way'. And so was James'. Without a moments hesitation he was out the front door and into the car, our plans for the day discarded in a heartbeat. 

In my eyes this makes him wonderful. He will drop anything and everything in a flash if I or any of my family need it. We don't have to ask, he just does. I can rely on him entirely to do whatever is required. Today he was not only my fiancé, but he was also my rock, my chauffeur (I've never made it from Oxford to Winchester so quickly and I'm no slouch when it comes to the accelerator!), my calming presence and my light relief. He kept the various ambulance crew entertained. He fed the parking meter. He plied me with drinks and newspapers to keep me amused as we waited to be seen. He phoned my mum regularly to update her as they raced back from Scotland at a pace lewis Hamilton would have been proud of. He even made himself scarce at granny's request, returning soaked by the torrential downpour when requested. 

Tonight granny remains in hospital. She can't walk. seemingly because of pain in her leg, but as yet we don't know the cause. 

So thank you James. Thank you for being you. Thank you for supporting me. Thank you for sharing my values and for putting me and my family first whenever it really matters and even when it doesn't. That is one of the reasons I love you, one of the reasons I'm marrying you and one of the reasons I know that we will make it. Whatever life throws at us. 

The wedding ceilidh

It is no secret that our evening reception will be centred around a ceilidh. The word is Gaelic for gathering and within the first month of being with James he had taken me to one. To a Scotsman, ceilidh dancing is in the blood. For me it was more of an acquired skill but I turned out to not be too terrible at it. While we lived in London we went to ceilidhs regularly. It's less easy to find them in Oxford but we managed to get to one organised by a friend for burns night a few months back. 

For our ceilidh we have sourced a live band (because you really can't ceilidh to a recording) called the quiet men. They will do a three hour set of which two will be ceilidh and one hour will be covers of well known songs. 

For those who don't know ceilidhs are the Scottish equivalent of a barn dance. They are lively and boisterous but fairly easy to get the hang of and with a good 'caller' to walk you through the dance before the music starts they allow everybody to have a go. We hope that the more structured approach to the dance will encourage a greater number of our guests to get up on the dance floor than is traditional - let's face it we've all been to weddings where the dance floor is deserted and everybody hangs around the edge drinking. 

There is an element of risk to having a ceilidh. Personally I think they should come with a health warning attached. I have had to invest in wedding shoes with straps as I know from personal experience that shoes can go flying. Watch out for a configuration called the basket - petrifying doesn't do it justice. For all my female friends I would strongly advise flat shoes and for the sake of the men's toes I think stilettos are best avoided. 

The other thing I love about ceilidhs are the names of the dances. They are deliciously suggestive and include titles such as 'the gay Gordon's', 'the dashing white sergeant' and 'strip the willow'. Make of that what you will. 

Keeeeep dancing!

The receiving line

Having spent the evening with my parents it was inevitable that a discussion about the wedding would ensue at some point. The topic of discussion this evening was that of a receiving line. 

I was informed that a receiving line was obligatory. While James sat and watched the resulting rally mum and I then heatedly debated the topic. I was firmly against and she resorted to quoting debretts - again. Ultimately this is an argument that was only every going to have one winner - at the end of the day it is our wedding and our decision. 

My reasons for being against a receiving line are as follows:

1. They are timely. 

2. They are antiquated 

3. They are awkward for all concerned

4. On my wedding day I can't envisage wanting to be trapped in a line exchanging meaningless platitudes over and over again about how beautiful I'm looking, how happy I must be and what a fabulous day it is. Naturally that is all a given - joke! 

5. I am yet to be a guest at a wedding where I have actively enjoyed a receiving line - nor reached the far end of it feeling I share a greater degree of intimacy with any of the people I have just been received by - at least half of whom are unlikely to have had any idea who I am. 

Mums reasons for a receiving line are as follows:

1. It is customary

2. It is polite to ensure that each guest has had the opportunity to speak to the main protagonists of the day 

3. As the financial host of the event the guests should have an opportunity to express their gratitude to her and dad. 

It has been left at the suggestion that James and I should circulate around the tables during the course of the meal. I envisage us wanting to do this anyway as we will be surrounded by our nearest and dearest. 

In the event that we do decide to have a receiving line James is of the firm opinion that the piper should be situated nearby to drown out any resulting conversation. In short our guests might expect to receive many things from us on the day but a line will invariably not be amongst them. 

The stag summit

The was the grandiose title that James assigned to his boozy lunch with his best man on Sunday. In all fairness he was not only coherent, but staggeringly close to sober, when I collected him from the train yesterday night. Although I will never be privy to the precise details that were discussed during this particular meeting I have managed to glean the following :

The date - James has settled upon having his stag do the same weekend that I am having my hen. 

The venue - it was always going to be Edinburgh!

The activities - amidst the requisite boozing it seems like the boys might do other things including a mooted idea of carting. 

The guest list - now confirmed at 10 invitees. 

Roll on July!