I haven't had much inclination to blog of late. I don't really believe there to be any reason in particular why this would be, just that every day of my new married life isn't exactly what I would consider note worthy.
So, Kate and Wills have announced their very Royal Engagement and I am reminiscing about my own special day and wondering whether there will be much difference between the two events.
As Wills couldn't quite stretch to a 'new' engagment ring, I thought it only charitable that I offer Kate my own wedding dress as it has become clear that the recession may have reached the 'Aristocrats of Anglesey'.
Having also been very proud of my handmade Wedding Stationary, I would like to extend my hand once more and knock up a few save the dates in readiness of the day.
I would also like to recommend Boxeddy for their dancing pleasure although I'm not sure how an Arctic Monkey first dance would go down in the Royal Palace if I'm honest.
I'm sure there will be many a Royalist who truly believe that the British economy will receive a boost when the two are united next year but I wanted to take this opportunity to confirm that the Draycote Hotel bar didn't do too badly in the Summer of 2010 (thanks mostly to a rather generous Toby Young and his love of Jaeger Bombs - and I'm not talking about exploding knitwear).
So, how different could their Big Day really be?
I know for one that my mother was not caught on camera chewing gum, although in her defense if there happen to be a lack of bar staff available for the event, Kate's mother Carol is more than qualified to serve up a well iced G&T. She may even push to a mini packet of dry roasted should one require it.
I get to thinking, is Kate really worrying herself with thoughts of chair covers and table settings, music choices and disco lights? Me thinks not. However, I'd like to hear her excuses if the day isn't anything close to perfection. I would have loved to stay home every day scanning the pages of Brides magazine and watching endless programmes on Wedding TV so as not to miss the latest Wedding 'must have'.
I did however have the perfect day, even through the stress and near breakdown. I have about an ounce of Kate Middleton's elegance and decorum and even less of a financial standing but I am extremely happy and extremely lucky.
She may be the future Queen of England but I am the current Queen of Crick. I bet Wills doesn't go out in the dark for Rowntrees Fruit Gums or brush Kate's hair when she's ill and I'm sure he doesn't sit and chat whilst she reclines in the bath sharing tales of a hard day at work. For one, hard work is reserved for us mere mortals in order that we are able to pay the bills and enjoy the little pleasures in life and as for the above, these are firmly inbedded in the job description of ones Lady in Waiting don't you know? How jolly silly of me!
Monday, 22 November 2010
Thursday, 28 October 2010
14 weeks and 5 days. Wishing I was Julie Powell
I am today feeling rather sorry for myself. Am quite exhausted and feeling generally quite rotten.
My Husband however is being very helpful, kind and generally mindful of the fact that I can be a complete cow when I'm ill. Having prepared me a loving lunch of Chicken Super Noodles and Breaded chicken nuggets I cannot at this time complain about his attention to detail and to me.
He is himself currently on 'Gardening Leave' and as he himself exclaimed the other day 'surely gardening leave without a garden is just leave?'. Yes, he is almost as funny as me.
So, we are both currently sat on the sofa indulging in favourite things, reading and blogging whilst listening to classic albums from our youth. Starsailor to be exact which, in the current living room climate may have been a slightly depressing choice to say the least. Note to self, S Club 7 may have been a wiser choice.
Anyway, I have just watched Julie and Julia (see Wikipedia for further information) for the second time and am wondering how I will ever gain world wide blog exposure. I feel that if I continue to write to myself (and the Hill) I may begin to lose sight of why I started this in the first place - to prove to all that Modern Marriage is alive and kicking, that the ebb and flow of eternal betrothal is something that should be considered by the most cynical of us all.
We are 14 weeks and 5 days into our married life and very little has changed except now I am referred to as Mrs and when place in any kind of alphabetical order I am suddenly propelled nearer the back of the queue as it were.
Rather annoyingly my passport needs changing even though there are still 4YEARS!!!! remaining on my last one. Don't get me started about the £70 it is going to cost for a new one, I'm starting to feel a little resentful but will try to hold it back at all cost. I love this man.
In our current state we are extremely content to stay home and enjoy each others company and as I tap on these keys I am starting to wonder whether this particular post is actually going to be reader worthy at all. My point is however that married life can lack certain kinds of excitement, it is not necessarily all fireworks and canons at dusk. It is however being safe in the knowledge (SMUG ALERT) that there is an unspoken bond that goes way beyond any personable link that many of us may have.
He is however still peeing on the toilet seat though!
Inspired by the writing and blog of Julie Powell I am going to break out my new food processor and make my husband a delicious banana loaf for all his efforts in looking after me over the last nearly 15 weeks and especially today when I am feeling unwell. There is something awfully quaint about being this subservient so early on in our marriage but hey, it was that or the proverbial shelf. You do the math!
Off I go to my sink chain, marigolds on and dream of one day understanding exactly what my Nana has said all along. I don't care if you're at work all day, it is your job to make sure that dinners on the table. Right you are.
My Husband however is being very helpful, kind and generally mindful of the fact that I can be a complete cow when I'm ill. Having prepared me a loving lunch of Chicken Super Noodles and Breaded chicken nuggets I cannot at this time complain about his attention to detail and to me.
He is himself currently on 'Gardening Leave' and as he himself exclaimed the other day 'surely gardening leave without a garden is just leave?'. Yes, he is almost as funny as me.
So, we are both currently sat on the sofa indulging in favourite things, reading and blogging whilst listening to classic albums from our youth. Starsailor to be exact which, in the current living room climate may have been a slightly depressing choice to say the least. Note to self, S Club 7 may have been a wiser choice.
Anyway, I have just watched Julie and Julia (see Wikipedia for further information) for the second time and am wondering how I will ever gain world wide blog exposure. I feel that if I continue to write to myself (and the Hill) I may begin to lose sight of why I started this in the first place - to prove to all that Modern Marriage is alive and kicking, that the ebb and flow of eternal betrothal is something that should be considered by the most cynical of us all.
We are 14 weeks and 5 days into our married life and very little has changed except now I am referred to as Mrs and when place in any kind of alphabetical order I am suddenly propelled nearer the back of the queue as it were.
Rather annoyingly my passport needs changing even though there are still 4YEARS!!!! remaining on my last one. Don't get me started about the £70 it is going to cost for a new one, I'm starting to feel a little resentful but will try to hold it back at all cost. I love this man.
In our current state we are extremely content to stay home and enjoy each others company and as I tap on these keys I am starting to wonder whether this particular post is actually going to be reader worthy at all. My point is however that married life can lack certain kinds of excitement, it is not necessarily all fireworks and canons at dusk. It is however being safe in the knowledge (SMUG ALERT) that there is an unspoken bond that goes way beyond any personable link that many of us may have.
He is however still peeing on the toilet seat though!
Inspired by the writing and blog of Julie Powell I am going to break out my new food processor and make my husband a delicious banana loaf for all his efforts in looking after me over the last nearly 15 weeks and especially today when I am feeling unwell. There is something awfully quaint about being this subservient so early on in our marriage but hey, it was that or the proverbial shelf. You do the math!
Off I go to my sink chain, marigolds on and dream of one day understanding exactly what my Nana has said all along. I don't care if you're at work all day, it is your job to make sure that dinners on the table. Right you are.
Saturday, 9 October 2010
11 Weeks. Wife and Motivational Coach
The birthday gift arrived from Amazon yesterday. Even though it arrived within the predicted 3-5 days, it should be understood that the latter will be the actual. Also received second card from spaceswine.com (have decided I am not yet making money enough to fund blatant plugging of multi million corporations. However, have just realised that Amazon may have been given fairly generous mention). The card having been formulated online, over the channel, 'en Francais' has only served to remind me once more that I am quite old. My love to you F and K. Let no more be said about the day.
So here we are. 11weeks of marriage and a few games into the 'domestic' Rugby season. I would like at this point to take the opportunity to voice my concern at the use of the word 'domestic'. Let it be understood that whilst Mr T is off playing with his odd shaped balls (!!) there are no shelves being put up, bathrooms being cleaned and all trips to B&Q (oops) are reserved currently for a Sunday. That Mr Tuckley shows such commitment to one Long Buckby Rugby Club (deserved plug) is commendable, but this 'leisure pursuit' helps in no way domestically. Rant over!
Note: I have just realised that 'domestic Rugby' may only apply to the professional game but I feel it serves to highlight my concern all the same.
Anyway, I do believe that through a sense of marital duty I have become a big fan of the aforementioned Rugby Club. I will this afternoon be cheering from the side lines and my Rugby shirt order will be placed soon.
However, when my Husband was stood in the bedroom earlier musing over the game ahead, he asked what I thought (from a nerves point of view) it must be like to play professional and/or National Rugby. After careful consideration and much thought I exclaimed that he was too old to be either and that if he couldn't stand the pressure, he should get out of the kitchen. My devotion to this man is clear for the world to see.
Come On Buckby!
So here we are. 11weeks of marriage and a few games into the 'domestic' Rugby season. I would like at this point to take the opportunity to voice my concern at the use of the word 'domestic'. Let it be understood that whilst Mr T is off playing with his odd shaped balls (!!) there are no shelves being put up, bathrooms being cleaned and all trips to B&Q (oops) are reserved currently for a Sunday. That Mr Tuckley shows such commitment to one Long Buckby Rugby Club (deserved plug) is commendable, but this 'leisure pursuit' helps in no way domestically. Rant over!
Note: I have just realised that 'domestic Rugby' may only apply to the professional game but I feel it serves to highlight my concern all the same.
Anyway, I do believe that through a sense of marital duty I have become a big fan of the aforementioned Rugby Club. I will this afternoon be cheering from the side lines and my Rugby shirt order will be placed soon.
However, when my Husband was stood in the bedroom earlier musing over the game ahead, he asked what I thought (from a nerves point of view) it must be like to play professional and/or National Rugby. After careful consideration and much thought I exclaimed that he was too old to be either and that if he couldn't stand the pressure, he should get out of the kitchen. My devotion to this man is clear for the world to see.
Come On Buckby!
Tuesday, 5 October 2010
10 weeks 3 Days. Eve of my 33rd year of growing 'up and out'.
Whilst watching Eastenders I'm sat awaiting the wee small hours of the 6th October, 2010, my 33rd Birthday and for the first time, I'm not mad keen to celebrate.
My husband will be taking me to the races tomorrow and the promise of rain fills me with joy. I have fortunately purchased a new umbrella and have ensured that my kagoul is up to race track standards. All that remains is to go to Morrisons early doors for a bag of 50p's and I'll be ready to set the gambling world on fire. In keeping with the high energy theme of the day, I may even pack some sandwiches and a flask of tea. I'm sure I saw the blanket in the back of the car.......... right next to the green wellies, a 1988 Atlas of Great Britain and the AA's 100 Greatest Pub Walks For You and Your Dog. On reflection, not sure it was actually our car.
So the birthday, my first as a married lady. I have today been informed by Mr Tuckley that my birthday gift is 'in transit'. Amazon had better get there skates on.
I'm very fortunate that I am only 10 weeks and 3 days in to this state of Marital Bliss and most of the time my continuing gratitude toward this man allows me to overlook such trifling issues. I'm sure after 50 years of marriage a bunch of badly co ordinating carnations from the nearest service station will become my staple.
I should simply be grateful that this particular gift is so well travelled.
In his defence however, a delivery from a certain 'Personalised Card Company' was made today and should this blog ever make me any money I would like to commend Moon Pig on its efficient service. You could teach Amazon a thing or two.
So here's to the 6th October, 2010 and a very Happy Birthday to You Mrs Tuckley.
Oh no, The Wedding House is on Channel 4. 10 weeks and 3 Days in and I still feel like a pig in ............
xx
My husband will be taking me to the races tomorrow and the promise of rain fills me with joy. I have fortunately purchased a new umbrella and have ensured that my kagoul is up to race track standards. All that remains is to go to Morrisons early doors for a bag of 50p's and I'll be ready to set the gambling world on fire. In keeping with the high energy theme of the day, I may even pack some sandwiches and a flask of tea. I'm sure I saw the blanket in the back of the car.......... right next to the green wellies, a 1988 Atlas of Great Britain and the AA's 100 Greatest Pub Walks For You and Your Dog. On reflection, not sure it was actually our car.
So the birthday, my first as a married lady. I have today been informed by Mr Tuckley that my birthday gift is 'in transit'. Amazon had better get there skates on.
I'm very fortunate that I am only 10 weeks and 3 days in to this state of Marital Bliss and most of the time my continuing gratitude toward this man allows me to overlook such trifling issues. I'm sure after 50 years of marriage a bunch of badly co ordinating carnations from the nearest service station will become my staple.
I should simply be grateful that this particular gift is so well travelled.
In his defence however, a delivery from a certain 'Personalised Card Company' was made today and should this blog ever make me any money I would like to commend Moon Pig on its efficient service. You could teach Amazon a thing or two.
So here's to the 6th October, 2010 and a very Happy Birthday to You Mrs Tuckley.
Oh no, The Wedding House is on Channel 4. 10 weeks and 3 Days in and I still feel like a pig in ............
xx
Sunday, 3 October 2010
10 weeks and One Day
I've now been married for 10 weeks and One Day.
Life is good, we are still laughing lots and everything is very much how I'd have hoped it to be so early on.
There is still the obligatory 'peeing on toilet seat' (him, not me) but generally the transition into married life and eternal tolerance appears intitially smooth.
On reflection, of the preceeding 3 years, proposal and wonderful Wedding Day, I guess I feel quite divided by the idea of being a married lady. Without a whiff of negativity, I am glad that I met and married a (mostly :-)) wonderful man, ruggishly handsome, kind and with a nice bottom. However, he will tell you that I'm probably just glad to have been taken off the proverbial 'shelf' and without suggesting that being single would not have been a perfectly viable life choice, I hate to admit that he may be right. Cue groans from all those strong women who hate smug-married, co-dependent door mats. Just wipe your feet on the way out Ladies.
To speak anecdotally of my new life I'd like to begin with quite a strange tale. The other day, Mr Tuckley felt it funny to lie in bed and pretend he was dead. I did not however share his humour on this particular morning. I think in his infinite wisdon he was just trying to get the reaction of a devoted wife to a particularly adverse and challenging situation. He got it! Hot sweats and shouting which culminated in me sat on the (pee free) toilet seat with my heart in my mouth. What an arse! The fine tuning of a marriage may well be a long process, one that only a true devotee to a new husband could possibly contemplate.
For better or worse I will continue to understand and shape this man into someone I will one day fondly remember to other ladies in the Co Op. Yes I will out-live him (obviously if divorce and/or beheading is avoided). It may be a little early in the relationship to begin talking in such a morbid way but when at the age of 40 he becomes surprise successor to Sir Alex Ferguson's throne, I will in later life have something to live for.
Life is good, we are still laughing lots and everything is very much how I'd have hoped it to be so early on.
There is still the obligatory 'peeing on toilet seat' (him, not me) but generally the transition into married life and eternal tolerance appears intitially smooth.
On reflection, of the preceeding 3 years, proposal and wonderful Wedding Day, I guess I feel quite divided by the idea of being a married lady. Without a whiff of negativity, I am glad that I met and married a (mostly :-)) wonderful man, ruggishly handsome, kind and with a nice bottom. However, he will tell you that I'm probably just glad to have been taken off the proverbial 'shelf' and without suggesting that being single would not have been a perfectly viable life choice, I hate to admit that he may be right. Cue groans from all those strong women who hate smug-married, co-dependent door mats. Just wipe your feet on the way out Ladies.
To speak anecdotally of my new life I'd like to begin with quite a strange tale. The other day, Mr Tuckley felt it funny to lie in bed and pretend he was dead. I did not however share his humour on this particular morning. I think in his infinite wisdon he was just trying to get the reaction of a devoted wife to a particularly adverse and challenging situation. He got it! Hot sweats and shouting which culminated in me sat on the (pee free) toilet seat with my heart in my mouth. What an arse! The fine tuning of a marriage may well be a long process, one that only a true devotee to a new husband could possibly contemplate.
For better or worse I will continue to understand and shape this man into someone I will one day fondly remember to other ladies in the Co Op. Yes I will out-live him (obviously if divorce and/or beheading is avoided). It may be a little early in the relationship to begin talking in such a morbid way but when at the age of 40 he becomes surprise successor to Sir Alex Ferguson's throne, I will in later life have something to live for.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)