Phew!

It seems so easy to fall out of a habit. Then it is hard to get back into the habit. If only bad habits didn't work the other way around.

It's Wednesday, and we have about 10 days til W-Day. All of a sudden my best hopes of a stress-free organisation of our wedding seem pie-in-the-sky. I was busy thinking about Friday night/Saturday logistics while riding to work the other morning, and I suddenly realised that I was going past the junction with the A167. Did I just pass the petrol garage? OH MY GOD I just drove past the petrol station. Please God let me make it to the next garage, I really don't want to have to push this bike 5 miles to the next town.

Reminder to self: fill the car up with petrol on Friday morning to prevent this happening on Saturday.

This weekend doesn't seem to exist. The only Friday, Saturday and Sunday in my near future are the ones of the wedding weekend. Luckily, work is even slower than normal. I spent a good portion of day making a super-detailed packing list so I don't forget anything when we leave home on Friday.

Reminder to self: put board games on the packing list.

I did manage to notice the beautiful sunset as I drove home tonight, and dragged himself out up the hill for a walk and a chance to watch the sky change. Then we came home to the cajun wraps he had cooked, and we are now deciding on our music for the ceremony.

Would it be so awful if we kicked out 'here comes the bride' in favour of 'smack my bitch up'?  Does 'closer' by NIN count as religious? Would our friends perform their excellent version of 'fuck her gently' once the grandparents have retired for the night?

Reminder to self: look again on ebay for hungry hippos game.

Anyway, the point is, I did make it to the petrol station without having to push the bike. Phew!

We made it!

Our first brownie session without the old leaders! The only injury was a loose tooth falling out. We had a new starter without any hitches. They all had lots of ideas for what they wanted to do this coming year, from simple baking and badges, right though to round the world trips and bunjee jumping. A tad adventurous I feel, but have to give them points for imagination!

I bought a couple of nice pasties today in town. Mediterranean veg and cheese (or something) for me and steak and stilton for him. Then I left them in the fridge in the office. Instead, we went out to town for dinner. Turns out 'spoons do a pretty good butternut squash risotto at the moment. Yum.

I really must get ready for bed, as I have a bit of a long day ahead tomorrow.

Starting to feel the need

I guess it is time to be honest with myself. I am starting to look forward to having kids. Not in the 'yeah, it will be kinda cool one day' way, but in the 'when is the soonest I can get pregnant' way. That's kind of scary. There is a no-way-no-how restriction on me at the moment as I just had an MMR jab, and if I get pregnant in the next 6 months there is a risk of birth deformities. As I say, no-way-no-how. Then the other things preying on my mind are 'stuff.' I cannot deny being ambitious, and there are some things I really want to achieve before we have kids. Would you like a list?

Things I want to do before I have kids:
- Buy a house in a nice area near good schools
- Have a job I can work from home
- Travel around Europe on motorbikes with Mr SC
- See Thailand, and a monsoon
- Learn to take nice photos

- Have a wardrobe of clothes I like

- Be in the habit of looking presentable when I leave the house

- Have a house that is decorated the way I like
- Refresh my German skills, so I can make some attempt to help my kids not be ignorant English-speakers
- Have had a few years of just me and Mr SC as a married couple

That is something of a list isn't it. Some things I am happy to strike through on the basis that it is just me being silly and conforming to society's supermum fetish, like the stuff about my wardrobe, looking presentable, home decor and German items.  Others are non-negotiable, like the house-buying bit. I really hate renting. I hate not being able to paint walls, redo the skanky bathroom tiles, rip out the kitchen, install a back boiler, fix the windows and doors and so on. I know all this can be done with kids there, because I lived through it in my own childhood.

I don't mind altering the travel bits, so that we can do them with kids. Motorbikes wouldn't be practical, but an old VW bus might be. Thailand and the like could be done with kids past toddler stage. Maybe I could narrow down the 'just us' years a bit, since we have already lived together for two years, and have at least one more on our own once we are married. (see the bit about the MMR)

The other major motivator for having kids sooner rather than later is Mr SC himself. He is 10 years older than me, and we both want for him to not be an 'old' dad. So really, we need to get ourselves in gear and work towards buying a house. Which sounds great, but there is a slight hitch there, what with Mr SC going back to college and all. A couple more years of living on my wage alone, not really being able to save, and no chance of me being able to give up my day job in order to try working from home.

I don't mean to whinge, but I am starting to get impatient, and need to remind myself why I must wait. Anyway, time to stop moaning and get on with dealing with all the stuff I need to get sorted before we get married!

I just have to add this

This has to be about the most amazing thing I have seen in ages!

Just had to share. Now I wonder if I can train next door's sheepdogs sufficiently to do that?

New improved formula: with added resolve

Once again, time has run away with me. Having spent two weekends ago with my parents visiting us here, and then visiting them in Surrey last weekend, I am home alone this weekend as Mr SC has decided to go camping with friends this weekend. 

I won't say I am not disappointed to be abandoned to my own devices while he is off gallivanting, but it does give me time to finish our wedding invites, chill out listening to music he doesn't like and possibly even eat all the ice cream without his interference....

Since two weeks ago, not a great deal has happened in my world. Work carries on as normal, there is only six weeks left to the wedding, I have a work lunch 'do' on Tuesday coming. Him indoors meanwhile, has decided that he wants to go back to college. I'm all in favour, as long as he throws his all into it. And it would be kinda good if he could get a part-time job to fit around it.

What else? Oh yeah, brownies start back for the Autumn on Monday. Somewhat nervous about that, but I'm sure M and I will cope with 18 girls for just over an hour. Yeah. Definitely.

So today, I was on the phone to my mum, sitting on the sofa and contemplating coffee and toast, when my neighbour S knocked. I knew I had to move our old car from their field into the yard, but was hoping I would be able to do it this afternoon. Like once I had got dressed and all that. Anyway, went up to the yard to find out where it needed to go, but S was still in the house, and J didn't know. So I just did the sensible thing and emptied the stuff that was useful into a wheelbarrow and hauled it home.

Back in the house, I sat down with my coffee, and Mr SC rang from camp, having just woken up. Yeah. Just woken up, when I had already started clearing up shit that I was nagging him to do all this week. He had the nerve to ask me to try to drain out the petrol tank, since it had about half a tank of petrol in it still. I don't have a pipe to siphon it with, so he tells me that I can get under the car, disconnect the fuel pipe and drain it into some petrol tanks that are in the garage. Yeah. Like that is going to happen. Let's just say that I am looking forward to some serious pampering on Sunday night when he gets home. 

Progress report

So following last weekend's events, I finally feel up to a progress report. Sunday night we had dinner with my in-laws and Mr SC's in-laws for the first time. Yes, in three years of relationship, we finally got our parents together to meet almost two months before our wedding. However, Saturday morning's events were taboo, as Mr SC does not want his family to worry. Great.

On Tuesday, a last minute appointment at the Docs had him sent home with promises of a referral to a headache clinic, a second appointment for Friday, some hefty painkillers and advice to avoid codeine based painkillers. Friday rolled around, with exertion based headaches still happening, but the hefty painkillers being pretty rapid to help. This time he has been sent home with beta-blockers and an appointment for next Friday again. I won't say I am not concerned still, but at least both Mr SC and the medical profession are taking it seriously.

At work, it seems that we are about to enter another slow period. I have not got much sitting on my desk, and even less in the way of prospective work. I really want to look into building up some sort of business from home, but can never decide what would suit me. I guess the joy of working for myself would be that I wouldn't have to pick just one route to go down. As soon as I get my wedding invites finished, I am going to throw myself into some etsy projects. Remind me of that please!

In the last week, Mr SC has really knuckled down and sorted out the house. The bathroom and kitchen are clean, the spare room is ready for my parents to come and stay, the lounge is tidy, and the washing pile isn't out of control. Wow!

I don't like this room.

This morning I write to you from a room in my favourite hotel. Mr SC and I are having a long weekend break. We came down Thursday afternoon after I took a half day at work, settled into our room and then went out for dinner at an Indian restaurant. He had chicken rogan josh to my veggie spinach curry that I cannot remember the name of, and we shared a rice. Back at the hotel we had a spa bath, and then watched a movie in our room. (Or Mr SC watched it while I fell asleep half way through.) Our room is lovely, with great views over the valley, a comfy bed, lots of space to walk about in and a supply of chocolate should it ever be needed.

On Friday we tackled the huge cooked breakfast you get here. I was defeated for the first time and couldn't eat more than two thirds of it. I love how they don't rely on veggie bacon and baked beans in their breakfasts here. You get a full plate with a lot of different flavours and not a lot of soya. The coffee is great too, and we felt properly set up for a day of walking along the river. After our ramble, we came back for a movie, scrabble and a couple of bottles of local cider. Lovely.

Yesterday morning, Mr SC didn't feel up to eating breakfast, but came and sat with me. Stomach problems, but he managed some coffee and juice. Afterwards, we went back upstairs to see if I could make him feel better. I'm sure you know where this is going. To cut to the chase, just as we reach the grand finale, Mr SC starts screaming in pain. He can barely articulate through the agony that he feels pressure in head like it is going to explode. It doesn't ease, and he is rolling on the bed in agony. I am scared witless, and want to take him to hospital. The pressure is making him cry in pain, and I decide to call an ambulance.

Mr SC is having trouble breathing, and feels his fingers get pins and needles, as well as his face while I stay on the phone to the emergency services. Another guest at the hotel stays with us, while her friend goes to the front door to wait for the ambulance. Mr SC keeps turning and rolling, holding his head and hyperventilating; we hear the siren of the ambulance in the distance, knowing it must come up the hill and along the single track lane before it reaches us. I have never been so terrified in my entire life. I just need Mr SC to hang on until someone who knows how to help gets here.

Minutes drag until finally the crew arrive, and panic can ebb into concern. Hyperventilation is calmed, and my worst fears change. It isn't a heart attack. It might be a small brain hemorrhage. We must go to hospital and he may need a CAT scan. As I follow the ambulance to A&E, I must reassure myself constantly that if it took a turn that they would have the sirens on and leave me to find my way in the car behind.

Parked up, I run across the car park to find that he has slept most of the journey. Light hurts, he is vacant, shocked and in pain, but he is in good hands. Finally, in a cubicle in A&E after paracetemol and with blood pressure returning to normal, he starts to come around. Stupid arsehole feels better and wants to leave before the doctor even checks him out. Mention of CAT scans, hemorrhaging and what I will do if he tries changes his mind.

The Doctor finally comes in, and after some tests agrees that he should be OK, but I must keep an eye over the next few days. Any sudden headache, headache not eased by paracetemol, vacancy or loss of consciousness must take him back to the hospital. I live in fear of being stranded for the next few days, but thanking my lucky stars that he is still here to scare the shit out of me.