Blogeens, I am going on HOLIDAYS. Yes, that's right. But when I come back it is weddings a go-go so you can look forward to a flurry of bouquets, buttonholes, centrepieces, garlands, and lots more besides on my return.
Usually I forget to take photos because I am in such a flap about getting everything done, and loading up, and making sure I haven't forgotten anything, and I have the best man's mobile number, and I've got a spare bit of this that and the other in case suddenly 52 people who previously weren't coming arrive anyway and a new table needs to be set up (this has happened!). Then I have to work out how to drive to either some beautiful venue in a village named Obscure-under-Wherethehell, or, the opposite of that, some incredibly famous, trust owned, national treasure of a venue, where every brick has been sneezed on by Henry the VIII, every sink has been personally unplugged by Charles Darwin, and I am followed around by a staff member on the verge of a nervous breakdown, screaming "You can't park THERE! That's the tomb of Saint Francis of Asisi!!!" (this has not happened).
But I will try to not forget to get snap happy, even when I'm desecrating national monuments in the name of floristry. I shall leave you with some photos tooken round the garden this evening.
But I will try to not forget to get snap happy, even when I'm desecrating national monuments in the name of floristry. I shall leave you with some photos tooken round the garden this evening.
