An unexpected visitor in my bed

Not THAT type of visitor, get yer minds out of the gutter.


So. A long weekend just gone and I'll be honest, it was pretty crap. The weather, for a start, did not cooperate. It was rainy and windy and disgusting, and frankly i didn't want to leave the house. Jo was away in New Zealand for his birthday - by the way, Happy Birthday Jo! - and things weren't much better over there. Apart from the blistering cold, he had earthquakes and volcanic ash to deal with, so i suppose in comparison, my weekend was a piece of cake.


Still, there was some drama. Imagine my surprise when i heard a banging on the door at 4 in the morning. I thought i was dreaming actually, but the banging was incessant and i realised no, it was for reals. I went to the door and the long and the short of it was that someone needed to watch Jack for the rest of the night. And that someone was me.


"Err, should i come to your place...?" I asked, bleary-eyed and still somewhat confused.

"Oh no, don't worry. He's asleep. Just stick him in your bed."

"Err....OK...."


Before i had time to blink he was unceremoniously dumped in Jo's usual place, and I was lying awake in the dark coming to terms with the fact that i wouldn't be going back to sleep any time soon, no matter how desperately i wanted to.


And it wasn't because i was worried about squashing him, by the way. No no, i would have happily fallen back asleep if it wasn't for his CONSTANT MOVEMENT. Arms everywhere, legs kicking me, tossing and turning, and the coughing, MY GOD THE COUGHING. How he didn't wake himself up, I'll never know. Don't be fooled by this sweet face:

...because I'm telling you, the kid did NOT stop moving. Next thing i knew it was 7am and he was awake. He looked up and quickly realised he wasn't in Kansas anymore. Then he saw me - and started giggling.


"Am i really here?" was his first question, followed up with "Where's Jo sleeping?"


I confirmed he was, indeed, in my bed, and that we were having a sleep-over. Jo, thankfully, was back home with his mummy and daddy. Three in a bed just doesn't do it for me.


"Did my Mummy say I was allowed to be here?" he asked (concerned for himself, not for me by the way.)


"Oh yes, she said it was OK."


"Are you sure? Did she say it?" I had to laugh. What did he think, that i snuck over and plucked him from his bed to come spend the night?


"Of course I'm sure. Its totally fine."


He wanted to watch cartoons after that, "Together, you can be under the blankets with me," (oh, the generosity). I haven't watched kids cartoons in the morning for ages - obviously my preference is not to be awake before noon on the weekend - but let me tell you, they pump those ads towards the kiddies alright. Every single toy imaginable was advertised, and i endured countless rounds of "Can you buy me that? Can you buy me that?" And sometimes specifics like "I want the blue one not the red one."


I agreed to it all of course, with no intention of following through.

Apart from that excitement, and in between worrying about Jo not getting home from NZ due to Chilean volcanic ash (WHAT?) or being crushed in yet another Christchurch earthquake, I mainly stuck to the house. Maria and I decided we would make Jo a birthday cake (because if we made a cake, he surely had to make it home to eat it right?).


I wanted to lick the spoon, but Jack got to it first, little sneak.

It was a good thing we made the damn thing though, because he DID make it home in the end - thanks to Virgin, who still decided to fly, hurrah! I'm thrilled he didn't book his flights with Jetstar, or else he'd still be there. I must say, i feel awfully sorry for everyone still stuck waiting at the airport - especially if they have husbands or children they want to get home to, poor things.


In other news, i have a cold and I'm sick of the rain. Come back sunshine!! I miss you!!

The culinary palate of a three year old

On Sunday, we played parents and babysat Jack.

 

 

Actually, it was a last minute thing. And I'd already promised my stomach brunch. Since I'm not one to let a small, stubborn child spoil my breakfast plans, I decided we'd just go ahead and take the kid with us. In fact, i totally got into the urban-mom thing. Here i am, decked out with the ultimate accessory - a red pram. I look cool right? But here's the thing - pushing a pram around Crows Nest is not as fun as the other mummy's make it look. Actually, its friggen hard work. I spent most of our walk pleading with Jo to swap places. "What if you just push it up this hill? Huh? Then I'll take over again, I SWEAR!"

 

 

 

Our destination was St Malo Bakery in Crows Nest, which is one of my favourite places to eat around here. I left Jo to deal with the pram (I mean shouldn't they have parking bays, like every other method of transportation in this city?????) while i took orders.

"Jack, what do you want to eat?"

He looks at the menu, as if he can actually read the choices available, before announcing (with some authority): "I want a brioche with jam and butter."

A brioche? Really?

Jo cuts in. "What's a brioche?" I realise my three year old Godson has a more advanced palate than my husband.

"I don't think they have brioches here." I say.

But Jack remains unperturbed. "Then I'll have a croissant. With jam and butter."

I ask him if he wants some juice, which he does. "What flavour?"

"Blood orange flavour."

Jo nearly falls off his chair. Brioche, croissant, blood orange juice? What can I say, the kid should have been born in France.

Here's the boys, enjoying their food...

And here's Jack enjoying his Jam, which he prefers to eat straight. No pastry necessary. Although he offered to share half of his croissant with Jo, he claimed full rights to all condiments.

 

 

 

The kid and me. We love each other really.

Monday randoms

One: Proof of Marriage! Two: A happy reunion :) Three: A taste of Vanuatu.

Notes:

Secret Diary of a Call Girl. This is a strangely addictive show, despite the fact that it stars Billie Piper (what were her big hit again?) I've just finished season 2, with season 3 waiting in the wings. I mean its about an "escort" (which we all know is a polite way of saying high class hooker), so maybe that's the appeal. Not to say that prostitution is appealing to me in any way. Not exactly. But i always walked the risky line right?

Work. WHAT is it good for? Meh, fine, it funds my life. Except that i really, really wanna be back on holidays, and I'm desperately trying to scheme a way to have some more time off. The fact that i have no annual leave left WILL NOT DETER ME!

We have movie vouchers that need to be used up in the next four days, and there are literally no movies that i want to see, which is a first. Actually none. It's so bad I'd consider Rango. What a disappointment.

My 'books-to-read' have dwindled down to a mere TEN! The hugest of achievements. I mean the shelf is looking almost bare, which is thrilling. On the clothes front, for various reasons I'm trying to buy very little, but the fact was i needed new pants. So i picked up two pairs over the weekend. But i will not buy boots this winter. I will not.

I'm a teeny tiny bit busy...

...but I'm still taking the time to write. Because it clears my head and i hope in years to come i can look back and remember all the stuff i used to do when i was young and free and unmarried... *winks*




This post is going to be all over the place. As always, we've been supremely busy - and not just with wedding stuff. I'm not one to let my social life suffer for anything. There's been lots of fun in the air, despite the stress of organising a wedding. For example, Valentines Day. We're not usually Valentines Day people, because it's a bloody huge rip off if you ask me. Flowers magically triple in price, and most people i know agree that you don't need one set day in the year to show your someone special that you love them. All the same, Jo was a doll and got us tickets to see Breakfast at Tiffany's at the Orpheum, my most favourite cinema in Sydney, and it was quite a lovely evening. We rushed home for eggs on toast (romantic dinner, no?) and then hightailed it to the Orpheum for some champagne before the movie. Inside, it looks like this:








So you can see why i love it. And of course, Audrey Hepburn has a face that deserves to be watched on the big screen.




Then, of course, there's all the children in my life. It's a rather convenient thing, (when you love kids but really aren't in the mood to pop any of your own out), to have family that so obligingly provide wonderful children at your disposal whenever you please. There's my little superheros, for a start, who constantly make me laugh with their honesty.

Jack has been reunited with his old friend Lilo (known to the rest of us as Leah, Maid of Honour extraordinaire), back from the UK for the wedding. Maria asked him the other day if he was ready to marry me soon. "No", he said, but he'd be happy to marry Lilo. Said Maria: "You tell Ornella next time you see her that you don't want to marry her, you want to marry Lilo." He sighed, shook his head, and said "Well. She won't be very happy."

I mean. The kid comes out with some gold. And then there's the puker, who's bubbly personality is the carbon copy of his mother. He's one of those babies that love being around people - which makes bedtime rather a bore. And let me tell you, his screams are high pitched and persistent. He doesn't give in easily. It's as if he's saying "WHAT THE HELL??? YOU'RE PUTTING ME TO BED WHEN WE HAVE COMPANY??? IS THIS A JOKE??? MUM?? IS THIS A JOKE, FOR REALS??" Alas Pukes, it's no joke.

Hmm. What else. We've seen some good movies - True Grit, for example. What's that? Didn't think i was the cowboy type, you say? OK, it's a western, fine. But it's a good one! I really had no idea what it was about, so maybe having no expectations helped. But i thought it was excellent. The young girl in it, i think her name is Hailee Steinfeld, she was amazing. She plays a girl who's father was killed by an outlaw - and now she wants him brought to justice. So she hires a washed up old Marshall (played by Jeff Bridges) to go out and find the killer, and bring him in. With her help, of course. Honestly, it was top notch performances by everyone - including Matt Damon, who plays a Texas ranger on a hunt of his own. Give it a chance people.

We also finally got around to watching The Social Network. That was great too actually, i can understand now why everyones been raving about it. Though i still find it weird that such a current issue has already been made into a movie.

And of course there's the Oscars. Two words for that: train. wreck. I mean, James Franco? What the hell? Anne Hathaway, to her credit, gave it a pretty good shot. I felt sorry for her actually. She talked without appearing to read from an autocue, which i thought was a positive start. And the girl can sing, I'll give her that. But that Franco kid, he really let her down. He looked grey and sweaty and drugged up, and totally disinterested in the whole thing. Neither of them should have been given the job. That's my two cents.

OH, and this book - Room, by Emma Donoghue. I literally couldn't put it down. Reckon i read it in 48 hours, if not less. READ IT PEOPLE! It's so good. It's narrated by a 5 year old boy called Jack. He's lived his whole life inside one, tiny room - never been outside, never known another life but the one inside those four walls. The reason for this is that his mother has been held captive for the last 7 years by her abductor - who is also Jack's father. It's sort of a Joseph Fritzl situation. I felt claustrophobic just reading it. What makes the book so poignant is the fact that it IS narrated by the child, who doesn't know any other life. His friends are the table, the chairs, the stove, the bed. The sight of any living thing - ant, spider - sends him into spasms of joy. And yet he's happy, and doesn't understand why his mother would ever want to leave what is essentially the only home he's ever known. Anyway, that's all I'm going to say. READ. IT.

I want to tell you about my hens weekend in the Hunter Valley, but i don't have any photo's yet, so that might have to wait. Otherwise, this has been my last week at work, yay, so it's been ridiculously busy. But as of today, Friday, I'm DONE for three and a half weeks, and i can't tell you how good that feels. It's been a frenzy of preparations for the wedding of course - we're only a week out, and I'm so excited about what's going to be, I'll call it now, an awesome party. And then, holidays! Woooooot! Vanuatu, for ten relaxing days. I can't wait.

But more than anything, I'm just so excited to be marrying my best friend in the whole world - its nice to know you're going to be spending your life with someone you actually have so much fun with, every day.

A Farm Party

For Jack's birthday this year, Maria and I put our heads together and decided we'd do a themed party. Since the pest loves animals so much, we thought a farm party would be fun for a bunch of three year olds. And apart from being a thousand degrees out that day, it turned out a treat - the little mobile farm was a great success. The kids got to learn about all the animals, and were able to feed and pet them (under supervision, of course).









The lovely ladies who ran the whole thing were very patient - unlike me. The heat was driving me up the wall, and it was a MORNING party. So i admit, i may or may not have been slightly snappy. Possibly. So sue me! Everyones sweating and there are a million kids who want to pee and eat and pet the sheep and get in the pen and out of the pen and be read stories...bah. BAH! I just wanted to eat my egg roll in peace. It was nice to see Jack so excited though. Winner!

Zara was the most fearless of them all. Patting the sheep was not enough. She wanted to ride the damn thing.

The cake itself was awesome, made by Jack's equally awesome (and very handy in the kitchen) neighbour Jenna. Look! A farm cake! I think about what Maria and I would have accomplished if we'd been set the task of making this thing. In my vision, we are staring helplessly at both a bowl of green sludge and an empty bottle of champagne. We may or may not have been responsible for both. Basically, it's lucky we have Jenna to do the baking. (She even did the animals. I am beyond impressed. They look exactly like they're supposed to look! I can't even DRAW a cow, let alone make one out of....whatever the hell that stuff is.)

That little sign on the cake says "Jack's farm - Est. 2008". I mean. The girl thought of everything. By the way, have you noticed this new smile of Jack's? The bottom teeth seem to be a main feature. What's that about kid?

I will say this - his confidence, for a three year old, is pretty amazing. I know I'm biased. But really, it is. After he blew his candles out, he got up on that chair and actually said a speech. In front of a room full of people. "Thank you for coming to my party and for my presents, and thank you to mummy and daddy for giving me a party." THAT was the speech! WTF? What three year old does that?? I mean he had a bit of prodding, fair enough, but still. Even i was proud.

So, more birthday celebrations are over for another year. Hard to believe in a couple more years he'll be in school (HA - that'll be a rude shock to his system. Structure? Rules? What??) And now, I'm off to watch Bridezillas. Don't judge till you've seen it. Everyone loves a psycho-bride.

End of January?? What??

How is that possible? Too busy, that's the bloody problem, and this week was no exception. It was Jack's birthday on Wednesday, so we went over for dinner and cake and all that. His real birthday party isn't until this weekend, and it's featuring a special surprise from me and Maria. More on that next week! As for Wednesday, for an impromptu party there sure were plenty of kids in attendance. Christ. Girls, boys, babies - every age bracket was accounted for. There really was nowhere to hide. So i made the best of it and stuck with the ones i knew and loved.

Christian, Raffael and me

In fact, it wasn't just Jack's birthday - it was his cousin William's too. Which is why there were about a billion kids - double the festivities. William was turning two, so still slightly overwhelmed by it all. But turning three, Jack had a better idea of what birthdays are all about - presents. And lets be honest - the kid threw aside anything that wasn't a toy or DVD. Little shit.

Birthday cakes!

Happy birthday to me!

William cuts the cake with his mama

Kid heaven

By the time Friday rolled around, i was ready for a drink. Alas for me and everyone around me, because drink i did. A good friend from work was leaving (she's travelling the world for 6 months, lucky bugger), so we decided heading to the pub early was in order. First bottle of wine was consumed by 4.30 in the afternoon, and Lord knows that happened after that. I know i got home past midnight - which means we basically drank for a full working day. Which is a phenomenal effort, and i applaud it, and i was punished for it on Saturday BELIEVE ME. My body can no longer cope with all-night benders. Am i getting old??? How did i manage that sort of drinking TWICE every weekend a mere few years ago?? Vague snippets of the night are coming back to me as the days pass (like demanding someone go and get me a burger - and actually, i think someone did), which is always funny. Its like you're in a half-dream - did that really happen, or am i imagining it? Good times.

Me and Wing-Sze, world traveller extraordinaire, who i will MISS!!

George, me and WS - i can't believe our trio has been so rudely split. Bah. Bah!

On the other hand, waking up early the next day to meet Maria in Newtown and look for wedding favours was NOT a happy moment. Really. Was. Not.

I was parched, for starters, and no amount of water would quench my thirst. Second, it was like a hundred degrees outside, so all i did for three hours was sweat out everything I'd consumed the night before. Thirdly, we were supposed to meet for breakfast, but Maria was late, so i had to eat alone like a loser, AND, i really wanted greasy bacon and eggs for breakfast, but I've vowed off eating pork, so i had to have mushrooms instead. Not the fat factor i was after. And it was one of those situations where I'd asked for two menus because i thought there would be two of us. So the waiter brings two menus and two water glasses and two sets of cutlery. And then Maria doesn't show, which is OK, but to the waiter, it looked like I'd been totally ditched, probably by a guy. "My cousin's running really late..." i told him feebly when i went to pay. And he gives me this sympathetic look like "Yeah, sure. See it all the time. But OK, you're cousin's late, whatevs..."

To top it off, we ended up sitting for what felt like an eternity with this lady talking about wedding favours when all i wanted to do was go to the toilet. When i finally couldn't hold it any more, i asked whether there was one available even though i could see there wasn't. She said she had one out the back, but that it was a bit "rustic". HA! Rustic?? Rustic means CHARMING, lady! Not pitch-black, spider-infested, outback dunny with mouldy toilet paper and a yellow-stained floor. But i was busting so i had to go, i had to. And really, after that, all i wanted to do was go back home and go to bed. Thank goodness I actually found some favours i liked after all that, so it was kind of worth it, just.

By Sunday i was buggered, but it was a beautiful day and we were heading off for a BBQ with my cousins. They have three little kids who are a hoot, and we love seeing them, so it was a nice afternoon.

Raffael and Christian with their vegetable garden

Fish on the barbie for lunch, DELICIOUS.

Jo, Raffy and Christian reading books

Later that afternoon, Jo and my Dad were headed off to the cricket, so Mum and I decided to go to the movies to see Black Swan. Obviously it's been getting a lot of buzz, so we were interested to see whether it would live up to the hype.

Which it kind of did. I'm not sure what i expected from it in hindsight actually. It's hard to put it in a genre category, but i guess you could call it part thriller, part horror. Natalie Portman plays Nina, a ballerina who's waiting for her big moment - and it comes when she wins the lead in Swan Lake. Her nervous and unsure personality is evident from the start, but once the pressure of the role sets in, and we learn more about her home life, the cracks in her mental state begin to show. From there, the audience is left to guess what's real and what isn't. We see it all through Nina's eyes, and that's what i liked best about the movie - i felt like i understood her paranoia and delusions because i was seeing them for myself, i thought they were real too. When it turned out they weren't, i felt her confusion because it was also my own. I was definitely on the edge of my seat for the whole movie. On the other hand. It was so intense and confronting in its realism that I was almost uncomfortable watching it. And i am no prude by any means, but there were some scenes where i was like "Geez. That's...weird..." So I'm not sure its for everyone. From an artistic perspective, it's beautifully staged and shot. But it's very dark, and its MA rating is appropriate. I'm still feeling a little unnerved and disturbed by it, even a couple of days later.

Public holiday tomorrow, so no work for me! I'll keep you posted on how my Australia Day turns out - most likely i will sleep, eat, watch trash TV with the aircon on high, sleep, attend a BBQ, then sleep. Not too shabby if you ask me.

Misshapen halos and mischevious grins

My blog post title today comes from a poem about little boys, and pretty much sums up the pest perfectly. He is equal parts naughty and nice, sugar and spice, and that's just the way we like him.

I'm talking about Jack because today is his third birthday. There's something about that age, three. It's like you cross a magical threshold into big-boyhood. All little kids who turn three say they're now a big boy or girl, and yes, that's what Jack's telling anyone who'll listen at the moment. "I'm fwee. I'm a big boy now. I do poos in the toilet." Because when you're three, your biggest accomplishment probably IS doing a poo in the toilet. (Well done kid. Happy to see that life skill can finally be crossed off the list.)

Poo jokes aside, I'm astonished at how much he's changed this year. His talking was always good, but even I look up in surprise sometimes at the sentences that come out his mouth. I know I'm bias, but there's no denying it - the kid's smart. (What's that? He takes after me? Well. I didn't want to say anything...) His memory is second to none, he says words that I'm sure he's never heard before, and he is endearingly funny without knowing it. If you've had a bad day, go and spend an hour with Jack. I promise you'll be in stitches by the end - and you'll feel about a billion times better. Yep - Jack is my bad-day remedy, my go-to guy when things get a bit tough. He's pretty awesome like that.

Of course, the split personality of a two year old has meant that this has also been the year of the tantrum. So actually, you should call before you visit. Cause if the kid's in a bad mood, you may as well just stay home. I've seen some spectacular fits of hysteria in the last few months. If he hasn't slept and he's in a bad mood, it's a sight to behold. I should start selling tickets. It's the staying-power of the tears that never ceases to amaze me - there's actually no break in crying for like 30 minutes at a time. HOW is this possible?? More importantly, WHY is this possible?? Unlike the tickle me elmo, there seems to be no 'off' button - so when the tantrum cyclone hits, i tend to just run for the door. Somewhere else to be and all that.

The last 12 months have also revealed some of Jack's more specialised talents. Like singing. The kid loves to sing. Put him in front of a microphone (and trust me, we have), and its like he BECOMES a rock star. The creative genius simply cannot be contained. His favourite song right now is the Glee mash up of Confessions/It's My Life. I specifically mention the Glee thing because we HAVE in fact tried to play him the original Bon Jovi version of It's My Life, and he hates it. Can't stand to have it on for more than three seconds. After that, he claims his ears hurt, and we have to turn it off. This leads me to Jack's second specialised talent: lying.

The lies roll off his tongue like rain off a ducks back. Maria tries to tell us that lying is a sign of intelligence, a fact i believe I've mentioned here before. But lets not delude ourselves. Lying just means he's figured out how to get away with stuff. It's going to become a very useful tool at pre-school. I'm almost proud when i think of all the ways he's gonna dupe those other stupid kids *sniggers* Anyway, he's a liar, and Ive spend long minutes listening to stories about non-existent needles that non-existent ant doctors have given him, or about the dinner he supposedly ate. Or being told that he did not in fact make that mess, it was the other kid, whatshisname, he's the one who did it. When challenged, i actually heard him say in an agonised tone, "I told him not to do it." WHAT??? I had to laugh.

As i mentioned before - it's been a year of developing life skills. Pooing in the toilet was just one of several. My particular favourite? Negotiation. The kid should be working for the CIA. He'll negotiate the chocolate right out of your hand if your not careful. Before you know it, you're nodding your head saying "Mmm, yes, you want to watch Tom and Jerry another 50 times before bed...that sounds fair..." Like all the great orators in our family (me, Maria...me...), he can talk his way through and out of anything. It's not all roses though. There are some concepts he can't quite grasp. Like sharing. Or saying sorry. Or eating a full meal. There's plenty of room for improvement. Its lucky he's pretty sweet most of the time, so we can overlook these minor shortcomings...(that means we're turning a total blind eye).

Here's the part where i reflect: i can't believe the kids already three. I wish that time and age were slower, so he could stay little forever. Its sort of sad and not sad at the same time to see the baby disappear and the little boy emerge. Of course, our understanding of the time means we know that he's not going to stay a little boy forever either - one day he'll be a teenager (ugh), and then an adult. Which means, we better enjoy this while we can.

Happy birthday my boy. It's been fun terrorising you the last three years - don't think that'll stop any time soon. I love you xxx

Happy birthday to moi ploise

So it was my birthday yesterday. (I know. Hold your applause.) I feel a quick post in honour of my birth would be appropriate, even though i predict the pest will steal the show as usual.



Alas, i had to work, but my workmates and friends made it a nice day nonetheless (thanks for the long lunch and cake peeps!), and i had not one but TWO deliveries of flowers - beautiful roses from Jo and lovely lilies and champers from my BFF over in L.A. My good friend Turnsie arranged my annual birthday present treasure hunt, always a good way to start the day, and i got a necklace and earrings AND the Grease DVD from Jo too. Now he'll have no excuse for not watching it with me, HAHA sucker. David and Mel got me a ticket to Fame, which we went to see last week, and my brother supposedly got me something which he conveniently "left at work" yesterday, so we'll see when that makes an appearance. My in laws spoilt me with cards and scarfs and all sorts of lovely things, and Leah sent over a hilarious card and ring from the UK. Which all proves that there's nothing like a birthday to make you feel loved.




Dinner at my parents last night, and my uncle made homemade pasta for dinner, my favourite thing, and obviously Jack's too - as you can see, he enjoyed his share.











Afterwards it was all about the cake - and he went to great lengths to discover its whereabouts. "Where is the cake. Where is the cake. Where is the cake." I mean really kid. Look in the fridge. Out it came, in all its chocolate glory, and when he was told he wasn't going to get any, he threw his hands in the air in frustration and proclaimed "But i was a good boy! I ate all my pasta!"




For once he was telling the truth. My lone candle was lit, and happy birthdays were sung TWICE so Jack could blow out my candle TWICE. Then my dad breaks out the whisky (what? it was an important occasion.), and i decide to have some fun and tell Jack it's apple juice. The kid loves apple juice. So i say "hey Jack, want some apple juice?" and give him the glass. He takes a whiff and thinks why not - goes in for a slug before i snatch it off him with a jolly "just joking! Haha!" Then all hell breaks loose, and there's tears and screams and general patheticness about wanting juice. "OK, OK", i say, "i'll get you some real juice." "NO!" he wails, "I want THAT juice!!" Maria's looking at me like i'm getting what i deserve, which i probably am, but i drag him into the kitchen and get him some red cranberry juice in a tom and jerry glass, which seems to do the trick, so i'm the winner after all. It was a nice little break in all the fun.

I know. Cuters.



The great happy birthday sing-a-thon. PS, there were other people at my party, but who cares about them.

Sharing the cutting duties, as any great couple would

My lilies (thank Y!)

Aaaaaand my roses, in peach in white cause the boy knows i don't do red.

So, it's all over for another year. By this time NEXT year i will be a Mrs! Me, a wife? *sniggers* feeling sorry for Jo already.

PS - check out some of Jo's photography here! I reckon he's getting pretty good :)