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Flowers Date: 13-01-03 Went to see a woman about some flowers tonight. She's a friend of a friend and, apparently, is quite good. We were meant to read through wedding magazines and the like, taking note of anything that particularly caught our eyes. What actually happened was that we didn't have a clue what we were doing, so left it till the last possible moment (late Sunday night) to flick through the pile of magazines we have in the house. I can honestly say that these wedding magazines are a waste of time and money. They are all the same, and are useless unless you've got loads of money to spend on a wedding, or are just looking for a wedding dress. None of them seemed to have anything on flowers. Luckily the woman was really nice and sat us down and talked through the whole thing: colours we wanted, any particular styles etc. My mum would have been livid if she was in the room - the woman kept on saying "How about [insert flower name here]" and we'd just stare at her and go "Errrr.....". She had a couple of books to show us what she meant, and she had a couple of portfolios with photos of stuff she's done. We're not looking for overly extravagent flowers, so we're looking at a combination of something like tulips, irises and fresias, although we're not quite sure. As usual. She's going to check out prices for us and get back to us about it all. Sounds good though. On the whole, it was a good day - I even managed to try printing onto card for the RSVPs. Ok, so they look "home-made", but this was only a trial run, and the wording's not sorted yet, but they don't look too bad. Hey! And they cost next to nothing....sort of. The only dark spot on the day was a bird flying into my car on the way back from the flower-woman's house. There's nothing quite as grim as the sickening *Thud* as you drive over one. Well, I thought there wasn't, until we got back and I thought I'd check for damage. It took me about ¼ hour to prise the dead bird (sticking feet first) out from the grill of my car with a long stick and then wash away the feathers. Joy.
More stationary fiddling |