More Wedding Highlights

Nikos's Mum saying I'm the most beautiful bride ever.
Joe, Dad and Richie Rich Rich saying I was stunning
Phil saying I look amazing
Dad saying it was like a country wedding out of Pride and Prejudice with everyone milling around outside the chapel
Helen saying I'm the nicest person she's ever met
Auntie Enid saying that we radiated happiness through the marquee
Cheryl saying we were the happiest couple she's ever seen
Len's wonderful video with everyone saying their memories of us
And the dress is still immaculate

Photos are up!

It sounds sad, but I'm almost as excited about my photos being on the web than when I got engaged and when I got married. You re-live it you see. Especially with our photographer who is quite frankly a genius

The problem with blaming yourself

The problem with blaming yourself is that it's the start of depression. If you can get out of that habit, like many politicians know, you're on the way to a relatively happy life. Last year when I had the world's most painful biopsy and had to take a week off work for pain, due to everyone's reaction at the time, I thought it was my poor pain tolerance. I now know that is absolute rubbish - yesterday I had the same procedure and today I am absolutely fine - in no pain whatsoever. It was how the nasty doctor did it - with insufficient local anaesthetic in the wrong place. The nice doctor (who is from Slovakia) yesterday let me hold Phil's hand, and I held the nurse's hand in my other hand. Not to mention a better, more gentle approach.

Other good news is that the wedding presents arrived yesterday - and we've unpacked and used some of them. The cats have already smashed one. Trotsky is a lot better (as you might hope after three thousand sterling pounds).

We've seen the photos and we love them - although I'm a bit disappointed that we haven't got some key people. But hey ho. They go up on the web at the weekend - can't wait.

We've reached a compromise with the Today programme and Capital - if I get up before Phil I'm allowed to put Capital on.

A beautiful mauve poppy has flowered today in the garden. Photo forthcoming.

Breaking A Golden Rule aka 'Don't bother to read this I'm just moaning'

My number one Golden Rule, which I'm about to break, is that Bad News should always be delivered face to face. This came from my days working at Hackney Council where we knew there were going to be redundancies, and someone from the finance team told me I was going to be made redundant - leaving an answerphone message on my mobile phone. I was devastated. When it came down to it, my manager at the time called me into his office and told me. It wasn't that bad like that. You can't really feel much when it's just you and this other guy sitting in the office with as much time as you want. You just want to go home and get out of there.


Anyway the 6th June isn't a very lucky day for us to put it mildly. On that day last year I had a mammogram - not that bad considering it was 6.6.6. Yesterday was in a different league. To start with all over the BBC was news that the NHS is £500m in surplus. This caused an angry row with me and my husband. Not particularly that we disagreed with each other, but because he said it wasn't healthy me getting angry about something I can't do anything about. My point was that the NHS is the most important thing we've got - more important than education as if you haven't got anyone to educate then you're b**gg**. So the point of it being in 'surplus' is what exactly? I said to Phil it's like Oxfam deciding it wants to put £200million in its reserves - in fact it's worse as this money is simply going back to the Treasury. To his credit, Hubby then emailed his doctor mates and asked them how many extra junior doctor training posts this 'surplus' would create. The answer is around 40,000.

This takes us neatly to the second unpleasant thing - Hubby still hasn't got a job in August he found out yesterday. Nothing unusual or too upsetting about that you might think, apart from the fact that he is a qualified surgeon, and that this news just isn't coincidental from the BBC's positive crappy spin.

Then the annual mammogram I had turned out not to be as straightforward as we were hoping. It was all very pleasant apart from the fact I've got to go back on Wednesday for a biopsy. Apparently there's what they're hoping is 'scar tissue' - and this needs to be confirmed. Last year I had to have four days off work - just because I was in so much pain from the dratted biopsy. The woman who did it was most unpleasant - she wouldn't even let me hold Phil's hand. It was awful - worse pain than the op almost. And everyone kept on saying to me 'But it's only a biopsy, what do you mean you can't ride your bike?'. Initially I blamed the woman who did it, later on I thought 'well they had to almost kill me to find out..'. Now I'm back blaming her again. Luckily this time I'm having it done at my favourite, local hospital and the lovely Polish or whatever she is, lady doctor, who reminds me a bit of Eva Herzegovina is doing it instead of the other horrible doc. But of course this news wasn't good.
I prepared so well for the chemo - Dr S said the best anyone has ever prepared for it - so it's not even worth thinking about having to have more.

Then I arrived home to be told a friend had died (yes she was v old and yes it was expected)
and then in the post was a letter telling me my grant application for funds for the MA course I want to do has been refused - because one of the forms got in late. Then this morning
taking Trottems to the Vet was much more traumatic than I thought - it took both of us to hold her as she was squawking in pain.

So deciding I was too fragile and not in a fit state to be at work I'm at home, 'Blogging my Way Through Cancer'. And I'd better stop before the thought police arrest me.

Honeymoon Heaven - and a dislocated hock

Technically I'm still on honeymoon - professionally at least. Not returning to work until Wednesday. Hubby has returned to work. The honeymoon was brilliant - a more apt word than wonderful I think - as it has a more refreshing quality to it. Refreshed is certainly how you feel after cycling 250 miles in a few days.

Anyway, we dined like Kings, drank like bishops and cycled like professionals, and felt, acted like and actually were newly-weds. How long does that title last for? I'm hoping a couple of years at least.

Everything has been so amazing the past couple of weeks I'm trying to draw out every second. So glad we got a videographer (we called him the Video Nazi actually - that's another story). Also so looking forward to the photos! That's one of my jobs for today - booking the viewing. Even my Dad said he thought the photographer was good.

We came back last week and found that Trotsky was limping. Phil, with some authority, said it looked like a fox bite. The next day it seemed a bit worse so I took her to the Vets. (Gay VET, Gay VET - sang to the tune of GAY BAR, GAY BAR - that's also another story). It is a dislocated Hock - or ankle. They've quoted us THREE THOUSAND POUNDS. Fortunately I ignored my husband's advice a year ago and the animal is insured, so we don't have to worry about that side of things. The service you get at the Vet is quite incredible. The Vet examined the cat and then said, I need to talk to the orthopaedic surgeon and in walks this other young lady, who concurs with the £3k price tag and diagnosis.

Yes, it's about ten times as good a service as the NHS, but at an infinitely inflated price tag, it's unethical for humans. And, in the words of Sara Cox, Wrong Diddly Wrong Wrong.

MORGANISATION AT LAST!

Yes, we are now betrothed and the wedding was amazing! Not just the happiest day of my life, but Phils too - and he said so in his speech. I want to record everything that happened before we forget all the wonderful things that werenèt scripted. Like Venus, the Goddess of Love appearing at the end of the day, appearing to eclipse the moon; we went outside at about nine o'clock and there was the brightest star I've ever seen, right next to the Moon. An old farmer neighbour of Mum's was even out there staring and one of Mum's friends said she'd never seen it before.
We're on honeymoon now - Phil is in the hotel room synchcronizing the cycle map the company have given us with his palm computer. We want to do a food diary - had marvellous food again - but before we do that I'm going to list all my favourite bits of Saturday, 19th May 2007.
- getting ready with Nellie and Aoife and Sarah, the pink champagne and pink sapphire necklace wedding presents from Mr Morgan
- walking into the chapel and seeing all the familiar smiling faces of our friends and family - like Jules, Sam, Shirley and Derrick, Judith and Angela, Julia, Cathryn winked at me
- laughing with Mum and Jenny in the morning
- Elspeth's arch and the lovely flowers from Erica, the horsechesnut and hawthorn in flower
- Len doing the funny stories on video
_ everyone saying how gorgeous the dress was _ and me saying that Jo made it
- my little bridesmaids Poppy and Nina
- the ceremony
- looking into Phil's eyes as we say the vows
- feeling his hands on mine,
- Phil stroking and pummelling my hands as he's trying to talk to me with his hands, probably trying to tell me to keep still and stop looking round!
- Text from James
- John and Anni at the Chapel and their hugs
- the sunshine
- Joe and Aoife singing surprise 'Your love is going to last'
- Dad's speech
- Phil's speech
- Joe leaving easy care label on shirt
- Joel's speech - when Pete wheeled out their Nan's trolley
- Bridget and Helen getting on so well
- Aoife doing face painting
- the first barn dance _ Joe dancing funny
- Jo and Graham dancing together
- Mum dancing with cousin in law David looking happy
- having a Hartington beer with Phil
- Erica crying with happiness
- Anthony, Joe and Pete breakdancing to Salt N Pepa 'Whatta Man'
- Joe and Phil doing sound effects LONG NOOOOR for bus annoucements
- Nellie and Richard dancing to 9-5
- singing on the bus
- Horsechesnut flowering outside Elspeth's barn

Morganisation

How to organise a wedding on Tamoxifen

1) Go for some acupuncture to negate the side effects of Tamoxifen
2) Delegate everything
3) Relax

It's getting to crunch time now - exactly who is coming to the wedding and that's the interesting bit. Some people who are only invited to the evening do are coming up for two nights, and some people are dropping out of the whole thing. And fascinatingly was my algebraic code cracking system any guide to this behaviour? The answer to this question is probably no, not at all. Fans of this blog will know that a couple of months ago I devised a genius plot to decide who to invite to the wedding. Potential guests were given a 3-4 digit code. A number to start with, based on the number of times I have seen them in the past 2 years, a letter from A to D for intensity of relationship ie A for very intense once I do see them, down to D for not very intense at all, in fact do they like me? And a Y or N if Phil has met them. So for example some people would get a score of 0DN - ie I hadn't seen them at all in the past 2 years which isn't a very good start, it's not very intense when I do see them, and Phil also hasn't met them. So really I was all set to cross them off the list. Then I invited everyone I wanted to, so the code was ditched. Anyway, what's happened is that some of the ODNs are quite keen and booked themselves two nights up there, a 1AY has dropped out totally, a what-I thought was a 0BN but is probably more like a 0XN now I think about it is not coming, a 2AN has dropped out and a 75AY is threatening not to come, those latter two claiming they can't afford it.

I think age should have been factored in a bit - the over 50s are the keenest, there's no getting away from it. Phil's quite disappointed that one of his 4AYs has dropped out and a 3AY of his has got a wedding on the same day. So today I'm sorting the wheat from the chaff (mainly AYs from the DNs) and some lucky people may get 'upgrades' and get an invite to the whole thing. That's if they want to as of course some people are so offended that they didn't get an invite to the day do in the first place they won't come at all now.

Gwen Stefani here I come

Apparently with my hair appropriately styled i now look like Gwen Stefani. Isn't she married to someone quite interesting? Anyway to cut a long story short I haven't got enough time to laze around blogging all day. Too busy taking unused IPODS back to shops and collecting packages that people haven't put enough stamps on. And I thought I'd be hand making all my favours like all the BEST BRIDES do. But I am a BAD BRIDE. Everyone thinks the hand carved pebbles is too big a job and would end up looking hopelessly amateurish, especially with someone with as much artistic talent as Spud from Trainspotting.

We watched that the other day, hungover, and we all felt quite pleased that we had mere hangovers, not uncontrollable addictions. Smug in fact.

I want to know the difference between smugness and happiness. Perception that's all. Anyway. I'm off to the Post Office.

£250 free make-up - if you've had breast cancer

One of the brilliant things that they don't really shout about at Fulham's Breast Cancer Haven is the sessions where they give away £250 worth of free make up. You get a two hour session where you plaster it all on as well and we all look like a million dollars when we leave, even if we feel like tuppence hapenny. The session is actually called 'Look Good Feel Great'. I went yesterday, perfect timing for the wedding of course, although it felt like responsibility piling up on me rather than layers of free radicals, as of course you've got to put the time in to learn how to do the stuff. We were there for two hours - there are 12 steps apparently to make up. I looked a bit like Marilyn Monroe when I left - although Phil on his better days says I look like Boris Johnson. That's a step up from Andy Warhol. My hair has gone white blond you see. Another day, another hair style.

Today I'm planning to go to B&Q & 'hobbycraft'. One of my better ideas is to get some large pebbles and inscribe people's names on them for the favours - so they can use them as paperweights. We'll see how far I get with that bright idea.

We've booked the honeymoon - Hurrah - can't wait although it's a lot like hard work cycling 40 miles a day. Cycling in the Loire Valley. Phil has created a new, married blog for us. I want to call it 'Morganisation'.

Bottling Happiness; Positive Stress

When you're depressed, they say to you 'you've got to think rationally'. But they don't say anything when you're happy. Thank God. I don't think there could be anything more irritating than when you're at your happiest people try and give you advice.

Yesterday I tried on the dress, underwear, veil, shoes and hair pieces all together for the first time and if I do say so myself it looked great. And the thing is, when little things go wrong when you're happy - like driving through a red light, cutting up a cyclist, paying £3.50 to park, not being able to park, you're not bothered. Even Adam Brimmeloe on the Today programme not mentioning the doctors' lobby of parliament didn't faze me. I carried on in my new happy busy state. Nuptial therapy. I might patent it, although St Paul and his incriminating letter to the Corinthians might sue me.

And we've still got so much to do - fake tan, lighter hair, eyebrows plucked, evening invites, speeches, favours, transport, water the plants, pay for the booze, get the shoes, nails, pamper session, look at the michelin guide, book the honeymoon, talk to the relatives. It's all go.

Everything is great!

Everything is great at the moment. Have a lovely new job with new people who are all wonderful. I have my wedding CD on at the moment - I managed to actually use the CD player. And I'm charging up my new IpoD to put all the wedding disco songs on. And the sun is shining and only a month to go to the wedding!

It's all consuming now - every second we're doing wedding related activities and I wish I could bottle the feelings I feel now to sample in years to come when I may have a blue day. If only life were so simple. I just can't wait to smile and laugh all day - but every second will be recorded to re-live at will. We've almost got all the outfits, everything is booked, and nothing is denting my amazing good mood.

Upside Down, Boy - you turn me, inside out and round and round! I'm crazy to think you're all mine. As long as the sun continues to shine there's a place for you in my heart - that's the bottom line.

Hackney Holiday - Acupuncture and manicure

Had a great day which kicked off with some wedding debates - how many chairs to get for example. I then had a lovely long session of meditation where Marmite and Trottems joined me, gazing at the rose buds in the garden. In one of my many magazines it said that the new way of getting rid of greenfly is just smudging them off with your finger - apparently they don't come back, it's 'organic' and quick. Slightly messy though, and not convinced of its effectiveness. Those are the sorts of thoughts which come into your head when meditating and you have to quickly get back to thinking of nothing. Then I tootled off to my acupuncture session which was very refreshing and therapeutic. I immediately felt great. Holiday at home - not much can beat it, especially when you've got a little bit more money to spend than nothing.

My body now virtually tip top, I'm also getting more concerned with beauty issues - my nails were next on the list. And in true holiday style I had a manicure - from a lovely pregnant Indian girl. She was thrilled as the baby is the first grandchild, grand SON in fact, for her in-laws where she has moved to from Delhi. A wonderful hand massage together with beautiful nails.

Then I got home to work on bringing down the numbers for the wedding - which isn't a very nice job. I want everyone on my list to come, but realistically they can't. I've created a brilliantly logical system. Everyone is given a number to start with - number of times I've seen them in the past two years. Then an 'intensity' letter - ABC or D for the 'intensity' of the relationship A = intense. Then a Y/N if Phil has met them or not. So some people have got OBN like Order of the Brown Nose in Private Eye. Evening Do. And the great thing about that is that it's virtually unlimited.

Blogging my way through cancer

Early on in my diagnosis, Mum gave me a book called 'Writing my way through cancer' which I immediately chucked in the garden, and it is now almost ruined. I was annoyed as the woman was such a moaning minnie. In such circumstances one undoubtedly compares onself with AN other and this woman was a published writer, which got my green tentacles up to start with, she was about double my age, and the cancer was less dramatic. I didn't find reading about her whinging very helpful, especially then. Now I too can see the benefits of documenting one's experiences - in my case blogging. With blogging, as one's parents and friends, not to mention the Stazi, thought police, MI6 and the FBI are reading then you invariably have to make the thing upbeat and keep moaning, especially about anyone with two pence worth of power, to a minimum.

I do think it's a bit of a myth that creativity thrives on misery - surely good writing and art comes with practise and experience? So I'm going to try, against the best wishes of the Royal College of Censors, to carry on with my blog, even if it gets slightly dull with my limited propensity to moan.

And what else have I learnt or changed with the a) cancer/b) blogging/c) engagement (they all seem to merge into one and it's difficult to separate them)? Well from cancer - a) stay upbeat. Blogging - remember who pays the bills. You may think it's you, but actually it's the british tax payer and 99.9% of the time you don't agree with them so b) keep your opinions to yourself. Engagement - Enjoy and keep your eye on the budget (see b).

Two Amazing Things - Sunshine and Hairdressers

There's not much more amazing than these two things - sunshine and haircare. Sunshine especially when you're on holiday gives you this wonderful escapist, freedom feel. You've won the battle, the streets are deserted, everyone else is at work, apart from the Turkish hairdressers where there's two weddings. Especially carefree in a thoroughly Turkish hairdressers. There's continental drum and bass blaring out, the sun's bouncing off the floor and mirrors, a lovely breeze blowing all the ciagrette smoke away, foreign language whirring over your head, close your eyes and the sound of water splashing over your locks could be the costa del stokey. You're reading a book about frogs, get a haircut better than vidal sassoon for a quarter of the price and come out looking a little bit more like Kylie, especially now you're 55 kilos! Hurrah. Panic over about the weight loss. On top of that all the treatment has finished, bar Tamoxifen, which I haven't quite made my mind up about. And the sun is still shining. On my blonde hair...

Ten Amazing Things (Tat)

1) I am carrying on with my blog
2) Ten Amazing Things spells Tat
3) My blog is listed on Three Beautiful Things, so to show my gratitude I'll do the same, again
4) Blaglady says she bets 3bt isn't being investigated. Ha. But she has 'He who shall not be named'. I didn't bother with that.
5) Only people like Nelson Mandela and Mark Steel, not to mention most of the cabinet like Madelson and Jack Straw get 'investigated'.
6) Hits have gone up again
7) Profile views are at 500 nearly
8) I will not mention work again on this blog. Promise.
9) Are numbers 4-8 really amazing things? Surely I'm scraping the barrel. Funny can be amazing. Well, sometimes.
10) Watched most of Northanger Abbey and spoke on phone to Blaglady.

Not knowing what day it is

One of the things about being off work for such a long time is you don't know the day or the date at any point. The days merge into a sort of grey durge. And I haven't been on TOP FORM the past two weeks. The Radiotherapy has done its work - and finished - but left me feeling exhausted, a very sore left breast which is inflammed and that's apparently what's making me feel sick. But I start work next Wednesday, with an interview too and so has Phil.

I'm reading Possession by AS Byatt at the moment, which is a great read prior to me starting an MA in October as it's all about academia. I am hoping that all this reading is improving my writing - Mum always said that's the best way. I haven't found 'Possession' as good as 'Kitchen Confidential' in this respect. Perhaps I feel overawed by the quality of the former, overawed to the extent of total inactivity.

I think Mum gave me Possession for my sixteenth birthday - so it's taken me seventeen years to read it! And this sort of random fact makes you think about other objects and influences in one's life. What's the oldest object I've been given? Why've I kept it for so long? And what about 'services' you've benefitted from years ago. School teaching. But also learning to ride a bike, swim, read and talk. Skills that most people take for granted are passed down from parents. The wonders of science, rarely lost from the first generation that learns 'the truth'. AS Byatt's character 'Ellen' is given laudanam for a headache. These days everyone's got a stash of paracetamol or ibruprofen. And they're not addictive.

But - we may have to move. To the 'West Midlands'. Where Phil's got his interview. A big area. Phil's already saying Ludlow. I was impressed as it was mentioned yet again in 'Country Life' as the best place to live in the country. Not just for foodies. It has a good Council. Very tempting. For someone like me who values local government.

And I think we've decided to go ahead with the marquee on the school field. Yes, it'll be hassle but as Phil pointed out yesterday I've got four weeks of holiday to take before April as I've been off sick for so long. The gorgeous dress is finished. As soon as I'm better I can start getting excited about that again.

Philosophising whilst cycling

I'm cycling to my radiotherapy appointments every day which is an hour of exercise so the diet has been binned. And cycling is wonderful, the flats you pass with tiny balconies, the houses with still-to- flower climbing trees, the cafes with scents of coffee and curry, the long nineteenth century tree-lined roads with families on their way to school, the beautiful parks thronging with bird song,(which I can't identify and wish I could) even in the rain . Then at the bottom of Pitfield Street you arrive in the city, at a junction I'm so happy to say adapted for cyclists with a crossing for us and the pedestrians. Then we all cycle the same route (they always overtake me) and the buildings get taller, the pedestrians more numerous, and the streets darker. Finally I arrive on Moorgate and waiting at the traffic lights to turn on to the Roman London Wall and the sound of footsteps is hypnotic. E taught me to say 'Ohm' in my head whilst meditating and it's so lovely to do it just there, where right in the thick of the action all you can hear are thousands of feet softly tapping quickly to their different destinations. And I'm overtaken again as I wonder how many millions of journeys have occured on that straight road and how it might have looked two thousand years ago.

Mum's best friend J's philosophy was 'to enjoy life as much as possible without harming anyone else'. I love thinking about thinking, nowhere more than on my bike where if I think a dodgy not-nice thought I can quickly think about avoiding hitting the pavement or how wet my bum/hands/legs are. I think about Dave Gorman and his quest to find other Dave Gormans. And my quest to find other A. Tattons. We found one last night - perhaps the only other in the country - on 'my tube'. She recorded a twenty second song 'Santa Baby'; coincidentally on my birthday. She's probably twenty years younger than me. Are they any thirty three year old, breast cancer inflicted, ex-Kylie-Minogue lookalike, NHS manager, expert patient trained, engaged, left-wing, feminist, cat loving, arctic-monkey-loving, food loving, aspiring writer/historians out there with the name Tatton? I think about feminism and its economic basis - equality of pay but not culturally.

Then I arrive at the hospital and you're in and out in 2 minutes, while they play 'Coldplay' on their ghetto blaster and you're zapped. Inappropriate I think, as not only is it too gloomy but 90% of the clientele are over 50. I ponder the merits of not only the 'gowns' they give you, but why they can't give you a bag to put all your stuff in each day as you trail round from waiting room, to changing room to the space age treatment room.

And the journey home. Empty streets on the way back as everyone's at their desks. Jeeves and Wooster take me back to the twentieth century and I wonder how people become butlers.
We had a lovely meal last night - at the Three Crowns on the High Street. High Standards and not too high a price - Phil got the champers and the roses. I bought the meal. We both ate, listened, talked and laughed. That's twenty-first century feminism for you.

Spoke too soon - feeling rough

Quicker than you can say 'Feminism is dead - look at the popularity of Life on Mars' I feel ill again. An overwhelming tiredness, which even for me, is unusual in that it's stopping me watch 'Diagnosis Murder'. Also haven't done the jobs I wanted to do like book my hairdressing appointment (Phil now says I look like David Milliband and that, believe me, is below the belt). I haven't done things like put the tins away from the shopping. But the Tattonmeister came round yesterday for a short trip - he has now played on a grammy award nominated song so that's very good. He kept making me laugh - like when we tried to visit the Church Street squat and they wouldn't let us in because they were 'shut'. He said he was going to complain. Tiredness is one of the side effects from radiotherapy so I don't know why I'm so shocked. I was just hoping I might feel like doing slightly more interesting things than lying around dozing.

Happy again

It takes a hell of a lot to get rid of my brilliant mood from the 19th May last year (a certain proposal) so I'm as happy now just about as I was then, having recovered from chemo, psychotic episode, cancer, work etc. I've just submitted the application to do the MA I want to do in October and really looking forward to that. We've scaled down the wedding considerably - Mum has found a marquee for hire for £400 - ten times cheaper than the other one we had booked. We're going to get married late afternoon so we can get away with giving everyone one meal - which is going to be a buffet. And I've cancelled the creche - nobody seemed to be into that idea. I've read two books in the past week which I enjoyed very much - going through chemo I couldn't even concentrate long enough to watch telly or listen to the radio - had to do jigsaws. I've read 'Small Island' which was a look at post-war racism, but I didn't like it that much, couldn't empathise with the characters. Then I read 'the Time Traveller's wife' which I really loved - always had a fascination with time travel; examining questions of philosophy, free will and history.

My hair is long enough to have a parting now - although Phil's calling me Hitler, I think I look like Maria Von Trapp.

Change of plans

Had a terrible week of illness - just a nasty virus which combined with radiotherapy has left me unable to get out of bed most of the week. Just recovering now. This has put the wedding plans on the back burner, in fact on a slow, conservative, back-burner. In fact on a bunsen burner. Yes, the wedding plans are on the brink of being totally changed. Being genuinely sick all week has made me feel like the mutated son of Gordon Brown and Ebeneezer Scrooge on a Monday morning. The half pay is starting to bite, combined with daytime TV which seems to be constantly about 'Cash in the Attic', places in the sun, spendaholics, adverts for loan sharks and debt agencies. Inflation's rising, unemployment's rising & both me and Phil might be out of a job, interest rates are on the increase and polar bears are dying. It's starting to seem ludicrous to spend not hundreds, but thousands of pounds on one day when we haven't got that money. Yes we have 'equity' but it isn't cash. But then, our revised wedding list (of ten guests each) includes no aunties, cousins and hardly any friends. And what would I spend what in real terms will be £50K on? You can't get much for that these days apparently, apart from a decent wedding.