Time to reflect

Well that's come around quickly.

The wedding is Saturday.

I'm planning to write a few blogs before the W-Day* but the way things have gone I may not have time to put paws to keyboard.

So, I'm making hay while the sun shines. 

We're pretty much ready. I'm all one for making lists and but this is one of those times where the items keep growing. Extra bits you've remembered creep on to the bottom of the paper. 

At the end of wedding prep, you realise you've gained a glut of extra information that 'may' come in useful again.  Words that you never heard until about a week ago creep their way into conversations. You would try and forget some of it and yet something tells you it will appear in a pub quiz in two years.

My speech is written, we've nearly packed and I just need a haircut.

Easy.

And yet...

Still a few days to go.

*I hope I'm the first to use that phrase. I'll probably find out W-Day was the day they invaded Winter. You know, the season. These things do happen folks. It's on wikipedia. That's always right, right? Right?

The Wrong Trousers

There are downsides to losing weight.

Sure, you get a confidence boost, you (hopefully) get healthier and generally feel better about yourself, but there are remote times when you wish things could be adaptable.

Take last night.

I had the glam job of cleaning the bathroom  and picked out some old clothes to wear.

The T-shirts were fine. OK, a bit baggy but they did the job.

But the trousers? A lost cause. Every pair slid down my frame, finally resting around my bottom. It looked ridiculous and I looked several years too late for that particular style.

The horror.

If I had a hula-hoop to hand I'd have used it to fashion a clown-esque pantaloons. At least they would have looked a tad more sensible than the slack slacks I modelled.

That shallow quibble aside, things are going well.
OK, I miss having pies.
And pasties.
And a bit of booze.
But, all in all, I'm feeling better in myself.

The big talk

In four weeks today I will be married.

And you know what? I'm calm about it all.

OK, maybe not all but the actually ceremony and commitment? Not a problem.

I'm really looking forward to the day. We've worked like mad to get everything how we want and, hopefully, it should be great fun.

To those who are getting married but have yet to start planning I pass on these words of advice. You should know this now before you go further.

It's not a bad thing, it's just vital information.

Picture me as your wedding-prep guru, pour yourself a glass of milk and sit down.

It's time for the big talk. You probably think you know this but, and trust me on this one, you don't know how true this is.

As a wise man says, the thing about this, is this:

The preparation is kinda crazy.

Both the WTB and I have careers where we juggle different things during the day. Multi-tasking is not an alien word to us, though it is a word I detest. Bloomin' buzzword.
Even so, taking on a wedding has moved us out of our comfort zones (bloomin buzzword).

You enter a world where napkin tones are a discussion point. The colour is grey in case you're wondering. You're probably not, and, if you know the WTB, you've probably guessed that anyway.
It's a world where you get to pick what kind of portable toilet you'd like. Standard or luxury are just two of the many options that await you. Will standard reflect back on you? If it's luxury you're after, what kind of music would you like piped in?
It's a world where you feel every detail will be scrutinised. Is this the right font for the invites? Should I sit my brothers nearest the bar? Can I get away with publishing my speech online on the day? Can I tweet from the church? What kind of pants best reflect me as a newly married man? What colour should my socks be?*

You feel that these will all be looked at, examined, and discussed. You feel that everything will be analysed within an inch of its life. You feel that there will be gossip.

You know what? There will be.

But the key, and excuse me for venturing into saccharine-land here, is that none of it really matters.

What matters is you and your WTB standing in front of your friends and taking that step together.

That's why I'm not nervous. I'm looking forward to it.

I know things could go wrong. I know it could probably rain (mainly because it's Cornwall and, let's face it folks, we Cornish have been running the 'Always sunny in Cornwall' con for many a year now). I know Great Aunt Ethel might not agree with the music coming from the cubicle outside.

But hell, we've coped with the juggling, the disappointments, the long days. We've found the place. We've tracked down the last existing available caterer and thanked our stars that she's a legend. We've sorted the problems so far, all with a smile and a muttered swearword under our breaths.

Sure, things could go wrong. But we can deal with it.

It's our day.

And you'll get through it too. Trust in yourselves.



Just the stag to get through then...





















*Answers to the questions:

Yes, it is the right font. Gill Sans is lovely.
I should sit at least one near the bar.
Yes I can and probably will - just before I say it perhaps to launch speech karaoke.
I can't and I wouldn't. #rightthingtodo
Posh pants.
As many colours as possible.

Missing weeks

I wish I could tell you what I've been doing over the past few weeks.

While that may sound like I've been on some huge drinking session, I actually can't remember what I have been doing.

I know I've been to work. This is because my supply of porridge has gone down in my draw.

I know I've been to the FBIL's* wedding. I bought a suit. I did some dancing. I took some pictures. I was there.

I know I've started to learn Something on Gertie the ukulele. That's 'Something' by The Beatles not just 'something' on Gertie, although, at times, it does sound like something else not Something. So if you heard me I wouldn't blame you for thinking it was something and not being able to work out what that something was, only sure in the fact it wasn't Something.

I know I've been to the gym. I've picked my favourite locker and everything.

I also know I've done some wedding prep. The wine and suit (oh my) are bought and we've paid for the rings.

However, in that time, I don't know why I've not blogged.

Although I've written about writers block before I wonder if I've just gone through a massive spell of it.

There have been numerous attempts at writing this.

I started one on dentists following my first visit to one in years. Yes, I know, I should have gone before. But I really do freak out over those trips. Sweats, shakes, swearing, the whole kaboodle.

Another focused on how many weeks I had left until the big day. It was 18 weeks at that stage. I seemed a little worried when I read it back. Ha!

So apart from the dentist, ukulele, wedding, working, gyming, shopping and prepping for the wedding, just what have I done?



Perhaps I have been drunk.


Skills.


*Future Brother-In-Law

Slim. Trim. Dim.

So where was I?

The past few weeks have been a bit of a blur but, as I keep repeating in my head in some sort of wedding mantra, we're getting there.

The invites are nearly 'good to go' and the health drive? According to the NHS I'm now healthy.

I've lost some weight now, I blame the stairs, but it's a pretty cool thing. I know some will go back on but it's not a bad position to be in. I also bought a jumper in 'small' for the first time since I was... probably three.

It's a weird situation for me. I still think I've got a lot to do until I'm comfortable with my body. I'm not planning on losing much more weight. I just want to stay 'healthy'.

So I'm sorry for being a bit quiet. I've been a busy bee.

Next on the horizon? My 30th. Three decades of whisk(e)y, bad jokes and slightly weird thoughts to look back on and enjoy.
The big 3-0 as I've been told to call it does make you look back, reflect on where you've come from and where you want to go. I'd run off a few more cliches if I had time but they're well known sayings for a reason. There's always that element of truth.

I'm not going to share everything of course, that'd just be unfair on you. I can only imagine the look of horror on your faces if I ran off every wonky wonder I'd had.

Nope, the WTB will be get the worst of it.

Wish her luck.

Springing back

Confession time. I've rejoined the gym.

While this could create a horrifying image of me in shorts and a vest, rest easy. I'm always sensibly presented when working out.
Arms are more or less covered. Shorts are of regulation length (not below knees, not too high above the thigh). Trainers are suitably subtle.

I also swear I'm not a gym 'grunter'. While there's nothing wrong with showing effort and enthusiasm, I'm not a big fan of the loud shouts of strength that you hear. See also clapping, strutting and repeating slogans: 'Feel the burn. Be the muscle. Master the grunt.'

Today's sunshine has certainly brought a sense of spring to my outlook. I feel full of energy again. We've cracked a couple of wedding things and spent the evening looking at honeymoon bits.

It has been a productive day. In fact I've been a bit of a kitchen wonder today. Dinners for the week done. A couple of evening meals sorted.

While this may not sound much, I was the bloke who was fairly dangerous to be around, only in the kitchen you understand.

I would go into more details here but, I fear, my dad is reading this. Ah well.

Still more to do. Time is ticking on.

Hello again

I wish I had an exciting reason for not blogging for the past couple of weeks.

I'd thought about making things up* but I did make a promise to myself that everything I blogged would be honest. So here goes.

I had a day off and all was going swimmingly until I tried to spend some time on Monty. Looking back on it, the balancing went well-ish.

In my head, and in the heat of the moment, it was a disaster.

I swore. I shouted. I actually threw a bike lock on the floor.

It was a full on toddler-style tantrum.

Now, I'm not proud of it but, for anyone watching, it would have been a hoot. A fully grown man going mad at an inanimate object (sorry Monty).

It was after that I decided I needed a wee bit of a break from things and the blog needed to take a bit of a break.

I'm feeling better now, thanks for asking.

Since my last blog, I've really been doing much of the same. OK, it doesn't make great reading but I'm persevering with the stairs, plodding on with the wedding plans, celebrating the WTB's birthday and thinking about cycling quite a lot.

Over thinking has often been a problem for me. It could be the thing here too. I understand the balancing aspect and how the pedals propel you forward, it's just the getting started bit.

Anyway, that's me for now. Normal service will be resumed soon.





* Ideas for lack of blog:

• Kidnapped by damned dirty apes
• Taking part in a coup in Cornwall
• Forming a superhero team to fight a giant robot dragon
• Interviewing for the England rugby post
• Running a cable TV channel dedicated to proper crimping
• Working on my rap album

They're sneakers... for sneaking

The weird thing about getting as organised as we are is that you're always wary about what you've forgotten.
I've developed wedding paranoia. I'm always thinking I've missed something at the moment.
Have the doves got matching outfits?
Did we buy enough shacklegribblers?
Are there enough 'lasers' for the wedding party?

It's the feeling something is sneaking up behind you. You're not sure what it is but you know something's there.

The paranoia is, of course, much better than a last minute panic. Where you find the trained racing pigeons, that we had to get instead of the doves, have all gone on strike.

Around that we're fitting in the bits of everyday life we all have, some Lent bits and the bike. It can lead to moments where you're discussing swatches for the big day and then wondering who is taking out the recycling (it's usually me), all the while trying to get out and balance.

I didn't have any stair music today but had some company up the stairs. It was fun, it's nice to have someone to walk beside. You don't feel so foolish.
Well, you feel silly when you see people coming out of the lifts, but at least you're not feeling silly on your own.

Yesterday, however, I managed, finally, to get some music by Rufus Wainwright for my journey. For those who don't know him, you're missing out.

Prep

Two cool things happened today. One for the wedding and one for Monty.

Our invites took a huge step forward with the arrival of two important parts. Again, I'm writing this under embargo so this is probably as far as I can go with the topic.

I promise you, I'll be able to tell more soon. It's just all under wraps at the mo and I'm quite pleased. It's nice to have a surprise or two.

Secondly, as part of Lent work (need a new term for that - bit clunky) I finally sorted out Monty's lights. She's now looking spiffing with a spotlight at the front. I was quite proud of myself when it was finally done, although we did go though some teething troubles.

To start with, Monty's spotlight was pointing to the sky. It would have a Bat-signal for Cheltenham, which would have been quite cool.

She also has a tiny rear light which flashes. At one point my fingers got trapped and the lights couldn't be turned off. The bike store suddenly looked like a budget 90s rave as featured on 'edgy' episodes of Grange Hill or Biker Grove. The music was in those episodes, no doubt, 'banging'. Here, the only noises that could be heard was the occasional swearword. 

Granted, in the right hands swearing can have a certain melody but with mine it was a bit more 'staccato'.

As I've mentioned before, I'm not the most practical of blokes. I do look on in awe at any with that string to their bow. 

My brothers are both fantastic at this sort of thing. 

All of the WTB's family, especially the WTB, are also great at this. 

Me? 

Um. Yeah, let's just say I'm not gifted at it. I even have a bad influence on those who are usually experts. When my middle brother Ed and I put together a barbecue we attached the wheels to the wrong part. The once advertised 'portable' outdoor cooking tool became somewhat stuck. I'm blaming me for that*.

Before I left the store I tried all the bike bells I could see. The best? A Minnie the Minx bell on a Raleigh Caprice. Who'd have thought? I wonder if they do a Biffo the Bear one.

The stair challenge went well. The music was somewhat highbrow today:

I stomped up the stairs, leaping in the air when I reached the top. OK, I sort of did that after cooling down. 

It was still pretty neat though.

*Although, to be fair, it was a particularly hot Cornish day and only cider could quench our thirst. Thinking about it, that could have also played a part. Quite a large part.

Morning climb

I arrived at the office, ready to take on my stair challenge for Lent.

Our office is on the third floor and so I've decided to get rid of my normal podcast to give me a little travelling music. 

Decided by fruit-based God of fate, my phone picked:

So far, so good. I mean it could have been much worse... trust me. But then a bad song may force me to walk quicker.

Anyway, was a little breathless come the top. And red faced. And cursing the colder weather for my thick winter coat.

But I know it'll get better.

The WTB has had an exciting day. She's been out with her mum and sister to hunt for 'the dress'. 

It has been found. Huzzah. Good news all round.

So, for the other part of my lent deal. I've chased some things for the big day and the bike. Once I'm home tomorrow night I'm hoping I'll be able to saddle up for a wee bit and get Monty some air.

Talking of the wonderful machine, I may get Monty a bell. The WTB asked why...

...

Um...

The only thing I could think of was: What else would I ring?

I think that should win that fight for now.

Surely every cyclist has one? 

They're cool, right? 

Right?

Tricky

It has been 'one of those days.'

You know the ones. Nothing has been straightforward but I feel these are the days you can learn from. I've actually quite enjoyed it. It's good to have a tricky day to negotiate.

As long as you don't spend hours looking back, picking out the smallest detail of things, you can learn a lot.

Except... well I tend to linger on days like today. As a colleague of mine says, I 'torture' myself.

Ahem.

Crashing on.

Things are increasing on the wedding front. I'm not sure what bike/wedding things will start my lent run but I've had a couple of things to enjoy today.

Firstly, we've had something arrive for the invitations which is rather groovy. The things, and I can't wait to tell you what they are but I assume everything I know about the wedding is under embargo (it just helps things with the WTB), have come out much better than I imagined. They're very, um, us.  Especially the colour.

Secondly, stag business is picking up The best man and the best woman have been busy bees. Lovely stuff.

I'm ready for lent I think. I hope my body's ready for it too.

Fresh goals

Every year I give up something for lent.

For those who don't know here's a link but the crux of it is you give something up for 40 days.

In the past I've given up chocolate (quite easy), crisps (tough) and caffeine (perhaps the silliest thing I've ever done).

This year I've decided up to up the ante somewhat. I'm taking on three things.

I did look at giving things up but, let's face it, we haven't got much to give up. We've cut out sweet stuff, I haven't bought a packet of crisps since the new year and that would just leave booze.

Er...

We have the WTB's 30th coming up and, let's be honest, it probably won't be without a drink or two.

So, the plan is this. Every day I will spurn the lift and I'm using the stairs to the third floor.

Then I will also do one thing for the wedding and one thing for the bike per day.

My aim? To be riding properly before the end of lent.

I may not make it but man, I love a deadline.

Just my type

As much as the WTB gets obsessed with interiors, I get quite intense when it comes to words, fonts and everything typographical.

So. The wedding invites.

They've got to have the right colour and tone (especially for the WTB) and the font needed to be just right (for both of us).

So. This has taken a bit of time.

Tonight I think we've finally cracked it.

I am carrying slightly less hair than when we started. The ever-growing forehead has a few fresh wrinkles. My eyes are a wee bit sore.

But yes, I think they're ready... ish.

There are a few bits to do on them but there's almost a tick in the 'invite' box.

We're determined to get more things done this weekend. With that and more time on Monty it's going to be packed.

Lovely stuff.

Block

I've started this blog three times tonight and, so far, I've not found a satisfying beginning.

In fact, I've not yet decided on a good subject.

Usually, before I sit down with Annie, the WTB's Mac (chalk up another name for the list), I've got something in my mind that I will write about.

Whether it's Monty, a wedding doodah or something particularly odd that's happened, I usually can muster something for my fingers to dance over.

I sit and type, never really knowing how it's going to go or where I'll end up.

But today? Nada. It's a slow news day in my brain.

I assume this is a kind of 'writer's block' but, as I'm still writing I assume I have something to write about.

Tomorrow, I hope this will be better. It's Valentine's, as you probably know, and I've got a day off, which you probably didn't know. The WTB and I have something planned. We're off to the theatre. It's not a taxing piece we're seeing so my mind can relax, unwind and have a giggle. 

I think the last few weeks have caught up with my noggin. It's slacking a bit and I'm in danger of falling back into bad habits. I could kill a beer, an ale, something sweet or all three.

Instead, I'm going to look at this keyboard and hope something better comes out from my fingertips tomorrow.

Stag daze

This weekend has been crammed with both work and play, and a couple of times these have crossed over.

As well as a rewarding day at work today, I spent Saturday walking round Oxford with my best man, my best woman and their partners.

It was a stunning day. It included pubs, a trip to an ice cream parlour (with a waffle of filthy proportions), pubs and getting stuck in a revolving door at the Ashmolean.
For those who haven't been, the city's a maze of different streets, colleges and historic buildings. AND, it's packed with bikes. My newly established cycling envy found a new playground.

Anyway, we got a fair bit sorted with notes taken and a few ales sunk.

It's given us more things to think about before the big day. The countdown, in our heads, is getting quicker. The heartbeat of the wedding is getting faster and louder every day. It's exciting.

Tonight we've looked at colours and plants. It's the small things you didn't expect, the things that sneak up, that can cause mishaps.

I think we've got all of them covered. Only time will tell...

Counting down

So we've roared into February and the wedding is another month closer.
Not that I'm panicking. Oh no. I am a perfect example of a relaxed gentleman. My hands are not shaking. My brow is not furrowed.
I've always said that the wedding and what it means does not worry me. It's all the things that come with the day.
We've got a lot to do and, as a scientist will verify, even less time than yesterday.

And yet...

Well if you don't stop and smell the flowers on occasion it will pass you by. Tonight, we're having a night on the sofa. We've had a little bit of chocolate and we're having a night off.

OK, I know, I've avoided the bags of chocolate in work, tortured myself about it, and now I go and break the sweet treat embargo. The difference? Well, not much if I'm truthful.
But, as they say in some dodgy American reality shows (not that I watch them) I've done it on my own terms. The choc has been weighed out and put away. We've rationed it and we're being truthful about what we've had.

The tasty lapse doesn't mean I've forgotten my quest for fitness.

Tomorrow, as mentioned, it's my day off and Monty comes out hiding for a breath of fresh air. They're letting me out unsupervised. Whether that's a wise thing we can only wonder... until tomorrow. Obviously. Then we'll probably realise it wasn't a good move.

In the afternoon, I'm looking at a gym. I say gym, apparently it's a fitness 'studio' which means they want me to do fitness classes.



Stopped laughing?



How about now?


I'm tempted to try a circuits class, depending on how shouty the trainers turn out to be. I'm not good at being yelled at during fitness classes and so I'll only take a session if I can wear earplugs.
Or earmuffs.

I'll pick ear protection depending on the season.

The white stuff

Today I was meant to fit in a session on Monty. By that I mean another go at the scoot-weeee-balance thingy.
But this afternoon it started to snow. And it's still snowing.
While I appreciate and enjoy a challenge, the idea for my second lesson was not: How to cope in the next ice age.

So instead we've hit the wedding prep. WTB has been to two wedding dress shops and, after meeting for lunch (and maybe one nip to a pub, for a wee nip) we popped to the travel agents.
There then seemed to be a whizz of numbers, words and phrases.
The whole thing flashed by me in what seemed a matter of minutes. I remember the hotels we looked at. I remember the destination. But some of the finer details? Please ask me a question on quantum physics instead.

I'm now sat at home, with the WTB on another dress mission with Timi. I've drunk one hot choc instead of having a beer. It was banana flavour.

It really is rock and roll in the Doney house today.

Bring on the Six Nations. It's my favourite sporting tournament in the world. I may celebrate with a white chocolate low-cal hot choc now.

Fighting temptation

Like any workplace, the office usually offers up a realm of temptation when it comes to food.

There are the obligatory biscuits and packets of crisps, the occasional plate of sandwiches and, on special occasions, trays of tasty pastry snacks for us to feast on.

In the past I've indulged with the rest of the newsroom and happily demolished the food, grabbing the grub as quickly as I can.

But, and you're no doubt ahead of the game here, I've stuck to my own food since the start of 2012. And I think it has been one of the reasons I've kept the weight off.

I've obviously anger the god of gluttony though as this week we've had:
Biscuits
Cookies
Shortbread
Chocolate snacks
McDonald's breakfast items
and boxes of chocolates

Yeah, it has been a challenge.

In moments like this (as Leona Lewis sang, pop fans), I take a sip of my lovely black coffee or a glug of water, look at the space where my fruit sat (as it's already gone by this stage) and plough on with my work.
I think of the wedding, of staying healthy and how well the WTB and I are doing.
I think of my calorie targets, how fit I want to be and what I should look like on the wedding day.
I also think of saying balls to it all and tucking in to the array* of food.

It seems that every day until September will offer some sort of foodie challenge. Don't get me wrong, it's a great challenge to have.

I've just got to keep going, make sure the big day is always in my mind and, perhaps, take in a vat of apples to munch my way through.




*Using that word as my old editor hated it. I'm not a fan but it's good to give words an airing now and again, just to remind you why you don't use them.

Changing man

As you may be able to tell, quite a few things are changing for me at the minute.

The veg bowl is now overflowing in the kitchen. That's not weird granted. The odd thing is that it gets eaten during the week. We no longer stare at the aubergine, it's actually used in meals other than a Thai green curry.  The potato is rarely destined for my chip-esque oven bakes. Mash is now our potatoey treat for the week.

The weight is staying off. I'm lighter than I have been in ages.

I've been on a bike for the first time in a good twenty years. OK I haven't been on a ride (yet) but on the plus side I have avoided being a crumpled, crying mess of a man (so far).

And this blog. It has really been the first diary-style thing that I've maintained. I remember having a copy of the Roald Dahl Diary in one of my last few years of primary school. I always wanted to keep a diary but the young Doney's diary entries were dull. They were not the witty entries that TV showed me children of ten should be writing.

Granted, those TV children can still string a sentence better than I can but, let's face it, they're fictional and I have the upper hand in the realms of reality.

So thanks all. I'm not giving this up I'm just having a short break from my normal ramblings tonight to say thanks for reading this. It's keeping me focused and motivated.

This year is one of change. I'm getting married. I'm turning 30. I'm taming the bike-shaped beast that has haunted me for the majority of my life.

Schmaltz over. Tomorrow, I'm hoping to get back on the bike.

Stepping forward

Is there a better dance than the Birdie Dance?
I've been thinking about the whole concept of the 'first dance' at our wedding and I'd like to narrow it down to either the Hokey Cokey or the Birdie Dance. Or Superman by Black Lace.
I'm not sure what the WTB will say.
I'm hoping it is yes.

Please excuse the delirium, I've got a day off on Friday after working on Sunday. It'll be nice to recharge the batteries.

Now we count down to Sunday and Monty's time in the fresh air.

The bike riding is becoming a mix of the elephant in the corner and something I feel I'm rabbiting on about. Whatever it is, the large flop-eared animal is dominating things at the moment.

To take my mind off things I'm going to the gym on Saturday. It'll be the first time in ages and I'm quite looking forward to it. It'll be something different

Then, come Sunday morning, it'll be on with the padded pants, gloves, helmet and we'll head to our top secret cycling spot for lessons.

If you happen to be passing through Cheltenham on Sunday and spot a grown man throwing a temper tantrum while covered in cuts or, if things go badly, you see a bike being thrown across a footpath, be sure to ignore me and pretend it didn't happen.