Plate Fete

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141 Days...

I’m a zealous, fanatical, memory-keeper.  I journal faithfully, not because I usually feel like writing at 11pm, but because I need to remember all the things.  I take pictures of every date, meal, and milestone - often frustrating my sweet fiancé who simply wants to eat his dessert - in the process.  I like to save all of the lovely blessings and the hard lessons for my own remembrance in a metaphorical jar.  That jar may take form in the written word, photos, or in tiny mementoes from happy days.  It is due to this nostalgia-driven compulsion, that I decided to begin cataloging glimpses from my last four months as an unmarried lady.   

I decided this was necessary last week when I fell deep down an adorable rabbit hole on one of my favorite sites, How Sweet It Is.  I found all of Jessica’s hilarious and charming baby posts, and read them for hours before texting my fiancé and saying that we needed to have a baby the moment after we were wed, because I had been obsessively looking at pictures of baby Max, in an entirely non-creepy-but-utterly-smitten fashion.  

Side note: Our Memorial Day picnic was rained out and I watched half a dozen toddlers jump into a lake-sized puddle and all maternal urges dissipated.  So much mud, so many tiny crevices…

After that wonderful internet binge, I decided that I wanted to catalogue that time in my life, whenever it comes, for my own future delight.  I further decided that I should document a few moments of this exciting time in my life as I prepare for a really, really special day.  If you are a somewhat nosey, live-vicariously-through-others kind of lady such as myself, you might love this.  If you just came for a cookie recipe, you can see the Table of Contents, and I apologize for my rambling.  

I just thought it might be time for a little bit more "real life" around here.

We just crossed a milestone.  150 days.  150 short watermelon-and-hot-dog-filled days until the best day.  Actually, it is now 141 days, but I have been waffling over whether or not to post these rambling words for some time now, which is really a shame because 141 just does not have the same ring to it. 

I just picked up my dress Tuesday, and now that it actually fits me, and it’s hanging right there in my own closet, I cannot keep my hands off of it or my body out of it.  It’s all kinds of pretty and I just adore every last detail.  Sitting down in it is…well, I won’t be doing much sitting down anyways, right?   

I am vehemently preparing for marriage by reading all the books, as we psychotic planners do.  I “need” these books about marriage and finance because, “we have no idea what we are doing!”  I think (I know) I am going to do the same thing when I’m pregnant.  Like, “Darling!!!!!!!! we have to read every book on parenting ever written...except the weird ones that will tell me to nurse my child until they are eight.  I mean, I don't think so...  But we have to prepare because a tiny human is going to come out of me!!!!!”  You are sending a look of pity to my valiant fiancé right now, aren’t you?  I knew it.

I just like to prepare.

Thankfully, I have a very kind fiancé that says nice things and buys me big, trashed-up burgers when I’m like, “Wahhhh, I’m going to be a terrible wife.”  

Honeymoon tickets have been booked, pretty luggage bought, and the wedding party is (mostly) outfitted.  The groomsmen still have no pants.  This could be a very interesting day if I can’t find the proper shade of khaki by October.  

We have no wedding bands.  I thought it was simple, but…it’s not simple.  It could be simple if I did not second guess everything, but I keep thinking, “oh my goodness, I have to wear this thing forever!”  So…still no bands.

Even though it feels like there is still so much to be done, and even though all of those things have to be done in 141 days, the past few weeks have been the sweetest of the entire planning process.  When we hit the 5-month mark, I realized that I was tired of obsessing over color swatches and trying to please everyone with this affair.  It all faded to the background, as if I finally adjusted my depth of field so that all of my focus was directed to him.  I get to marry my best friend, and that’s an incredible privilege, regardless of whether or not the bridesmaids’ shoes match. 

Sincerely, 

Pedantic Foodie