A sky like today (if you’re not in Oxfordshire, just to let you know, it’s GRIM: it’s grey and it rains a fair bit, enough to fill our water butts!) reminds me what it could actually be like on our wedding day. Horror! I try not to think about the kind of weather it might be that day, but sometimes, it’s impossible not to wonder. The wedding is now less than four weeks away (I just can’t believe it!) and every now and again, I want to stop somebody in the street and ask them: ‘Do you know what the weather will be like on 22nd July?’. Sometimes it feels like the words really will come out of my mouth. Sometimes I feel that somebody will know for sure. But of course, until the day before, nobody will know, really.
When I remember what the weather was like on 26th July last year, when we first saw the venue, I shiver. It was grey, not very warm, and even if it wasn’t raining, I really hope it won’t be that bad on 22nd July this year...
In a few weeks’ time, I’ll be Mrs Y, after being Miss X for nearly 30 years... It will feel strange for a while, but at the same time I can’t wait to change my name. It’s been such a hard name to carry, all these years. Mind you, Y is just as difficult to understand and spell. But it will define me in a different way: I'll be French, with a weird Corsican first name, married to an Englishman, with a funny, always-have-to-spell-it last name...
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