Forgive me if I am not quite myself at the moment. I am heavily involved in a friend’s ‘wedmin’. She introduced me to the word and consequently the plethora of miseries it covers. It’s short for ‘wedding administration’, regarding which there are no other abbreviations, short cuts, abridgement, truncations, condensations, curtailments or any other synonym that might suggest the saving of time or effort. Everything must be gone through with a fine-tooth comb. Otherwise we might end up with caterers who use cotton instead of linen tablecloths. Or deckle-edged orders of service that say “3pm” instead of “3 o’clock”. Or thermographed instead of engraved invitations. Or cream centrepieces instead of almond. I beg you not to imagine the horror!
But I am a good friend and only very occasionally wish her (and her fiancé, who just happens to be “working abroad” on a contract that runs coincidentally throughout the whole wedding preparation period) to be caught up in a ‘firenado’ (submitted by tikitaka) and burned to death. This is a whirlwind induced by a fire. It sucks in burning debris, hot gases and ash – often reigniting the latter – and I think could make short work of any dress swatches, cake samples, menu option lists, venue quotes, draft table plans (and all their colour-coded flags and pins) and – I’m sorry. This really is my problem, not yours.
Let us turn to newcomer Vendetta (and let me placate you from off, Vendetta, and say what an excellent name you’ve chosen and how I hope we have a long and fruitful relationship based on nothing but kindness and regard) and his/her submission “snoise” – the noise you make when you sneeze. My husband is into the second week of his monthly cold at the moment and I would give anything to hear an emanation as discreet, wholesome and decorous as the one “snoise” suggests. Whenever he lets rip I think someone is blasting a quarry. But if I leave the house my friend is waiting with more dress swatches for me to feign opinions about. But again, my problem, I’ll leave it there.
Moneill and another new contributor – welcome, Weefatfalla! – have both contributed sartorial innovations; “coatigan” – a long cardigan that may, especially in more temperate seasons, double as a coat – and “shumper” respectively. A “shumper” is a jumper with a shirt collar attached so that it looks as if you are wearing both when you are in fact – not! A layered look without the layers of hassle! I had a look and they do indeed exist, which means my dream of “tickers”, or “knights” (tights with knickers already inside) can live again.
Finally, there was (from tikitaka once more) the delightful “hairy panic”. This normally best describes the state of mind that has me scrambling for my black opaques in the morning (I need to shave my legs at midnight if I don’t want to be frightened when I get dressed), but apparently it is also the name of a fast-growing Australian tumbleweed that is toxic to sheep (it gives them something called “yellow bighead”. Their heads swell up and turn yellow. Australia is a magnificently literal country) and the bane and terror of rural antipodean life.
There is something in me that wants to suggest it as a wedding theme. With yellow bighead centrepieces. I’ll let you know how it goes.
