12 years ago…

Twelve years ago today, Mr PB and I were married in Hobart in front of our dearest family members and friends. That seems like a lifetime ago now! It was certainly a time in our lives far removed from the noise and clamour of daily life on Planet Baby. Back then, we were concerned about such highly important matters as:

* Would Mr PB’s groomsmen play a practical joke and write ‘Save me’ in texta on the soles of his shoes, to be revealed in all its glory when he knelt down at the altar to pray? (No, they didn’t. Our wise old minister checked his soles before the groomsmen headed to the altar to wait for us girls to arrive!)

* Would Mr PB’s iris stay in his buttonhole properly? (Hmm, it didn’t. Irises were our wedding flower but we hadn’t thought the whole ‘buttonhole effect’ through. The iris was enormous and by the end of the ceremony, its head had drooped so it was upside-down, something I hurriedly rectified as we strode back down the aisle of the Cathedral, greeting well-wishers along the way.)

* Would Mr PB manage not to walk on my white bridal train? (Er, no, he didn’t. At one point of our promenade back down the aisle, I was pulled up in my tracks by a firmly planted dark shoe on my spotless silk dress. Which left a large black footprint. Sigh.)

* Would we be able to pull off the Bridal Waltz? (After many lessons, we did it. To Frank Sinatra’s ‘I’ve got you under my skin’ – the version with Bono. Mind you, as the video records *for all posterity*, Mr PB was so proud of his fancy footwork, he serenely sailed around the dance floor smiling at everyone else. Not at me! You should see him looking over my head at everyone else.)

Yes, I am a shorty - see him leaning in towards me?

* Would the photographer carry enough film with him to make it through the night? (Remember the good old pre-digital days? Well, he didn’t, much to our chagrin. He ran out of colour film just before the all important traditional photo-of-the-happy-couple-with-Mr-PB’s-parents-and-his-five-siblings-and-their-spouses shot. Which ended up in black and white. For the first time in his family’s history. All his other siblings had theirs taken in colour. Sigh.)

Hmm, they were the *big* life questions back then!

On that day, we would never have imagined that 12 years later, we would:

* Spend 11 years living in glorious Sydney (we thought maybe it would be for a few years);

* Arrive on Planet Baby so much later than we had expected and hoped for;

* Be chasing around three gorgeous pixies with only 3½ years separating them; and

* Be served up a meal of plastic food by the older pixies tonight, all ever so carefully and lovingly prepared “for your anniversary, Mummy. We’re going to cook you dinner every year for your wedding anniversary”. Bless them.

Today was not marked on PB by romantic declarations of love or even some time for Mr PB and me to be alone. No, it was celebrated in far more *prosaic* fashion – by emptying out the entire contents of the shed in our first ever let’s-sort-out-all-our-worldly-possessions-which-have been-shoved-in-boxes-since-we-got-married-12-years-ago moment! Yep, our life on the lawn!



Call me crazy, I know – not *exactly* my preference either but it coincided with a certain we’re-starting-a-new-year-but-we’re-completely-disorganised-and-can’t-even-open-the-shed-door-without-something-falling-on-us thought. Of mine. Oh, and that was coupled with a I-want-to-find-my-childhood-autograph-book-and-Holly-Hobby-swapcards-to-show-the-pixies thought. Er, yes, mine again.

Anyway, after a few *terse* words, Mr PB got on board and we soldiered on through an afternoon of finding and sorting. Hardly glamorous but eminently useful. We found treasured childhood toys and books which the pixies can now bring to life again. And I found my autograph book. As well as my bridal shoes and my wedding dress. Now I just need to find that old U2 CD and Mr PB and I can trip the light fantastic in what’s left of our anniversary!