be at work

Be and Mr D.

Merry Sunday all.  Its bright this morning, no?

We’re going for a walk, stuffing our merry wee faces (I’m thinking pancakes), then putting comfys on, and staying in them.  ALL day.  What about you folk?

This week has been BUSY and very wedding-y.  Those of you who saw our blogtales about THE CandySnaps Shoot on Tuesday will see why.  I was even wearing my favourite bride-y lady dress.  And Mr D looking awfy dapper in his old attire (and tache) made me want to marry him even more (yup, that was a bit boke-y, but true).  It was bound to make us start the w-day chat again.  We did even consider getting a last minute marraige-person to come along on Tuesday and get us husband & wife’d right there in all our gear.  Would have been perfect, apart from the loved ones not being there (the lovelies involved would have made really nice guests though…) but no, we didn’t.  We just pretended to.  A couple of hoodwinks.  And now we are back to the chat.

We want to get married.

We wanted to do it this year.

We would do it tomorrow.

But, as agreed as we are on all things wedding, things happen, life gets in the way, money, ehhhh, isn’t growing on my tree for some reason, Be Eventful started being eventful, and all things job-like changed in Mr D’s days, and so we put the plans in a drawer (literally, our napkins and post its which make up our wedding ideas are in a drawer) just for a while.

That was last year.  And this year?  Everythings back out, the bits of napkin are flying and 2 (yup 2!) venues are filling our noggins with light from the end of the stressy wedding day tunnel. (and ones a re-visit… oh the excitements shook me shakey).

SO cross your digits and I will keep you all blogposted!  A marriage there will be!!

Anyway, because of all the future jabber.. it got us thinking about how we ended up on this sofa, in our wee roost, wanting to marry each other.. and I found this..

Me and Mr Dawson.


Charlotte and I are out.  Its a Friday night.  It was just a few drinks.  It turned into a fubar (a place drunk people go to dance when, well when they are very drunk).  And it was there I met John.  Should I say, he met me.  I was too drunk to really take notice.  Drunk and very much dancing.  We bumped in to him outside again, I don’t really recall, but he told Charlotte his thoughts… I got a taxi home.  I slept in for work.  I was hungover but work was fun.  And I had a curious memory of meeting someone interesting…


Charlotte and I are out.  Its Christmas eve.  We are both happy, christmassy and surprisingly still sober.  Its friggin’ freezing outside, pavements just paths of slush and ice, but inside the pubs its warm and glowy and loud and red.  We are dressed all nice and having good chat.  We decide to go to another pub.  Busy busy, and then Charlotte.. “Theres that Dawson lad…”.  Yup, there he is standing on steps waving his arms about to the music (its not a dancing kind of pub… but fair enough, what he was doing..not really dancing).  My wee curious memory was right… He was definitely.. interesting.  Two hands round my waist.  Hi Claire.  Ah so he was good looking.  I remembered now.  But I think he likes himself a bit much.  I say Hi, sorry whats your name again?  HaHa I think.. Mean.  But he looks upset, and he is interesting.  Maybe I like him as much as he likes himself.  Maybe he’s right about himself.  Interesting.


Charlotte and I are still out.  And we are merry.  We contemplate a fubar, but no, its Christmas, lets be nice and go to another just-pub.  We do (thank fecky).  Even warmer and louder and redder.  It was christmas in there.  And soon-to-be-Mr-D is there.  We drink Christmassy things, we chat in a Festive fashion, I’m wearing one of Santas spare hats.  I’m drunk again.  And very much dancing.  And Mr D is still there.

He’s been there ever since.


And now for a nap.  Happy Sunday.

Love Claire.

Me: Crimbo 2009. Oh dear.  Yup, thats how we met.



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