I met with our wedding florist at the weekend. It was one of the few things I felt brave enough to organise on my own. I appreciate that sounds a tad pathetic, and I do my best to be the smart, independent woman I know I can be, but my anxiety is pretty high these days. Any new situations, meeting new people, and making decisions can be torturous. But at the end of the day, I’m the bride, I know exactly what I have in mind, the colours and the styles, so I bit the bullet.

I must say the two ladies I met were lovely. I didn’t even panic when the little dog decided my ankles needed kisses. The iron staircase was daunting but I took it slowly. And once in their workshop office I was given a cuppa and was a lot more at ease. They are already contracted to our venue to provide the table centrepieces so it made sense from my point of view for them to supply my bouquet, Penny’s posy and the buttonholes and corsages for the bridal party. We talked through styles, I showed them my board on Pinterest I’d created and photos of my mum’s vintage 60s bouquet for an idea of what I envisage.

We discussed the colour scheme, chatted through different flower options and addressed my love of all things sparkly. I felt we were on the same wavelength. They showed me roses of different shades, and various other blooms (don’t ask me the names!) and foliage that would work well together. I took a couple of photos, just to have a visual record of some of the things we discussed.

I left it that they would email a quote through to me and that we would meet again in the autumn to talk specifics. I felt quite accomplished and was eager to share my adventures with Martin when I saw him afterwards. I’m rather enjoying this wedding lark!