I have at least three posts in my head, but time has been short lately.

The most pertinent to the purpose of this site is that we have figured out the flowers. (Really, I have figured out the flowers; James declined my invitation to the florist.)

My intrepid maid of honor, Heather, and I headed over to Country Gardeners in Millerton to see what they had to offer.

I have to admit, I’ve been procrastinating this task. I know so little about flowers, except that they are pretty and expensive. Pretty expensive. And knowing how much Sharon just spent on flowers, I was dreading this whole experience.

But Joanne, the owner, was wonderful. Down-to-earth and low pressure. We’re paying for the flowers a la carte; no packages, no minimum amount to spend. The initial estimate we worked up came to only about $500. I was so psyched.

I’m going to attempt to describe the floral scheme, but as my floral vocabulary is lacking, please bear with me.

I used silk green and white hydrangeas and green, white and orange gerbera daisies for the pew decorations. With copper ribbon.

I like hydrangeas, but they aren’t essential. Just using what she had in the cooler, Joanne came up with a gorgeous bouquet of white stalk (?), supra green roses, hypericum berries and orange gerberas. And she’s going to wrap the stems in copper and loop some copper wire over the top.

Other bouquets and arrangements will be a variation on that theme. I talked to Mom, and she liked the little bouquet that my aunt had at Sharon’s wedding, so we’ll probably do something like that for the mothers. And all the guys are getting boutonnieres of hypericum berries. James can have a flower with his, too. Whatever he wants.

For centerpieces, I’m doing fishbowls with colored stones and floating candles. I want to float a gerbera head in there, too. Since we’ll only have 10 to 12 tables, I’ll probably get those flowers through Country Gardeners, too.

I called to say we’re definitely going to use them; now I just have to drop off a check.

I keep feeling the urge to sit down and organize everything wedding-related, but when I think about doing it, I’m completely overwhelmed. That “4 months” in my countdown ticker is making me nervous. That’s not very much time.

Sometimes I wish it would just get here, already. As much as I’m enjoying the planning and the excuse to drool over flowers and gowns, I hate the waiting.

And I’m starting to hate the transition in the relationship. I feel like James and I are in limbo. Every disagreement has hanging on it the unspoken thought: “Can we get through this? Is there a sign in here somewhere?”

It’s so frustrating because saying yes to James was the easiest decision I ever made in my life. I don’t ever doubt it. But I feel like I should, and that confuses me.

For so many years, it was ingrained in me by school, work, that whole big question of what are you going to do with your life? to do what I want; don’t depend on others for happiness.

But since I’ve met James, I’ve found that kind of thinking to be backwards. The lowest points in my life have been when I’ve felt bereft of human companionship, when I’ve felt alone and un-cared-for.

What schools and career paths don’t prepare you for is that time when who you love and how you love them are more important than what you do and how much you make.

There is a decided pressure on my generation, especially the female members of it, to save the world or make a million bucks. — but don’t fall into the trap of caring for your husband or children. Cause that’s a step backwards.

This time of transition is so painful, I think, because I am trying to get my head around the idea that most of what I’ve been told is wrong. I don’t plan to give up my career or my dreams when I get married, but I am realizing that I am no longer an individual.

We’re not having a unity candle at our ceremony and part of the reasoning is that we are not two becoming one. We will still be two. But together, we will be something more.

Growing is hard and painful and scary. But at least I’m not doing it alone.

I know I promised a full report on Sharon’s wedding, but I just haven’t gotten there yet. However, I did just respond to a question on a wedding board asking, “When did you know your fiance was a keeper?”

Here’s my answer:

I’m not sure I have an exact moment…the feeling kinda snuck up on me, and was suddenly just there, fully bloomed.

We were friends for a few months before we started dating. I was seeing someone else, and when we broke up, James (FH) showed up at my house with a bottle of wine and a bag of Smartfood. And a shoulder to cry on.

He was the one who took me out for pizza to celebrate the first draft of the first chapter of my thesis.

He was the one who helped me through three batches of not-quite-right fudge to make Christmas presents for my family.

He is the one who fed, cleaned up after and played with my rabbits while I was away for two weeks.

He is the one who tells me I’m beautiful when I’m just lounging around the house in sweats.

He is the one who lugs firewood up from the basement and builds me a fire when I’m cold.

He is the one who refurbished a computer for my parents after seeing how badly theirs was performing.

He is the one who dealt with the alarm company after I burned food in the toaster and set off an ear-piercing alarm where I was house-sitting.

He is the one who holds me when I’m sad and laughs with me when I’m happy. He is the one I want to tell my news. He is the one I want to see first thing in the morning and last thing at night.

I can’t pinpoint the exact moment I knew we would be married. I remember having a discussion about when we wanted to buy a house together. It wasn’t until after he proposed it occurred to me that most people plan the wedding, then think about buying the house. It just seemed so natural that we would be together, as if the marriage were inevitable, so we didn’t even have to discuss it.

I suppose the moment that drove it home more than anything was the first Christmas we spent together. My parents were visiting and while I was helping my mom wrap gifts, she turned to me and said, “Do you think he’s a keeper? Cause I do.”