Last year I took a road trip with my buddy Nikki to the Wedding Day Hooray, an indie wedding marketplace and all around good time in Atlanta, Georgia.  She was pimping her wares and I was hunting for wedding ideas.  It was there that I first spotted the brooch bouquet. A brooch whaaa? A brooch bouquet. A nifty, crafty wedding bouquet made entirely of brooches.  I had never seen anything like but it struck me as such a meaningful way to add a personal touch to my wedding and include my loved ones in the process. 

I decided then and there, a good 16 months in advance, that I would have a brooch bouquet.  I began amassing my collection, picking up pieces at flea markets and antique mills, whenever something caught my eye. I dedicated a special drawer in my office and slowly began filling it. Family and friends have also added to the pile and continue to bring pieces to me. With any luck, I will be carrying lots of love down the aisle. 

Here's a look at my collection thus far....

I've seen brooch bouquets tailored  for each wedding, some unified specifically for color and style. My goal is to have an eclectic piece. Although I've been collecting brooches with flowers and leaves, I ultimately want the bouquet to tell its own story based on my collecting adventures and the family and friends who brought me pieces. I want the bouquet to be  organically constructed rather than a calculated object. This also appears to be the strategy for my entire wedding. 

The cat pin (above right) was my stepmother's who passed just last December. She was a cat lover (as am I) and was so excited for our wedding. When I spoke to her over Thanksgiving she had already booked a room.  I found this pin in her jewelry box and knew I wanted to take it home to honor her memory. 

Below is my favorite pin, the airplane. My father gave it to my mother years ago and she recently brought it to me for the bouquet.  He passed twelve years ago. My two big brothers will be walking me down the aisle and my father will be there in spirit and tucked sweetly into my bouquet. The books and lace in the photo below have all been collected since last January, small bits and pieces that will be spread throughout my wedding decor. All of it carefully curated and selected for a DIY wedding made with nothing but love. 

I'll be posting more photos of the DIY process as we get closer to the date. In fact, a friend recently asked me for a countdown. My wedding is, as of today, 165 days away. Time flies. 

Yesssiree! Me and the Mister are getting hitched ten months from now. I am beyond delighted and pee-my-pants excited  to see all the people we love in one place, celebrating with us.  We're already placing bets on who faints. I've got ten bucks that says the Mister is going down like a Redwood in the California forest.  Get your camcorders ready, people. 

But seriously, planning mode is in full effect and I am dedicated to sharing the journey, all of it, with you including my inspirations, our crafty wedding decorations and other bits and pieces leading up to the big day. With any luck, we'll host a wedding that is undoubtedly us, mostly handmade and full of la-la-la-love. Can't wait! 

 
 Last week, the Mister and I returned from a week in Florida and our engagement photo shoot (squeal!). I was excited for alot of reasons, one because I'm really getting married, I mean, like, for real, real. Two, because we're actually getting married, these photos make it all official and stuff.  And last but not least, we got to spend three hours with the lovely Cat Pennenga of Cat Pennenga Photography. 

Cat and I were neighbors  in an artsy Sarasota neighborhood called Laurel Park years ago.   She was dating a guy who later became her totally adorable husband (and sometimes superstar photo assistant) Greg, and I was, well, I was a hot single mess for a good while. 

Cat lived above me in her little love nest and later moved out with her new husband.  I subsequently met the Mister and we moved into Cat and Greg's love nest and voila! 

Laurel Park Love Magic. Seriously, that apartment is a love factory- it churns out some of  the best and brightest couples. 

As soon as we announced our engagement, Cat asked to shoot us and I instantly agreed. I couldn't think of a better person to do it. We had so much fun! Cat came bearing props and heaps of cute ideas and I had a shirt that became the sensation of the photo shoot. It was, in Cat's words, love overload.  Here's a sneak peek! 

P.S.-There's more pictures of the shoot and the fabulous tea party scene on Cat's blog here. Enjoy! 

So. Much. Fun! I can't get enough of them, really, and am so excited for the rest of the shots. I could look at these a million billion times over. Love them. Thank you, Cat! 

"Abso- lutely not!" I shouted.
"There is no WAY I am living here!  There isn’t any space for our stuff!  And what the hell is this room?! It has NO purpose! 

Cue full blown tantrum mode. 

We were a day out from returning a lease on another house. The rental agreement was signed and the move-in date scheduled. The Mister had been out visiting a friend when a "For Rent" sign caught his eye. He came home and told me about a place he thought I should see. 

According to the Mister, this place had “potential” and the rent was substantially lower. The nice lady across the street was the landlord. I could see the excitement in his eyes so, begrudgingly, I   agreed to take a look. My heart, however,  was already living inside the other house, the one with fresh ink on the agreement. 

 We drove down Walter Henderson road to a little brick house that sat back from the quiet road. We were greeted by a sweet, older black woman named Florence. Florence  Flowers. She had lived on this road since she was a young girl. Her mother and father lived in the house two doors down. Miss Florence lived in the house across the street, the one with the well-manicured lawn. Her sisters still lived on the street too. Miss Lucy was to our right and Miss Jeanette lived next to Miss Florence. There were big trees and chirping birds and, thankfully, no homeowners association. The driveway was quaint and covered with rocks. 

I entered through the side entrance, into the door that was attached to the kitchen. The first thing I noticed was the smell. It smelled of mothballs and cooking grease and it came from a place deep within the pores of the aged, wooden cabinets, a veritable feature of the house.

The linoleum floor, well worn, did little to belie the 1950’s origin of the home. To my left , in the kitchen, was a washer and dryer. There was no laundry room,just a washer and dryer hanging out in the kitchen. I had never seen such a thing.  

I continued into the next room, an empty, windowless square of a room that served as the portal to the rest of the house. I've heard of all-purpose rooms, but this was a "no- purpose room.” Connected were doorways to the living room, single bathroom, bedroom and two other rooms. There was a dim light overhead and that was it.

  And where was the dining room? Well, there wasn't one and there was no logical place to put one. Where were we going to eat?

I peeked into the living room, trying to visualize my furniture in the space and having a hard time figuring out why the front door opened directly into the living room. There was no foyer, no entryway. I pictured guests entering our house like an interruption. I imagined the door swinging open and Person X awkwardly busting through, in Kramer-esque fashion, disturbing my home and most likely blocking my view of the television.

Then there was the space issue. There was none. The closets were impossibly small. The three available closets couldn't even fit my wardrobe, never mind the Mister's clothes and the rest of our stuff (and we had A LOT of stuff). I quickly glanced over the rooms, trying my best to be polite to the nice lady who seemed eager to fill the place. I couldn't get out of there fast enough. As soon as we pulled out of the driveway, I lost my shit.

"NO! No way am I going to live there. Hell no!” I was beyond mad.

 What ensued could only be categorized as one of the top three knockdown drag out fights of our relationship. We were both overwhelmed with uncertainty and fear. Having moved from Florida five short months ago into a living situation we could no longer afford , we were facing our second move in less than six months. This certainly wasn't how we pictured our bold out-of-state relocation. After some impressive yelling and dramatic tears, I agreed to move into the little house on Walter Henderson road. 

Of course, I felt like the Mister owed me something since I was bending to his request/demand/order. I issued my terms, some ultimatum to the effect of  “I’m doing this for you, so you BETTER do something for me! Or else!”

I admit that was a total bitch move, but I wasn't completely sold on the place. I had no idea how we were going to make it work. It was so small and the layout, so awkward. But we did. On July 15, 2010, we packed up and moved out of the house that we were renting from my mother.

Prior to our move-in date Miss Florence, allowed us to come into the house and paint, an unusual luxury for renters. She let the Mister build a garden in the backyard and we moved in during the heat of the summer, hauling kitties and boxes and our entire garden including the soil. We lost a few cucumber plants in the transition, but mostly everything survived. Us included.

Slowly, we took trips to the local home improvement store and found small space solutions for the house. Thanks to Ikea we have a dining nook in the "no-purpose room” and floors that don’t embarrass me. The Mister built me a closet and a shed. We bought storage cabinets. The old man smell was arrested with Nag Champa and Voluspa candles and we are happier than we have ever been. The little house on Walter Henderson road has become a home, our home.

And so, just as fate arranged for us to fall in love with the little house on Walter Henderson road, it has intervened once again for our wedding. Our first (expensive) venue fell through and we were left without a place to get married. After visiting a few other venues that left much to be desired, it hit me.

Directly across the street from us, Miss Florence had lush green grass, a perfect tree and to the well-trained and budget conscious eye, a blank canvas. I gathered the courage to ask Miss Florence and her sisters if we could host a wedding on their property. They agreed.

Our wedding day is set for October 13, 2012 and each morning I wake up knowing that this place, our home, our wedding venue somehow found us. Yes, this must be the place.

Over the next 12 months, I hope to share the stories, ideas, bits and pieces of our plans and cannot wait to include all of you in the journey toward our big day. Thanks for reading!