We took a stroll yesterday, my husband-to-be and I, to our polling station via the laundrette and under the almond trees that grow in what we locals refer to as "dog poo alley" (so twee no?)
The trees are now a lot less blossomy than they were a week ago.
After a moments silence:
him: Hon, I was just thinking about the, um, er ...
(cue frown and a weird sort of sweeping/batting arm wave motion)
chilled west london vibe?
him: no! (a bit annoyed at future wife trying to guess the end of every sentence)
him: you know - the um, stuff you throw ... confetti!
me: confetti? what about it?
him: don't you think we could collect some of this blossom to use at our wedding?
me: it is very confetti like
him: and there is loads of it!
me: (a moments thought - mostly how untypical a groom he is) I'm not really sold on having dogshit scented confetti ... but I like you're thinking.
him: perhaps we should have a tree like this in our garden
me: yes. perhaps we should.
Then we made some democratic Xs and went to the pub.