Help me, matron!

I have just recovered from a really exhausting weekend. I was down in London at a friend's wedding where I was the 'matron of honour'.

("Matron" - ugh. Isn't there another title for a married bridesmaid? It made me feel like I should be wearing a large apron, for some reason.)

Anyway, I was up at all hours on Friday night making floral headpieces for the flower girls - had to prise the satin roses, organza ribbons and florist wirecutters away from the shaking hands of the exhausted mother-of-the-bride. She was so stressed that she kept bursting into tears at intervals. I had to use my Stern Doctor voice on her, and order her to sit quietly with a cup of tea.

Father-of-the-bride was torn between finishing up his wedding speech and comforting his tear-streaked wife. So I sent him into the next room to have some peace and quiet.

As for the bride-to-be, she was still trying desperately to tie up the loose ends - that is, she was calling everyone involved to double-triple-check-check-check all the details. At quarter-to-midnight, I confiscated her mobile phone. The Stern Doctor voice had no effect on her whatsoever (seeing as she usually works as a nurse) and she managed to sneak off with her mother's mobile phone. Fortunately, I caught her hiding in the closet with it, her finger poised over the dial button. She was made to lie down with icepacks over her face.

So, with everyone's mobile phones in my room, I had the worst night's sleep I've ever had in a long time. Ugh.

The wedding was beautiful, though, and I had a fabulous time.