They say getting married and moving home are two of life's most stressful milestones.
So with the wedding firmly under our belt, and the huge dent in the wallet to prove it, we've turned our attentions to finding the perfect family home.

They say couples should start out on the path to married life with no secrets.
My sentiments exactly. My husband however, has other ideas.

MRS Corbett here. (Yes, as in Ronnie.)
So I finally did it. I walked down that aisle, emotionally yet elegantly, and kissed goodbye to single life.

AFTER 12 months in the planning and a sum I don't wish to calculate, it's finally here.
In just 4 days time I will no longer be an hysterical bride-to-be. I will be an even more hysterical wife.

Despite all the major arrangements being signed and sealed, the fine tuning of our forthcoming nuptials has been the cause of many a sleepless night. For me that is....

TEN weeks to go and the nerves are starting to set in.
With a million 'T's to cross and 'I's to dot, and a full time job to boot, the mind is starting to boggle.

ON my big day I'm going to give myself a good old pat on the back.
I may even stand up and raise a toast. To myself.

WHO could have dreamt that the humble cake could be the cause of such controversy?
Believe it or not, this lowly mix of flower, eggs and sugar has been the root of much animosity within the Craggs/Corbett camp in recent months.

AS I'm beginning to discover, there are a myriad of worries that come with planning a wedding.

And as a bride-to-be obsessed with attention to detail, my worries are running far deeper than I'd ever imagined.

THE second Big Ben struck 12, it dawned on me.
In six months, 182.621099 days to be precise, I will become the new Mrs Corbett.
I never loved my surname before now. In fact, I've always thought it rather odd. Yet the thought of it being taken away from me brings about a strange sadness.