I kind of had bits of an entry forming in my mind over the last few days but now I just feel like getting the basics down and going to bed.

The wedding was really nice. We had it at the Wollongong Botanic Garden, in gazebo in the Rose Garden. The forecasts had been for rain and cloud, but it turned out to be a beautiful, sunny - windy - day.

I have a tendency to cry at other people's weddings, so it should come as no surprise that I pretty much bawled at my own. I had a couple of tissues stuffed down the front of my dress at the ready though (classy, I know).

Pandering to popular request, I did wear a veil. Pandering again, I wore it down over my face (I'd like to throw in the phrase "kicking and screaming" here). Originally I wasn't going to wear a veil at all because I thought they were stupid and old-fashioned. I'm actually kind of glad I did wear it, even if it did turn out to be a crazy windy day and I spent an inordinate amount of time flapping my arms about trying to keep this determinedly blustery bit of white tulle in check.

Daniel's brother's facial expression during the ceremony was inscrutable. He looked ... kind of serene, proud, perhaps a hint of "aw" in there somewhere.

The two other groomsmen looked as though they were just waiting for a chance to play up. They cracked jokes during the photos, and ended up linking arms and skipping into the reception together when the bridal party was formally announced. (I, on the other hand, felt like Toni Collette in Muriel's Wedding when we were introduced. The applause and cheering was overwhelming - everyone stood up, clapping and making noise for us as we entered and I was just laughing and feeling incredibly ... loved.)

My mum and sister had done the readings during the ceremony very well. All the speeches at the reception were great. The reception itself was beautiful - lighting was dim, atmosphere in the marquee was warm and friendly, food was fantastic (everyone commented), and not everyone who had the chance to hold the microphone used it for good - myself included. (Whose idea was it to top up my champagne all night and then ask me to make a speech?)

Somebody nudged me halfway through the evening and pointed behind me. When I turned around there was a conga line snaking its way round the table where I was sitting. I was kinda proud that a conga line had formed at my wedding reception.

The whole evening flew by in a blur. I spent most of the evening going round to all the tables trying to make sure I talked to everyone and thanked them for coming (because spending 40 minutes at the end of the evening making people wait as we thank them individually is not my idea of a fun time).

Our accommodation that night was the dodgiest I'd ever stayed in. Green woollen shag carpet (not properly vacuumed, so when I dropped my sticky "chicken fillet" bra on the ground and picked it up again, there was a dead fly stuck to it), genuine '70s olive green bar fridge, wood veneer walls, musty smell ... I found it pretty funny, to tell the truth. Apparently our room was the "honeymoon suite".

Anyway, back to work tomorrow and I'm tired. I'll try to write about our few days down the south coast next time. For now, there are some semi-transparent pink things that my husband is requesting I try on for his approval.