Tomorrow, there will be a wedding.
Something I never thought I'd attend as the bride.
Indeed, five years ago, I would have placed bets on never getting married, if I was a betting sort of person.
Five years ago, I was also convinced that I would never settle down with somebody.
(I did allow for the possibility that a relationship would work if my partner and I lived in separate houses, or he was a fly in-fly out worker, but other than that - nope. Just couldn't see it.)
That changed five months ago, on a beach in northern Western Australia.
Tomorrow, I will no doubt be nervous. There will probably be worries. The weather. Everyone arriving. Me arriving. Getting my dress on. Not falling over. After reading Lou's post, not burning my hair.
But tomorrow, I will also be happy and I will know that I am very, very lucky.
To have found the one man I can imagine spending the rest of my life with, and to be confirming that commitment, seems like the single most important thing in the world.
So whilst August involved a lot, the thing that sticks with me, as I look back, is not really August at all.
It is the looking ahead to tomorrow, the first day of September, and to what I hope with all my heart will be many days and weeks and months and years ahead.