In twenty hours I'll be married again. I still have a couple of things to do before the wedding-iron Paul's shirt, finish the flowers, finish the favours. Just enough to keep me busy the last few hours to go.

I woke up early this morning and instead of getting up I lay there thinking-am I sure, why am I marrying again, what do I expect from this marriage...Yes, questions I asked myself over and over the past eight months since Paul asked me to consider marrying him. I guess it was just a final review, lol!

Such a strange life I've led since my last marriage broke up. I look at all of the things I've been through, watched happen to the world, I think of the years Fox and I were estranged. So many changes especially in the last eight months!

And now I'm going to be Mrs Homemaker, again. The past five months have been a big help as we wound our way through the process of making sure we really did want to be married, and then all of the paperwork associated with a foreign national marrying a British citizen-we've had ample time to realise we can indeed share a tiny Scottish bathroom, agree to disagree, and the best part of determining that we apparently have no deal-breakers looming.

I lay there this morning thinking about how strange it is to be marrying a man who was able to retire young, and how strange it is to not be a young couple planning when the children are to come along, and how we'll pay for their education. Marrying at a later stage in life is so strange, I can't help comparisons sometimes between what life will be like with Paul as opposed to what it was with Crusty.

I was a good wife to Crusty, far better than he deserved. He is alive and has a good retirement ahead of him (as far as I know, he may have gummed up all that hard work I did, who knows or cares at this point) because I was such a good wife-I very occasionally wonder if he thinks about all of that?

I wasn't here with Paul as he went through his career-I don't have countless hours logged ironing his shirts, making his breakfast so that he could get to work on time and looking smart; no hours logged at the teas and luncheons, cocktail parties, weekend parties I would have attended, hostessed, gossiped about, made sure he and I looked smart, and showed good manners-some of all the things a wife does.

We are in the middle of our lives, God willing, not the start, and we both come bearing baggage from our pasts, but not a shared steamer trunk of memories that middle-aged people rely on to get through the first years after kids and jobs are gone.

I feel funny about that. There is no 'ex-wife and three children' lurking in Paul's shadows, I'm his first (and last:) wife. He did what he did alone, and I feel a bit strange about sharing the harvest, so to speak.

This all should be interesting. No-one really expected that I would fire-sale my place in GA and move countries, and no-one really expected that I would ever marry again after what happened with the guy I thought I was going to marry three years ago Christmas-heh, he never asked me to come to London. Now here I am in Scotland.

And in 19 hours, I'll be a homemaker again.

I hope to God I remember how!