A Blessing Of Flames

My new favourite sound is the pop of a champagne cork.  There was lots of popping this weekend to officially celebrate the engagement of The Butterfly and The Penguin.  Saturday saw 364 days until the wedding.  Not even a little rain could damper our mood or the bonfire.

Sarge’s best man has a burning twice year.  Bits of wood and old furniture go up in flames in the name of friendship and film references.  This time, we called it an Engagement Burning and toasted marshmallows and bubbly.

A lot of the photos featured a chicken hat.  And me stuffing my face.  When I wasn’t eating, I was laughing.  Or exclaiming ‘I’m getting freakin’ married’, at which point I would hug Sarge. Or a member of the Bridal Crew.  Or my Dad.  Whoever was with closer.

At various points during the day, I thought of people who couldn’t be there.  And I had a moment for each of them.  And then we got serenaded under a gazebo by the only friend I have who has curlier hair than I do.

Dad wore his beard hat, which looks surprisingly like his own beard.  There in the rain with Dad on one side and Sarge on the other I thought, best day ever.  And then Dad said, ‘I’ll be alright.’

‘Yes.  Best day ever,’ I said aloud.

‘So far,’ said Sarge.

Most people left to catch the last train, but there was dancing and singing in the living-room until 3 AM.   Everything from Queen to Edith Piaf to Starship.  And nostalgia mixed with YouTube and cider results in The Macarena.

‘Lorna, turn off the video.’

‘It’s not on.  Iforgottopressthebutton.’

The next day, after coming home with cards and flowers and a patched up flat tire, the conversation went something like this:

‘If you delete the video, I’ll delete that photo of you and the marshmallow skewer,’ said Sarge.

‘Deal,’ I said.

Our relationship is based on love, respect and lack of blackmail evidence.

Photos courtesy of my future sister-in-law and FotoRus.

Thinking Outside The Card

I’m 31 on the 31st!

Had to share my card from Sarge! Who else would it be from?

What did you do on your 31st birthday?  If you haven’t had it yet, make it up!

Real paragraphs tomorrow or Monday!

It Takes A Village

And so, as I was saying, a few weekends ago, Sarge and I took Frodo-Bob ring-shopping.

Maybe it was the complimentary champagne they gave us in the first shop, but the third ring I tried on made me cry.  It was as if it had always been there.  I (grudgingly) left it to traipse around other shops.  But every other ring looked like costume jewellery.  Which has its place, but not on your wedding finger.  And there was no more complimentary champagne.

I had found The One.

We met Dad, Anne and two of the bridesmaids for celebratory noodles, before the final sign-off on my ring and our wedding bands.  Sarge tried his on, and my heart skipped three whole beats.   Maybe ten.

We brought everyone with us to see the rings.  As I said to the very lovely and patient salesperson, ‘It takes a village.’

Now, my actual ring had to be made.  A two week wait.

The ring was early.  I may have screamed in Sarge’s ear when he told me it was.  As a matter of fact, I did.

On Saturday, we took Frodo-Bob to fulfill his purpose as ring-box.  Everyone in the shop was very impressed with him.

Sarge, FB and I carried the precious ring to the coffee shop where we ended our seven-hour first date.  He got on one knee and asked me.  Again.  And I said yes.  Again.

Sarge's lovely assistant.

 

And in a full circle moment, I believe the people at the next table were having their first date.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Back to our story, some time later…

Mission accomplished.

 

 

 

A Path of Pebbles

29 February, 2012. 5.19 pm

I left work to light some candles and change into a dress.  The same one I wore for the first party Sarge and I threw together.

5.40

CJ kindly spent the evening in the living room so my PA could set a path of pebbles from the front door to the bedroom.

I stayed put, with a cup of coffee and a candy ring.

6.01

Sarge texted to say he was doing Senior Software Geek stuff and would be home by 8.  Instead of blowing out the candles and picking up the pebbles, I stayed in the bedroom for two and a half hours.  I couldn’t concentrate on my book.  Or breathe.  I may have managed to play Bejeweled Blitz, bargaining with my score.

8.43

I was down to two candles.  Sage came in with shopping bags and toilet paper.  ‘You got me pebbles.’  He might have cried before stepping into the bedroom.  And then I forgot the time.

He kisses me.

‘Are we going to do this with toilet rolls in your hand?’

‘No’, he says and puts the shopping away.  I’m still in the bedroom.  I may have been wondering if he’d jumped out the window.

He comes back.

I gave him two pebbles.

‘Now, I’m not balanced enough for one knee,’ I said.  And so, I got down on both.

And then I cried and said some mushy stuff, and ended with, ‘Will you marry me?’

And then he said some mushy stuff and cried and then I cried some more and we hugged and I might have said, ‘Wait, did you just say yes?’

‘Yes,’ he said.

‘Holy shit,’ I said.

And then he says, ‘Would you like to get up now?’

‘Yeah, now is good.’

I put the candy ring on his finger.

He reaches for something.  It’s a penguin.  It’s a penguin ring box.

‘What is THAT?’

I open the box.  It’s empty.

‘I thought we could choose one this weekend.’ And then he chooses another candy ring.  Gets on one knee and says, ‘You’re awesome.  Will you marry me?’

‘YES!’

Best proposal ever.  We asked each other.  I figure that’s a good start.

The candy rings are in the fridge, waiting to be varnished and framed.

On Saturday, we took Frodo Bob Box to Glasgow on the quest for the ring.  That day gets its own post!