For some, the thought of romance and the like might bring up thoughts of sunshine and unicorns and flowers and all the other stuff being in love is usually accommodated with but for us – it’s garbage. Yes, cans and bags.
Let me explain: As we were so close, yet so far due to a pesky Canada/US border I was only allowed to visit and the weekends I did visit in the USA also, coincidentally was garbage night. The first thing I did after arriving? Take out the garbage, and B would make me a wonderful meal. A quite equitable arrangement.
Also during that time, and especially after this happened I thought I’d better get off the end of the couch and start rustling up some money for an engagement ring and due to my personality I became quite obsessed about one thing at that was to as the song goes: If you like it you better put a ring on it. And, not only did I like B, I loved her and so I started to obsess about engagement rings and I spent more time shopping for diamond engagement rings than I care to admit. I knew all about cut, karat, clarity and color than anybody else.
International Proposals Come with a Challenge
Not only did I have to get my butt in the same country as my bride to be, I had to get the ring there too. If I bought the ring in Canada, I’d have to not only pay much higher canadian taxes, but import the ring into the US too. A big pain. And the only US address I could ship to was her address, and I didn’t want to do that because there goes the surprise, so what’s a guy to do?
A Family Visit and an Opportunity
As luck would present itself, B invited me to go with her to her sister’s for a week long visit in PA. This, was the opportunity I had waited for – I could get the address shipped to her sister’s and not only would this work out as far as logistics, there’s no sales tax to PA too, which at this price point makes a significant difference in the final bill.
So, I order the ring and wait. nervously, I might add.
The ring shows up and it’s beautiful. B knows somethings’ up as I specified I needed to be at the house that morning. Now comes the big event. I have to ask B to marry me. For real, not just filling in the form.
Because B knows something’s up somehow the busy family plans that included all of us now just include us. She suggests a walk at the park. Perfect I think – there’s a babbling brook, park benches – a fantastic spot to get down on bended knee.
Only one problem with this: the second we arrive it starts to pour rain. Not a little shower, but cats and dogs. So we drive back to the house, and because it’s busy with 2 adults, 2 dogs, 2 kids and then us added to the mix there’s not really a great venue for proposing. It’s just too busy. Unless..
Garbage Night Will Never Be The Same Again.
For whatever reason B decides to take out the garbage. I follow her with her big honkin ring in my pocket. I sit down on the stairs while she’s at the end of the street disposing of garbage. “Hey, come sit beside me on the steps” “Look the moon is beautiful”..(which it was) – anything to get her to sit down for a minute so I could propose.
Life is funny. I knew B didn’t care for theatricals and would not appreciate – oh I dunno, an airplane proposal or some other event proposal. That said, I was hoping for something a little better than garbage night, but here we were – and with nary a unicorn or rose bouquet in sight – I slid down to the step below got down on one knee and proposed.
What I said is between B and I, so I won’t share here. I can tell you she said yes. That was one year ago today.
Happy Garbage Night, B.