A Quiet Sunday, An Engagement & A Potato
Been a bit of a week hasn’t it? Mad busy at work, a weekend in the New Forest, my twenty sixth birthday and a proposal.
You’re probably more shocked than I was.
Yes after 8 and a half years together since the ripe old age of 17 and a million drunken proposals, he asked a sober one and I said yes.
I wasn’t sure if I’d write a post like this, if an engagement announcement was really me but actually it’s something nice to look back on innit, to document this part of my life and also I will probably pop it on Instagram and it’s always good to drive a lil bit of traffic this way no?
So no it wasn’t really a surprise in as much as I knew it was going to be some time this year. I don’t think you get to 8 and a half years without having ‘the discussion’ about whether or not we think we’re in this for the long haul. We always knew we’d get married, I always knew he’d ask, he always knew I’d say yes. I think realistically he’d have asked a long time ago but I’ve been putting it off for years now “after we graduate”, “after we have a house”, “after we have more money”…..there never seemed the perfect time to do it. But equally I didn’t want to put it off forever, so 2018 seemed as good a time as any.
The later into the year we were getting the more the pressure seemed to pile on for the ‘perfect’ proposal. I didn’t want to be around people but wanted to be able to tell my Mum face to face first. I didn’t want it to be on an event like Christmas or my birthday or our anniversary. I wanted to be able to phone everyone and tell them ourselves but equally be able to see them soon. And the more the pressure mounted for the perfect time the more freaked out I was getting about it and then it just kinda hit me like a train. Why did it need to be a big perfect romantic gesture? That’s never been me. Nothing was to change except a ring on my finger and a few phone calls to confirm it. So a few weeks ago on a quiet Sunday we talked about it and he said “but there is no perfect time”. So I said “just ask me then”. And the rest as they say folks, is history. Sat on the stairs of my house, halfway through the hoovering in my trackies with a new sparkly ring on my left hand. The most me proposal ever.
No I don’t feel engaged, no I don’t feel any different and no I still haven’t got used to a ring on that finger. My engagement ring is Jos’ great great great grandmother’s from the 1870s that has been passed down and down and is 5 tiny diamonds set on the thinnest gold band. I hadn’t actually seen it before as it was the only thing I wanted kept a secret but it had been resized (down 6 sizes) which he had done in the jewellery quarter in Birmingham back in June, somewhere his Dad has had rings made for his Mum and his grandfather for his grandmother. It’s absolutely tiny both in detail and in actual size and is incredibly understated and me and I luckily love it.
Now the proposal is done and dusted some might move straight on to wedding planning but oh no, not I. In my mind that’s one stressful occasion done, may as well put the next one off for the next 8 and a half years. But in all seriousness we will likely get married in early 2020 as there are other family weddings next year, it’ll give us time to save and we’ll have been together 10 years by then so it all has a nice ring to it. Other than that? Haven’t given it a second thought. Be prepared for 18 months worth of the most blasé bride to be my friends.
The bit you were really here for let’s be honest? Sometimes in life you meet 4 bloggers on Twitter and one of them suggests hosting a picnic for other bloggers. Sometimes you meet strangers from the internet irl and realise they’re pretty great so book a holiday with them. Sometimes those internet weirdos become your best friends and you go to their weddings and talk errday and they become like fam. And sometimes, but probably not in most cases, your 4 friends who you met on Twitter send you two potatoes in the post as an engagement present and you realise these nutcases really are your ride or dies.
But the best part of it all? When the company uses the potatoes as a promo and another friend from a million miles away and a whole other friendship group just happens to see it on Facebook before you’re received your spud gift. And suddenly you’re tagged in posts and Instagrams and “IS THAT YOU ON A POTATO?” and you realise what you bat shit friends have done. You couldn’t make it up and whether I saw it online first or opened the box in person, you really can’t fail to be surprised by a maris piper with your face on it.