(Alternate title: Proof that I Am the Most Stunned Person Alive)
Holly at Scattered Words shared her engagement story recently, which prompted me to do the same.
Three years ago today, Pete and I got engaged. It was Thanksgiving Monday. I'd spent the weekend at my parents' in New Brunswick while he stayed at our apartment in Halifax. After all the family festivities, I was planning to drive back to Halifax early Monday morning and spend the holiday with Peter - we were going to have our own little Thanksgiving meal for two.
On Sunday night, Pete called and asked me to give him a call before I left my parents' on Monday so he'd have two hours' notice to "get the meal ready". He allegedly wanted to know right when I was leaving so he'd know how much time he had to go to the gym and do errands before he had to put the dinner on the stove and he specifically asked me to call his cell phone in case he was out. I called him from the gas station on my way out of town.
"Before you get on the road, drive out to the covered bridge," he said.
Well, that's random, I thought. There's a covered bridge outside the town where I grew up. When I was little and my dad and grandfather were getting hay in the summer, I'd go out there and run back and forth in the bridge for hours. I rode my bike out there and loved going for drives through the bridge because Dad would lay on the horn and it echoed and sounded creepy. Peter knew it was one of my favourite places around town and had also spent time driving out to the bridge when he was at the local university, just to get a change of scene and to relax.
However, he was always doing sweet little gestures and random surprises for me so as odd a request as it was to drive out there, I wasn't totally tipped off that something was about to happen. I assumed he'd carved our initials in the bridge somewhere last time he'd been in New Brunswick, or hidden a gift for me or something. Incredibly daft I am.
So I drove out to the bridge and lo and behold, there was Peter, dressed in his nicest suit, waiting for me on the other side. I figured he'd driven up from Halifax to surprise me for Thanksgiving. Yes, even at this point I still had no idea what was going on. I parked my car and gave him a huge hug. "I wasn't expecting to see you here!" I chirped. "What's up?"
COMPLETELY oblivious. Let's look at the facts:
-he had driven 2 hours to get to Sackville - meaning he'd left home before 7:00 AM to make it there
-he was wearing a Hugo Boss suit in the middle of cow pastures
-he had been looking at engagement rings, which I knew
-he was nervous and appeared to be on the verge of throwing up
We walked into the bridge and he was like, "Uhhh, I have a surprise for you," and acting all weird and wound up, and I start LOOKING AROUND THE BRIDGE like a complete dunce, as if there was going to be a present hidden in the rafters or a clown popping out of the walls, like we're just going on a little geocaching adventure.
Peter just gaped at me like seriously, I'm about to propose to the dimmest broad on the block. "It's not on the bridge," he said, grabbed my hand, got down on one knee and pulled out the most perfect diamond ring I have ever seen. He popped the question and I was so excited I forgot to say yes, just nodded like a happy mute. I was completely caught off guard. There was lots of jumping up and down (me), squealing (me) and happy crying (me).
It was definitely one of my happiest days ever - top five for sure.
We got married almost exactly a year later, October 17, 2009.
Here are a couple of our engagement photos, taken at the place where it all went down:
Happy engagaversary, PBSB! It's been an incredible three years and I love you more every day. <3
Holly at Scattered Words shared her engagement story recently, which prompted me to do the same.
Three years ago today, Pete and I got engaged. It was Thanksgiving Monday. I'd spent the weekend at my parents' in New Brunswick while he stayed at our apartment in Halifax. After all the family festivities, I was planning to drive back to Halifax early Monday morning and spend the holiday with Peter - we were going to have our own little Thanksgiving meal for two.
On Sunday night, Pete called and asked me to give him a call before I left my parents' on Monday so he'd have two hours' notice to "get the meal ready". He allegedly wanted to know right when I was leaving so he'd know how much time he had to go to the gym and do errands before he had to put the dinner on the stove and he specifically asked me to call his cell phone in case he was out. I called him from the gas station on my way out of town.
"Before you get on the road, drive out to the covered bridge," he said.
Well, that's random, I thought. There's a covered bridge outside the town where I grew up. When I was little and my dad and grandfather were getting hay in the summer, I'd go out there and run back and forth in the bridge for hours. I rode my bike out there and loved going for drives through the bridge because Dad would lay on the horn and it echoed and sounded creepy. Peter knew it was one of my favourite places around town and had also spent time driving out to the bridge when he was at the local university, just to get a change of scene and to relax.
However, he was always doing sweet little gestures and random surprises for me so as odd a request as it was to drive out there, I wasn't totally tipped off that something was about to happen. I assumed he'd carved our initials in the bridge somewhere last time he'd been in New Brunswick, or hidden a gift for me or something. Incredibly daft I am.
So I drove out to the bridge and lo and behold, there was Peter, dressed in his nicest suit, waiting for me on the other side. I figured he'd driven up from Halifax to surprise me for Thanksgiving. Yes, even at this point I still had no idea what was going on. I parked my car and gave him a huge hug. "I wasn't expecting to see you here!" I chirped. "What's up?"
COMPLETELY oblivious. Let's look at the facts:
-he had driven 2 hours to get to Sackville - meaning he'd left home before 7:00 AM to make it there
-he was wearing a Hugo Boss suit in the middle of cow pastures
-he had been looking at engagement rings, which I knew
-he was nervous and appeared to be on the verge of throwing up
We walked into the bridge and he was like, "Uhhh, I have a surprise for you," and acting all weird and wound up, and I start LOOKING AROUND THE BRIDGE like a complete dunce, as if there was going to be a present hidden in the rafters or a clown popping out of the walls, like we're just going on a little geocaching adventure.
Peter just gaped at me like seriously, I'm about to propose to the dimmest broad on the block. "It's not on the bridge," he said, grabbed my hand, got down on one knee and pulled out the most perfect diamond ring I have ever seen. He popped the question and I was so excited I forgot to say yes, just nodded like a happy mute. I was completely caught off guard. There was lots of jumping up and down (me), squealing (me) and happy crying (me).
It was definitely one of my happiest days ever - top five for sure.
We got married almost exactly a year later, October 17, 2009.
Here are a couple of our engagement photos, taken at the place where it all went down:
Happy engagaversary, PBSB! It's been an incredible three years and I love you more every day. <3
