For Real Engaged

I used to refer to Jack of Most Trades (JoMT) as my fiance-to-be and there is somewhat of an entertaining story behind the label. You see, I knew I was getting a ring approximately 6 months before I got the ring. Here is a piece of advice for anyone planning on proposing to their girlfriend (or boyfriend): do it right away; pull off the Band-Aid in one quick, fluid movement. If you keep putting it off because you are afraid to ask her Dad for permission like JoMT did, there will be no surprise in the end.
I remember the day I found out I was going to be the future Jane of Most Trades. A few days earlier, JoMT had closed his laptop quickly and told me it was a surprise. This was his first mistake. If you don’t want a woman snooping around, say it is work and you don’t want to bore her with it. Of course, because it was a surprise, I was determined to ruin it. Over the next few days I casually sifted through his emails, getting braver and delving deeper into the list of emails each day. There it was, the email in question. I don’t remember the exact subject line but it said something about a diamond. I wish my facial expression could have been captured at the exact moment my eyes met that word.

If you were listening in on the conversation I was having with myself at the time you would hear something like,

“DIAMOND!!? Holyyy ****!”

It is a little disappointing that JoMT was not there to witness my shock and revelation (the real one). I texted my good friend to let her in on the good news. From then on, we referred to the diamond as a “movie” and I obsessed over that thing like nothing else. Here is an example:

Friend: “So, did you get a movie for Christmas?”

Me: “Nope, I can’t sleep.”

Friend: “My other friend got a movie. Maybe you will get one for Valentine’s Day.

Relationships are based on trust and honesty. Don’t lie to your significant other. Unless it’s funny. I knew about this diamond for 6 weeks before I hinted enough for JoMT to figure out I knew. It was very much like a Friends episode. First, I knew. Then, he knew I knew. Next, I knew he knew I knew. Finally, we both came clean over dinner and a couple of beers, had a little nervous laugh and he asked me if I wanted to see it. Second mistake, fellas.

“Well yeah, I want to see it!”

“Ok, do you know where it is? You can’t try it on though.”

“Yes, it is in the gun safe but you have the key. If I could have got in,that baby would already be on my finger. We will see. . . . WOOWWW”

“Ok, you can try it on, but just for a second and then you have to put it back.”

He then proceeded to give me a lesson on diamond quality and told me it was a presentation band and I could choose my own permanent band.

After picking out my band in January, I wore the ring around the house every one in a while and wore it to the grocery store when I felt rather bold. Finally, I told him I wanted a real engagement (even though it was my fault there wasn’t one) and the wait was on. Valentine’s Day slid through our fingers. I gave him every opportunity to spend quality alone time with my Dad to no avail. Later in February, he won us a trip to Mexico that we would take in April. I stopped obsessing for a couple of months because I just KNEW he would propose on the trip.

On the way to the airport at 3AM he convinced me he did not bring the ring because he didn’t want it to get stolen. It proved tough to pretend I wasn’t disgustingly disappointed but I think I was pretty convincing myself. On the last night of our Mexican vacation, after having an amazing time and then both of us getting sick on consecutive days, we decided it best to get out of the room. JoMT had to go back to the room for something he forgot and because I had been vomiting violently all day, I had no objection to his suggestion of me staying behind. As a little background, our resort had many stairs and I did not hear a ‘peep’ out of him about it all week until this last night. We checked out the ocean one last time and put our feet in the water and he asked me to go back to the beach to get the camera. He was acting like a nutcase but I obliged. When I got back to where he was, he had written “Will you Marry Me?” in the sand. It happened exactly how I pictured it. I even gave him the idea a few days earlier. But, he fooled me on our early morning car ride to the airport and continued to pull the wool over my eyes the entire week. I was surprised and I cried a little and then we were for real engaged.

THE END.

Oh, and gentlemen, the third mistake you should never make is as follows. . . Don’t try stuffing the entire ring box into the waistband of your jeans. It’s uncomfortable and unnecessary when the ring itself will fit nicely in a pocket.

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Still Crazy Garden Lady

If you were not convinced of my insanity from my “Crazy Garden Lady” post, maybe this will help. I write this on my laptop which is quickly losing battery life; just like the laptop and our house, soon I too will be powerless*. I know I complain about Mother Nature a lot but I just can’t help myself. The chat I had with her in April must have sparked a flame because she is being a crazy you-know-what again. See more on this in a second.

I had 12 tomato plants that I started from seed at the end of March. I gave 3 away to what I assume were good homes. I was sad to see them go (hysterical) but I will continue to be optimistic and hope they did not meet their early demise. The plants I have left are finally starting to bear fruit. I had an exaggerated sense of euphoria when I first noticed this. Before you start judging, you would be excited too if you nursed something from conception to maturity. It’s like peeing yourself all pregnancy long and the kid coming out with all fingers and toes (I cannot attest to this specifically, and I may always stick to plants, but I’ve heard things). These puppies have really grown over the past few months!

tomato seedlings second transplant tomatoes hardening off tomatoes big tomatoes

The first step toward recovery is to climb out of the hole of denial so here’s the truth. My obsession has expanded beyond the tomatoes. There was one minor snag in my garden plan which has turned into something major for someone of my nature. Jack of Most Trades (who is now not just my fiancé-to-be but my for-real- fiancé) staked out a rather large and grassy area for the garden of my dreams. He tilled up the lovely, rich soil as I swooned over it. I even documented this milestone in our lives by taking way too many pictures. If you are ever thinking about digging a new garden, don’t do it in the Spring and if you absolutely have to, Roundup that shit first. The once beautiful, tall quack grass is AGAIN beautiful, luscious and yes, tall. My garden is green and we don’t have to hill the potatoes because they are shaded by all the dang grass growing in there! The other good news that Jack of Most Trades shared with me the other day is that, “We will never make that mistake again.” By next year, I plan on having the garden of my dreams. The game fence around the garden seemed like extreme overkill but the deer that were walking their stubby hooves through my garden now walk AROUND it and stare longingly at the grass they will never have.

tilling grassy garden

Back to the power story . . . There was a huge storm last night including hail so I am afraid to go outside to see the damage my “pretties” endured. And, to prove that we are the rednecks of the neighborhood, we now have a generator accompanying our BBQ on the front stoop.

*I would like to take this opportunity to put my heart out to those in Southern Alberta who have been tortured by massive flooding. I know you probably feel truly powerless in this situation and I am sorry about what has happened to your homes and communities. It is a sad time and your fellow Albertans are taking action or, at the very least, thinking of and praying for you.