How It All Began

A dear friend of mine is getting ready to propose to his girlfriend - which I am all for, she's a dear - and it got me to thinking about when Tarzan and I got engaged. It was long ago in Italy...well not really, but all good stories should start that way don't you think?
Really it was the summer between my fourth and fifth years of college. (I'm not SO slow, architecture is a five year degree at USC so I came out with a Bachelor of Architecture, rather than a Bachelor of Arts in Architecture, which requires an additional two year master's degree, but whatevs.)
Tarzan and I had been dating for a while - and that, in and of itself, is a story because I was dating a mutual friend which is how Tarzan and I started hanging out and then the other dude graduated and Tarzan made me dinner and we wrote all that summer and figured out some stuff (I TOTALLY DID NOT DUMP HIM, Rocketgirl!) and then we were dating for real and then somehow talking about getting hitched - and so we had picked a ring we both liked and he said he would surprise me with it some time around my birthday or Christmas. This was very cool for me. I was finally seeing the end of a very long tunnel and was really anxious to be back in the light. Tarzan, bless him, had graduated in the spring and was working like a dog already, but he found the time to take me out to dinner the night before school started. It seemed like a long drive but the restaurant had been recommended by an aunt and uncle who are in the know, so we went. Up the coast and into the hills and then down a long, dark road that barely had room for our car, let alone an approaching car. If I had been inclined to panic and suspicion I would have thought he was taking me somewhere quiet to kill me. But I wasn't, and he wasn't and eventually we rounded a bend and beheld a cute little restaurant tucked off the road, far from civilization. It was charming though; they grow their own herbs and seasonings off the patio in the back. We saw a fox come out of the forest and sniff something while we were eating. Dinner was marvelous, the setting romantic, the service was great and it was August, so it was warm and sweet outside on the patio. I didn't remember this until later, but at some point Tarzan got up to use the facilities and that was the time he spoke to the waiter. We didn't order dessert, but after our plates were cleared he (the waiter) presented us with a flower petal strewn plate holding a small white box. I was getting suspicious but still I opened it unaware until Tarzan got down on one knee, in the aisle, in front of all the people on the patio to ask me to marry him. It was the ring we had chosen but it looked better than I remembered sparkling in the candlelight. Of course I said yes, no suspense there, we got so many smiles and congratulations from people who saw. Apparently, that restaurant is popular for proposals as I heard many "my husband asked me to marry him heres." When we got back to the car, the roses came out, one dozen, long stemmed beauties. I still have them, dried and hopefully preserved, in the box. He's quite the romantic, Tarzan is.

This is me, remembering the start of something wonderful.