The First Day of the Rest of My Life
"That's old news" I hear you uttering to yourselves. "In fact, they are already married!" Yes, you are correct on that point too. But you have to look at the trees in order to see the forest. And as myopia, cataracts and other opthamological ailments afflict me in the future, I will not be able to see the forest, least of all the trees... So I am putting down this wonderful moment of my life on 'paper.' To immortalize it; set it in stone, or should I say e-stone... e-mortalize it perhaps? You've heard it all before....yes, yes. But have you heard it with pictures?! (oh wait, yes, the video, so aptly titled 'Engaging Jillian'... hhhmmm...) Well, let me pick it up from the day I went to a market in Cape Town to buy some trinkets. I came across the wonderful and somewhat ubiquitous Ndebele dolls, and engaged in some back and forth as to which one to buy for Jillian and I. But then I noticed that each doll had a unique tag describing what the doll was traditionally used for. One in particular was used during courtship; a suitor would place a doll outside a young woman's hut, indicating his intention to propose marriage to her. I thought... 'hhmmm, maybe I should keep this under wraps for a while until just the RIGHT moment...'
Fast forward five months: we had bought our tickets to go to England for my good friend Andy Narracott's wedding in Cambridgeshire. And we planned a small tour of england, first starting in London; then shuffling over to Cardiff, Wales to see Ed and Sarah and their new addition to the family, Oscar! And then popping down to Butleigh, Somerset to see my Granny before zooming north to Edinburgh to show Jillian my old stomping grounds. And I thought to myself: 'now wouldn't this be an opportune moment to show Jillian the little red telephone box that I called her from almost 5 years ago now; the phone call that ultimately sealed our fate... And wait a minute... I could truly make that phone box THE epicenter of our fate...' So I hastily ran out and had a ring made for Jillian, days before we were to fly out to London. And so we packed our bags (mine separately, pissing Jillian off, as we really didn't need two bags. But, you see, I needed to stow away a 50cm long [2 foot] ndebele doll in my personal belongings without my potential future wife knowing!) and flew off to my homeland, of sorts. Once in good ole Somerset, home of cider, Glastonbury Music Festival, Cheddar, more cider...oh, Clark's Shoes and my Granny and great uncle Tony, I put my plan into action.
Like George Peppard, better known as Colonel John "Hannibal" Smith, master of disguises and the mastermind of the A-Team, used to say: 'I love it when a plan comes together.' While my plan did finally come together, it was not easy. Oh no siree. I felt more like MacGyver, having to improvise at every turn... and no, I did not use a chewing gum wrapper and piece of string to propose to Jillian. Well, actually, that's not exactly true: I did use a piece of string to tie the ring to the neck of the ndebele doll. I had it stowed away in the back of my Granny’s Nissan Micra. I was to give it to Jillian the first day we arrived. But that day she decided to not come with me to drop Tony off, and so Opportunity No. 1 came and went. Day 2, and we had a lovely lunch, after which Granny and Jillian both fell asleep. A small nap one would think, considering it was only 2pm. Well, Jillian finally wakes up FOUR hours later, night having fallen all around The Laurels. And so Opportunity No. 2 also came to pass, leaving me with Day 3, our final day in Butleigh. Some might say, the Day of Reckoning, the Judgement Day… not as in Doomsday, End of the World… au contraire mes amis; I was going to follow through! But first we had to take Granny to the doctor, and then we had to have a sit down lunch, stick anti-slip pads in the bath tub so Granny could actually get out of the tub the next time she bathed, put together a wine rack out of more pieces than it takes to keep a 747 jet flying… giving me about 25 minutes to play out my well-concocted plan, before heading out to the airport for the chillier climes of Edinburgh. That Micra really flew on the small country lanes, and once at the crossroads Jillian finally was able to see the little red telephone box, in all its cob-webbed, nettled glory, vaguely listing towards the hedge. At that point I asked Jillian to marry me, and as I broke the string on the doll’s neck, the ring started doing quick successive somersaults and pirouettes towards the chasm that was the overgrown hedge and nettles. Some stellar eye-hand coordination averted disaster. What a way that would have been to start ‘The First Day of the Rest of My Life!’
And here it all is on the 'big screen'....
Fast forward five months: we had bought our tickets to go to England for my good friend Andy Narracott's wedding in Cambridgeshire. And we planned a small tour of england, first starting in London; then shuffling over to Cardiff, Wales to see Ed and Sarah and their new addition to the family, Oscar! And then popping down to Butleigh, Somerset to see my Granny before zooming north to Edinburgh to show Jillian my old stomping grounds. And I thought to myself: 'now wouldn't this be an opportune moment to show Jillian the little red telephone box that I called her from almost 5 years ago now; the phone call that ultimately sealed our fate... And wait a minute... I could truly make that phone box THE epicenter of our fate...' So I hastily ran out and had a ring made for Jillian, days before we were to fly out to London. And so we packed our bags (mine separately, pissing Jillian off, as we really didn't need two bags. But, you see, I needed to stow away a 50cm long [2 foot] ndebele doll in my personal belongings without my potential future wife knowing!) and flew off to my homeland, of sorts. Once in good ole Somerset, home of cider, Glastonbury Music Festival, Cheddar, more cider...oh, Clark's Shoes and my Granny and great uncle Tony, I put my plan into action.
Like George Peppard, better known as Colonel John "Hannibal" Smith, master of disguises and the mastermind of the A-Team, used to say: 'I love it when a plan comes together.' While my plan did finally come together, it was not easy. Oh no siree. I felt more like MacGyver, having to improvise at every turn... and no, I did not use a chewing gum wrapper and piece of string to propose to Jillian. Well, actually, that's not exactly true: I did use a piece of string to tie the ring to the neck of the ndebele doll. I had it stowed away in the back of my Granny’s Nissan Micra. I was to give it to Jillian the first day we arrived. But that day she decided to not come with me to drop Tony off, and so Opportunity No. 1 came and went. Day 2, and we had a lovely lunch, after which Granny and Jillian both fell asleep. A small nap one would think, considering it was only 2pm. Well, Jillian finally wakes up FOUR hours later, night having fallen all around The Laurels. And so Opportunity No. 2 also came to pass, leaving me with Day 3, our final day in Butleigh. Some might say, the Day of Reckoning, the Judgement Day… not as in Doomsday, End of the World… au contraire mes amis; I was going to follow through! But first we had to take Granny to the doctor, and then we had to have a sit down lunch, stick anti-slip pads in the bath tub so Granny could actually get out of the tub the next time she bathed, put together a wine rack out of more pieces than it takes to keep a 747 jet flying… giving me about 25 minutes to play out my well-concocted plan, before heading out to the airport for the chillier climes of Edinburgh. That Micra really flew on the small country lanes, and once at the crossroads Jillian finally was able to see the little red telephone box, in all its cob-webbed, nettled glory, vaguely listing towards the hedge. At that point I asked Jillian to marry me, and as I broke the string on the doll’s neck, the ring started doing quick successive somersaults and pirouettes towards the chasm that was the overgrown hedge and nettles. Some stellar eye-hand coordination averted disaster. What a way that would have been to start ‘The First Day of the Rest of My Life!’
And here it all is on the 'big screen'....
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-della (and the boys)