Taking the Plunge, Part Dos

So I had the proposal all planned out for quite some time. I had told my girlfriend that we would be making our way to the Cranbrook Gardens for a Garden Tour. It was the first time that some of these private gardens were ever to be opened to the public. I'd told her weeks ago. I'd gotten the ring. I'd ask her parents. (If you don't already know this it's as if you're not even reading my blogs, shame on you!) I prepped my clothes for the next day, placing the ring box in the pocket of my shorts. I had a caramel apple sucker in my trunk, which I had bought in Traverse City during a canoe trip during or vacation over 4th of July week... this is called foreshadowing, stick with me. Everything was ready.

We left for the Cranbrook Gardens, Sharon's fancy film camera in tow. More foreshadowing. She was also wearing pants. Even more foreshadowing. But I guess it's not really foreshadowing if I have to point it out; more like fore-shining-a-bright-light-ening. During the drive to the gardens, I had that freak out moment that everybody probably has had before with their key. You think you forgot them, you check your pocket, and for one millisecond you don't find them. That freak out moment. So I did that very same thing with the ringbox, even though I had set everything up beforehand. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Sharon looking at me while I have my hand in an awkward position checking my shorts pocket. So I just keep it there. Yep, that's exactly where I wanted my hand. Me? Noooo... I'm completely comfortable, why do you ask?

We arrive at the meeting location for the garden tour. I have Kienböck's Disease, but get over it quickly. I check us in for the tour, and find out that we will actually be touring personal, private gardens around people's homes. OK, a little weird, but no problem.

It is at this time that it starts to rain. Of course! We're outdoors! Just my luck! I jokingly foreshadow things for Sharon telling her to get ready for my family luck with things like this in the future. It stops raining and she states her luck will always counteract mine. Kinda like roshambo. But, now that it has rained, it goes from being hot to being very hot and humid. Time to start hiking to houses and trudging through backyards.

We come to the first house, and Sharon is happily taking pictures, when someone says that photos are not allowed. Apparently, the home owners are concerned that we might be "casing the joint" and compiling schematics in order to break-in at a later date. Just what I'm going to... steal some peonies. Anyway, this annoys Sharon. I mention for her to just take pictures when nobody is paying attention. However, she is afraid to, in case someone then takes her camera and pulls out her film; like she's the papparazzi, and the garden owner is Sean Penn. She thinks it's stupid. Why would she even want to come if she couldn't take pictures. Grump 1.

We continue on through lovely backyards, taking pictues on the fly when noone is around. Like I said, it is hot and humid. Like I said, Sharon is wearing pants. Jeans to be exact. I told her to wear shorts, but she stated she would be fine. Now she's unbearably hot and sweaty. Grump 2.

The backyards were very big, very hilly, very irregular; basically rich person acreage and expanse. Sharon has a bad knee. It was getting sore, and she was getting tired. Grump 3.

I suggest resting. We sit down on a marble bench near some beautiful flowers... and 18,000 ninja bees begin to swarm and attack us. Off we go. Now we had planned on eating after the tour, but I suggested eating something small before we left. Sharon said she really didn't need it, but now she was hungry. Grump 4.

Throughout the entire day, I had been telling her to calm down, have fun, just enjoy things. At the height of her uncomfortable grumpiness, she wished she hadn't come. I was beginning to wonder if this whole proposal thing was a good idea? I tried and tried to find a nice quiet, private, perfect place to ask her. Hey, come and look at these flowers. "I saw them!" What a cool overhang made of a tree, c'mere! "Yeah, cool." Let's go back to the koi pond? "We were just there!" All attempts were foiled.

We were on our way back to the parking lot. I still wanted to ask her at Cranbrook gardens... but not in the parking lot. So I asked her if she needed to use the bathroom. I was not planning on asking there, but the toilets were near a flower field. She said no. Well, I need to use them. You want to come with me? No. Well, just stay in the car. I'm really hungry, can you go at the restaurant? Sure. Foiled!. We leave.

I am searching for other good locations. Academy of Art? Cool, but inaccessible. Another field of flowers? No parking. I give up and we go to the restaurant. The Red Coat Tavern to be exact; for expensive, yet delicious hamburgers. Try them sometime if you're on Woodward. Especially if you like eating your food in the redlight district basement.

While waiting for our food, I drop another bit of foreshadowing telling Sharon that one day I'm going to want to take her somewhere and she'll be grumpy and I'll change my mind about taking her that somewhere to ask her something. Very vague, huh? She apologizes for her grumpiness, and gets in one final jab about how it was stupid you can't take pictures.

Settling into her calm and comfortable position, she thoroughly enjoys her hamburger. "It's the best hamburger I've ever had!" "So today is turning out to be a pretty good day then?" I say with added foreshadowy seasoning. All the while I am thinking how to ask her now. My mind concocts a spill in the parking lot, acting injured and pulling out the ring when she comes to help. Problem? We have leftovers. She doesn't want to carry them out to the car, and I am not one to just waste food for any reason. I mean, have you seen me? Come on now! So (X+3)(X-2), foiled again!

On the way home, she wants to stop at Pier One for some god awful reason. "Fine, but we're not buying anything." "Then what's even the point in going." Sharon states with impetuous female shopping logic. Too true, I guess? So, there is no way I would ever propose at Pier One. Maybe Bed, Bath, and Beyond, but I am NOT responsible for things I do after sitting in the massage chair for more than two minutes. Ahhhhhhh....

Skip ahead until finally we're on the way back to my house. How about the nature walk? She'll wonder why we didn't just go home. Take my dog for a walk? Might be too difficult to manage. Go to the playground at the city park? Either too many kids or too many pot-smokers playing horseshoes. Then what!

I park in the driveway, determined to not go in the house so that when I finally ask, Sharon knows that I had this ring on me all.... day.... long!!! I announce I'm taking the garbage cans in the backyard. Dammit! With all my foresahdowing I forgot this important part. Before we left, I saw my dog getting divebombed by a robin in the backyard. Turned out he was walking after a little baby robin that couldn't fly. I got so close to this baby bird, that I almost touched it before it skittered through the fence, in the back of my yard, near my lilac tree (Li-lac!) My dog saw it. I saw it. Sharon did not. She searched and searched, but it wasn't coming back. Back to your regularly scheduled, long-ass story... I brought back the garbage cans and went straight to the lilac tree and squatted underneath. (I did not take a shit... let's get serious now shall we?) I waited. Sharon eventually came searching for me. I waved for her to be quiet and come and see. I was looking, the mother robin was on the fence, and even my dog came over to look, even though he was extremely confused at me looking at nothing. Sharon was eager to see the baby robin. "Look, right over here. Shhh." "What? Where is it? What do you see?" And no more perfect set-up words were ever spoken... "This..." And with that I opened the ring box and popped the question.

Now I had this grand old speech that I had written and practiced. It had sentiment, love, thrills, chills, and spills. Which I never really understood that compilation of rhyming words to explain 50's movies. Sure thrills and chills, but spills? Why would you want that? Anyway, I delivered the speech perfectly. "...will you marry me?" My response? "I didn't really hear anything you just said." And then a soggy shoulder. So I repeated my spiel, and gave her the written copy. She was ecstatic and obviously said yes. Then she wanted to go and tell her parents. I told her they already knew because I had asked their permission. My other shoulder then became soggy. Filled with new excitment and exhilaration, Sharon vowed to never be grumpy again. Which for a woman, is like anyone vowing to never touch alcohol again after a night of heavy drinking. But I love her (or else this blog wouldn't really make any sense... I mean become engaged to someone you didn't love, who does that?) and figure she is the least crazy woman out there... so why not?