Geoff and I had been dating for about 8 months. I was working for a podiatrist as his office manager.
One Friday, at work, I was called up to the front desk by some of the other doc's employee's. When I got up to the front, I saw my Mom peeking around the corner. Before I could ask her what the heck she was doing there, Geoff stepped out from behind her. My mind was trying to process everything that was going on when Geoff pulled out a carrot on a string. (Explanation later)
Geoff: "Go get your purse. We are leaving."
Geoff: "Your Mom is going to take over for you here."
Me: "wha? I can't leave! I'm working!"
Dr. Brock steps out of an exam room and tells me that I can go. You see, he was in on it, too. Everyone was in on it.
Geoff and I walk out to his car which is parked next to my Mom's. I see Wilson, our Sheltie, in Mom's Jeep. What the hell?
I look in the back of Geoff's car, and see suitcases.
Geoff tells me not to ask any questions...I have a whole new set of outfits packed by my Mom, and all we needed to do was stop at my apartment and feed the cats and grab my toothbrush.
A little bit later, we were on the highway, and Geoff asks me to close my eyes. I did, and when he told me to open them again, I see that we are at the airport.
Next thing I know, we are on a plane to Williamsburg, Virginia.
Specifically, Colonial Williamsburg. Geoff and I had talked about this place, and I had never been there but said that I wanted to go sometime. And here I was.
Geoff had rented one of the really nice old cottages on the grounds of the Colonial Inn. We ordered room service, which was a first for me...two club sandwiches and two strawberry shakes: $53.00. Oh my God. (We still talk about that room service bill)
The next day, we walked all over Williamsburg, seeing the sights. Now, I knew why we were there...he was going to propose. But I didn't know when it was going to happen. And we weren't talking about it. It was WEIRD.
Near the end of the day, Geoff left me at a street corner as he dashed behind the Bruton Parish church. He came back out and dragged me behind it. Into the 300 year old cemetery.
He sat me down onto a gravestone (of the very late Rev. Scurvent Jones) and then GOT DOWN ON ONE KNEE. I squealed, "You not going to do this here, are you?????"
And he did. And I said yes. It was so absolutely fabulous and strange and exciting and weird.
We asked a passing tourist to take our picture (still on the gravestone, of course).
Geoff told me later that he had researched the town, trying to find the perfect setting to propose. But every place we went (like the Palace) were crowded and he wanted privacy and intimacy. So he had to do it in a graveyard. And that somehow made it perfect.
Explanation of the carrot:
I don't like veggies. Geoff is always trying to get me to eat them. I told him, back when we were dating, the only carrot I would ever like is a big, fat one on my finger.
Is it any wonder that I married him?