Wedding Proposal, sort of . . .

It's good to get a wedding proposal every 20 years or so. It's been nearly that long, I think. Let's see, my last date was in . . . so the last real possibility was . . . yep, about 20 years, give or take a decade.

I've been busy, you see. I reckon that in the midst of me living the life I enjoy, I'll meet the man of my dreams. Remind me to tell you about that dream sometime! Then, if I never marry, I'll still have enjoyed the life I've lived! It's a Win-Win situation.

Seems reasonable to me, so I'm going ahead with that plan until someone convinces me of a more efficacious strategy. Someone has suggested I simplify my vocabulary, but again. If I want a man who can speak in complete sentences, I can't dumb things down and then complain about the results! Really!

Now get this straight. I'm not suggesting that my vocabulary is too extensive for men. I am saying that most of the intelligent men I meet are already married. That is not a mathematical surprise since it is equally true that most of the men I meet at all are married. Much of life is quite logical.

Now, back to the proposal. Well, it wasn't a proposal so much as a proposition. NOT a proposition in the sense you might be thinking. Goodness me! It's just that he didn't ask so much as tell me that he had our wedding all planned and he was anticipating my return.

Well, we had met in person, so that's a different scenerio than the online dating options which are often full of surprises. I think the surprise in his case might be the reality of my age.

Guessing ages of people from differing ethnic backgrounds can be a bit tricky. I've seen some villagers who were so weathered from outdoor life that they look ready for senior citizen discounts in their 40's. I've seen Asian women who so protected their skin that they were pristine, or nearly so, at 65!

I am neither weathered or pristine. My skin tone has coped well with my active lifestyle, but is reasonably seasoned for having clocked up the number of years I have. But how could he have known, poor boy?

Anyway, when I got the text, having ignored his phone calls, that said he was looking forward to our wedding ceremony that was to be held in his village, I had to think of a way to let him down lightly. I had given my contact information to the chief of the village so I could stay in touch and send him teaching resources. It really wasn't a recruitment ploy to win one of his men as my husband!

The letter in the mail this week nailed it! I must get in touch with the man and tell him he needs to look for a woman who is more likely to give him children. As it is, I fear I'm old enough to be his mother!

If it's another 20 years until the next proposal, then so be it. I'll be calling every man Sonny by then, and I'll have well earned every wrinkle, ache and pain.

If we're still writing and reading blogs by then, I'll alert you to developments as they happen. Or possibly after the honeymoon.

Comments

Sonia said…
oooh this was good..! Enjoyed reading over a cuppa. Thanks. And yea I guess in the years to come blogging will still be here, you will still be blogging about your journey and we will still be reading! Awesome.
Woven and Spun said…
Ha ha! My grandmother proved that you're never too old to get married to your sweetheart - she was 84!
If you do ever get married I have to be there! If I ever get married again, shoot me.