Six years ago this weekend Marty were engaged.  I'm not sure how long he'd been thinking about it, but when we planned a trip to Texas with my family for Memorial Day weekend, Marty decided that he would take the opportunity to ask my dad for his permission to marry me.

On Saturday morning, Marty and my dad went out on the ranch to go hunting.  In a jeep loaded with guns, Marty decided that would be the best time to discuss our future.  I kind of had the feeling that he might use that time to talk to my dad about it, so I was a little surprised when they were gone for so long.  I wasn't sure if that meant they were having a particularly fruitful hunt, or if the discussion was just taking a long, long time.

When they came back, Marty asked me to come into another room for a minute.  Here's a replay of the big moment:

Marty: Well, your dad said it was OK.  So, do you want to get married?
Me: Sure.

Later that weekend, we broke the big news to my mom and dad.  My dad said, "When you didn't say anything right away, I thought maybe you said no."  My mom was mostly surprised and I think a little bummed that we didn't share the news sooner.  Looking back, I'm not sure why we didn't.  I think part of me wanted to come up with some exciting way to make our announcement, and another part of me wasn't totally sure how "official" it was since the asking was a little casual and my finger was without a ring.

I never did get the full report on the discussion out on the ranch.  Marty's recollection of the discussion is pretty slim, probably because he was so nervous to have "the talk" that the relief of getting the words out of his mouth was so great that he gave himself anxiety-induced amnesia.  So, after ten months of dating (good lord that seems short) we were officially engaged.  Followed by a long two-year engagement and four fast years of marriage.  So on this day - here's to us.  I'm glad you and my dad came back in the jeep without incident.  I watch a lot of crime TV, and there's a lot of open land in Texas.