I should warn you in advance that I've been trying to find a nice block of time when I could do my report, but failed to do so. I figure I had better just start and hope for the best, but I may not manage it all in one go.
Where to begin?
How we met
About nine years ago, I used to act as a tester for my cousin who created online computer games. He had a particularly good one, which I tested for him and before long it went public. Simon was one of its first paying customers. Part of the game was forming alliances with other empires and staging large invasions. OK OK, very geeky and sad I know, but fun nonetheless. A few months in, I was going to Yorkshire on business and I suggested that I meet up with one of the players, Simon, who lived that-a-way. Imagine my surprise when the chap in question was decidedly tasty, rather than pasty! I left after the coffee determined to come back.
A few weeks later I was back on business, but this time we arranged to meet in York for drinks and dinner. Much fun was had (in every sense of the word) and I was on cloud nine. When I awoke the next morning in the Holiday Inn with Simon (Claire blushes) all was well, but over breakfast it became apparent that all was not well in my stomach department. We will fast forward through the next couple of hours which involved many loo trips and borrowing money for Immodium (oh the shame) to the point where I was doubled in pain while trying to keep a brave face on it.
Simon offered to drive me to the station but had to go and get petrol first. I threw up at the petrol station. That was when Simon did the single most heroic thing i have ever witnessed. He said "right that's it, I'm driving you home". He drove me 350 miles home with frequent stops on the M1 hard shoulder to throw up. I vowed that if I ever survived the trip and he stuck around, that I was keeping him. He stayed for five days to look after me while i recovered from what I later learnt to be food poisoning. After that he went home. He lasted 24 hours before coming back down South and has stayed ever since.
The proposal
A year after we met, we started our family. First was our daughter Nell and two years later followed her sister Imogen. They both took their Dad's name because he said "well we'll get married one day won't we?". Time passed, the girls got older and so did I. This may sound a bit rubbish, but I wanted to get married before I was 40. I didn't want to be one of those women you see in a smart suit and a hat at a register office. I wanted the dress, the occasion and most of all I wanted my dad to be there and he wasn't getting any younger.
It was our anniversary (of the infamous York date) last September and we went out for a lovely meal. As we were eating our starter, Simon said "When's half term?". "End of October" says I "Why do you ask?". "Well if we're going to get you married before you're forty, we'd better get cracking. That might be a good time to talk about it". Romantic? No, not in the traditional sense of the word, but Simon is a man of few words and I am very good at reading between the lines after all these years. I giggled like an idiot for the rest of the night.
