One ring

Mitch: "It's a dangerous business, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to." -J.R.R. Tolkien

Five years. I was going to open with "Five years is a long time", but it isn't, really.  It's just time.  Jenna and I have done a lot in five years, both together and apart. There's the obvious: Jenna lived in Germany, we've both earned Degrees from the University of Alberta, we've bought a house, I won my fantasy football pool, and we've moved to New Zealand.  These achievements are easy to define; They're easy to put on a calendar.  But there are accomplishments that, in my mind, are more significant than these "big" events.  

Jenna has never been an athlete.  That sounds extremely rude to blatantly point out, but she will agree; It's just never been her thing.  Over the last five years Jenna has become an athlete.  Again, she probably won't agree, but I have overwhelming evidence to support my claim:  She hiked up a mountain last weekend for fun.  Athletes do that.  She goes to the gym three, four, five days a week. Athletes do that.  She prides herself on her physical accomplishments.  She tells me she misses yoga when she hasn't gone for a while.  She joined a softball team.  She wore out a sports bra.  Athletes do these things.  Jenna is an athlete.

Jenna is also a very selfless person, sometimes to a fault.  This is similar to my mom (I've heard I'm never suppose to compare my girlfriend to my mother, but they are absolutely the two best people I know in this life, so they will undoubtedly have similar traits).  They both put the wants and desires of others before their own.  Five years ago Jenna would let this degrade her own happiness.  She's very un-confrontational, which is ultimately a good trait to posses, but sometimes people would overstep the line, and Jenna would let it slide.   Several years ago we were at the bar one night with some friends, and, I do admit, I too overstepped that line.   I took advantage of her relaxed attitude, and I had unconsciously assumed I could get away with it.  Then, unexpectedly, Jenna replied with "You're being an asshole."  And she was right- I WAS being an asshole.  I just stared back at her in silence, slightly agitated, but for the most part awestruck.  She wasn't being aggressive, or overly rude.  She was standing up for herself.  I later thanked her for telling me straight, as I'm sure it wasn't easy for her.  There's been several other incidents that have occurred over the last five years involving other people in Jenna's life which have proven that she has become a stronger person -- I will omit mentioning specifics as they are not my stories to tell -- and I am extremely proud of her for that.   It takes courage to stand up to your peers, your friends, or your family, and Jenna is courageous. 

Early into this five-year stint together Jenna brought me up to lake Elinor with her parents.  The Snowdon abode at Elinor is now a beautiful cedar-dressed trailer-turned-cabin with a wide south-facing deck and an average of three motorvehicles per guest. At the time, however, they were staying a bit further down the road on a temporary lot.  We spent the weekend playing washer-toss, quading, and MacGyvering drinks using whatever tools and ingredients were available.  Jenna and I found ourselves inspecting an electric whipper snipper, or, specifically, investigating the design of the wire whipper itself.  It was slightly curved, which, as I theorized, was so that when it spun, the wire would straighten and create the largest "whip radius".  The wire was rather flimsy, so I figured it would have to spin quite quickly to have enough force to snip a weed, but not too fast or the wire would snap. As we were discussing the physics behind it, JoAnne, Jenna's mom, called out "what are you guys doing?".  "Wondering how it works", Jen replied.  "Oh. You just press the button!".   I don't really believe there's a specific moment when I knew I was going to marry Jenna Marie Snowdon, but if there was, it was that moment.  I've always been a curious person- asking "why" and "how", and I had found someone who encourages my curiosity.  Someone I could ask "why do you think the whipper wire is curved?" who will indulge me, rather than point out that the spool that the whipper wire comes on is cylindrical, so the wire is curved not by design, but the result of convenient packaging.  I appreciate that quality in her, probably more than she will ever realize.   Without her support, motivation, and encouragement I would have failed at many of the endeavors I have attempted in the past five years.  She pushes me to be curious -- to take a step into the unknown -- because Jenna is motivational.  

I tell Jenna everything, especially when I'm really excited about it.  She knows more about video games, NFL rosters, rocks, and home brewing than she ever intended to.  When I learn something new I almost always tell her immediately, and more importantly, she listens.  She expresses interest in what I care about.  That's love.  When I bought her a ring I wanted to tell her, but that would ruin the surprise.  It's torture!  That was nearly five months ago now.  I wouldn't be surprised if Jenna suspects I bought her a ring already.  I've made a few comments about how I don't want to support the New Zealand blood diamond trade, so she has to wait until we're home for a ring.  We share a bank account here, which I contribute very little to at the moment, so I joked that it would be nice to buy her a ring while we're here so she would essentially be paying for it.  I'm such a romantic.
   
I decided I should probably get an idea of what Jenna wanted for a ring before buying one, so we went to few jewelry stores in late 2014 to find the type of ring she would like.  As we looked, Jenna made note of the aspects she enjoyed, and those she didn't.  At store 3 or 4 we found a design we both really enjoyed- it didn't look too enormous on her slender fingers, and had all the "features" she liked.  I wrote down the design number and ring size on the back of a business card and stuck it into my pocket.  I now had 3 or 4 cards in my pocket with various design numbers written on them, one from each of the stores we visited.  Rather than go back later with the exact design in hand, I instead lost the cards.  In fact, I only lost ONE card: the card from the last store, with the "perfect" ring design number on it.  I happened to separate it from the other 3 cards so I wouldn't get it confused with the others, and then I somehow misplaced it.  "No big deal", I thought, "I'll just go back to the store and find it again.".  I return the next day to locate the ring once more, and I can't find it.  Either someone purchased it, or I simply couldn't recognize it among the hundreds of other rings in the display case.  Everything had been shuffled around since the day before, as rings were being taken out, tried on, and put back in a seemingly random order.  I left the store, feeling rather disappointed in myself.  Several days later my mom asks me to go Christmas shopping with her in the city.  I didn't need to get much, but I only had a few weeks left to spend time with her before we moved, and I figured it would give me an opportunity to look at more rings.  While she shopped I visited every jewelry store in the area, which was about 7 or 8 stores.  I wasn't determined to buy a ring, but I figured if I saw one that really stood out, I would get it.  

Jewelry stores crack me up; they're worse than used car dealerships.  Everything is always on sale, and there's usually some gimmicky promotion going on.  One store advertised that if it snowed more than 20cm on Christmas day, my purchase was free.  The sales attendant said to me "you might as well buy it, because you'll almost certainly get it for free. I have a good feeling about the weather.".   I left immediately.  It didn't snow on Christmas.

After looking at what felt like 1000 engagement rings, I found one that I really liked, and had all the features that Jenna said she liked.  It happened to be from the same chain of stores that the "perfect" ring design was from.  I put it on hold, thought on it for a while, and eventually purchased it.  As I was packing my things for New Zealand I found the missing card in the pocket of a pair of pants, and it turns out I bought the exact ring design we picked out together.  

Finding the right time to "pop the question" is difficult, as you want everything to be perfect.  You only get to propose to a girl once, I think.   If she has any suspicion I would assume she expects the question to come on our five year anniversary, which is on April 23.  I view our anniversary as a celebration of the last five years, and I'll let it be exclusive to that.  I considered asking her on my birthday, but that would seem rather selfish in my mind.  Then I considered April 1, because her parents wouldn't believe her when she called home with the news.  Brilliant, I know, but I suppose I shouldn't make a joke out of such an important event.  Then I started thinking about location: I was going to surprise her with it on the top of Mt.Taranaki, but we ended up climbing it within our first month, and I didn't have the ring yet (I got my cousin to bring it from Canada in February).  Hobbiton? Nah, that's pretty cheesy.  Perhaps Paritutu, but there's always so many people around.  I want it to be intimate. Just the two of us.  I suppose that's all that matters.