We waited until we had been together for 10 years to get married – but I think we knew pretty quickly. Two Canadians meet in an Irish pub in Tokyo (Paddy Foley’s in Roppongi, in case you’re wondering) – that’s a ‘meet cute’ if ever there was one. First remembered conversation:
Him: “Will you marry me?”
Me: “What’s your name again?”
Despite plenty of unconventional twists, it’s all worked out remarkably well.
Newfoundland wedding was a week-long party. We still haven’t been back to Tokyo…
Must get that trip in the works.
Readers may find it beggars belief, but these same hands knit both of these mittens. Sadly, the perfect mitten was the first ‘knitten’. It took me all of twenty-four hours under the watchful eye of my expert Nanny S. in Newfoundland. Clearly, I was able to channel the skill of my Newfoundland Foremothers on this one, not to mention ask my grandmother every step of the way what I should do next. No pattern by the way – just frequent trying-ons.
The second mitten, after returning to the Big Smoke, took over a month of dithering and was completed finally on the inaugural Friday Night Knitting Club just held here. It looks like it was made more for an Alien than human hand. What may not be clear are what look like several pairs of tiny vampire teethmarks, scattered around the second, deeply flawed mitt.
Along with living in infamy on the internet, this pair may be headed straight for a glassed-in frame on the wall where they can be preserved for posterity. For now, I am still a Newfie Princess in training.