Long, long ago when I was on a ski holiday in Switzerland, I met a handsome Englishman on top of a mountain. Turned out he was a Foreign Office chap on leave from a posting in Thailand - I was with a group of friends. He took me out to dinner in a gentlemanly sort of way and skied about with me next day, patient with my lack of skill on the slopes. Then, to my utter amazement, four days after I'd met him, he proposed on February 14th. I later discovered he'd intended to ask me to marry him overlooking the Rhone valley only I fell off the draglift on the way up, so he'd had to wait, nerves jangling, until we were just above the village. I was so astonished I nearly fell off my skis again. What happened next? It's a long story.
Typically, my husband of 34 years didn't actually know it was Valentine's Day.
Love, art and intrigue in the Far Easthttp://susievereker.blogspot.com/
4 comments:
Oh, Susie, that's a fabulous story!
Susie, that's lovely! (And great pic of you, too.)
Now, that's romantic!
What a beautiful story. I love it.
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