Unbeknownst to me, a random Saturday in October would become one of my favorite days of my life. It started out like any other weekend—a few errands, cleaning the apartment—but then John suggested a spontaneous trip to visit his old family farm. Though this land is no longer in the family, it is still John’s favorite place in the world: a reminder of childhood summers with his grandparents, swimming in Apple Lake (pond), and glorious Mother Nature.
It was a perfect fall day and we—including Beryl—savored the crisp air and surrounding beauty. Upon the request of a selfie in front of the water from his sister, John insisted we set up the camera on a timer.
The first one we waived our arms like maniacs.
The second one was blurry.
For the third one, I accidentally set it up as a video and swore as I went to change it back to camera mode.
Then the fourth one was a closeup of grass, as the camera got knocked over by Beryl.
At this point, I was over it—I told John we both hated selfies so let's just use the blurry one—but he asked for just one more so he could send his family the photo they asked for.
I set up the timer. I ran back to stand by John. The timer counted down.
3... 2...
John got down on one knee. I was confused. As it dawned on me what he was doing, I yelled "WHAT."
John was convinced I knew everything that was going on: that the phone call he made that morning was actually to my parents, that his mom's jewelry shopping query was a distraction, that his sister's request was a rouse, that the diamond I fell in love with in February that my diamond dealer told me was sold had actually sold to John. But I knew none of it! So for the first few seconds John was on his knee I just kept saying, "wait, WHAT"
I did say "yes," eventually!
Upon our return home, I had this gorgeous 3.06ct antique European cut diamond, and I could do anything I wanted with it! I was both the client and the maker. I started working on the ring at 6 am Monday morning, called in every favor I could, bombarded my caster with notes, emails, and phone calls begging him to rush it, and was finished a week and a half later—a record!
It was a perfect fall day and we—including Beryl—savored the crisp air and surrounding beauty. Upon the request of a selfie in front of the water from his sister, John insisted we set up the camera on a timer.
The first one we waived our arms like maniacs.
The second one was blurry.
For the third one, I accidentally set it up as a video and swore as I went to change it back to camera mode.
Then the fourth one was a closeup of grass, as the camera got knocked over by Beryl.
At this point, I was over it—I told John we both hated selfies so let's just use the blurry one—but he asked for just one more so he could send his family the photo they asked for.
I set up the timer. I ran back to stand by John. The timer counted down.
3... 2...
John got down on one knee. I was confused. As it dawned on me what he was doing, I yelled "WHAT."
John was convinced I knew everything that was going on: that the phone call he made that morning was actually to my parents, that his mom's jewelry shopping query was a distraction, that his sister's request was a rouse, that the diamond I fell in love with in February that my diamond dealer told me was sold had actually sold to John. But I knew none of it! So for the first few seconds John was on his knee I just kept saying, "wait, WHAT"
I did say "yes," eventually!
Upon our return home, I had this gorgeous 3.06ct antique European cut diamond, and I could do anything I wanted with it! I was both the client and the maker. I started working on the ring at 6 am Monday morning, called in every favor I could, bombarded my caster with notes, emails, and phone calls begging him to rush it, and was finished a week and a half later—a record!
The diamond bounced rainbows and dancing light across my studio while I began to work on its forever home, my engagement ring.
I knew I wanted a hefty gold ring, but the diamond was so glorious I didn't want the setting to take away from the magic and history of the stone. I decided to keep the ring simple and add some tiny, hand-carved silver barnacles to the edges of the setting. As though the ring grew up in the ocean, floating through rough and calm seas, surfacing at just the right moment.
How I made my ring:
We are both so excited for this new chapter of our lives! The outpouring of love and support during this enchanting time has been nothing short of extraordinary—we have both never felt so loved, by each other and our families, friends, and HBJ community.
