The story was broken yesterday at Manolo for the Big Girl, but a regular Manolosphere commenter, Andrea S, had a Very Special Experience at the Renaissance Faire. Follow the link, and wish her joy!
Interestingly enough, the Renaissance Faire was where Mr. Twistie and I met. I didn’t pay too much attention that first day to the somewhat less than sober guy holding up a pole at the Pistolbows (hand-held crossbows for the kiddies to shoot) booth, so I had no idea what a momentous occasion it was. Just shy of thirteen years later, we pledged ourselves to one another before a crowd of friends and family.
Yeah, sometimes we’re slow. Still, we get there eventually.
Oddly enough, my brother the alpaca rancher also met his love at the Faire. In fact, they met when she (a member of the Irish camp) proposed to him, because he looked a prosperous English fellow. It took them something in the range of about two years to tie the knot, but they fell hard pretty much immediately, and are still besotted with one another more than twenty years later.
Now I’m curious. When and where did you meet your intended/spouse? Did you know right away, or did it take a while? What’s your love story?