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To love someone is to identify with them. -Aristotle

I realize it’s almost a month since the big “E” day, but I still haven’t told most people how everything transpired. So, in a short recap, at least until you speak to me in person, this will assuage you.

I was thinking of a great place, somewhere we could revisit; a place that was special in some way to both of us. Leslie went to school at the University of Minnesota – Duluth. She has told me many times that she never felt “at home” growing up in the Twin Cities, yet when she returned from a break to campus, she felt inner peace. Lake Superior, aside from being photogenic, has been an anchor in my life as well. For the majority of my childhood, Duluth was as far south as we would travel: back-to-school shopping, class field trips, “road trips” in high school with friends. I knew that the northland (a place which I affectionately refer to as “the 218″) was the best destination.

Outside the Duluth city limits, there were a few places I had considered. The first place that came to my mind, and the place I eventually proposed, was at Split Rock Lighthouse State Park. The drive was beautiful, the leaves were just past peak color. Even Penny was excited about the drive up Scenic Highway 61. When we arrived at Split Rock, there were several groups of sightseers. I knew I wanted to be alone with Leslie, but I didn’t know where I could find enough solitude. We took a few pictures at the lighthouse and the grounds keeper’s quarters, but soon, Leslie was getting anxious to head back to the car. The icy wind from Lake Superior was quickly hindering my chances. I asked Leslie to walk with me to the shore, so we could take a better picture of the lighthouse, and for Penny to jump at the breaking waves. As we meandered down the wooden staircase to the shore, I encouraged Leslie to take off her gloves, and take a few pictures along the way. I pointed out the great “photo op” potential in the large waves crashing against the rocks. Leslie and I were down on the shore, Penny was still tucked away in my fleece jacket (the state park doesn’t permit dogs on the foot paths or the grounds). I let her down on the shoreline, and I asked Leslie to walk with me closer to the lighthouse, yet further from the other sightseers. I sat down next to her on a boulder, and asked her if she would marry me. Not traditional, no kneeling. Just her and I, side by side, Penny as our witness.

Here are a few pictures of our weekend. (MobileMe Gallery)

Finally, for the first time since Easter, I will be heading to the Iron Range and the Northland. Hopefully, we will be able to take Penny to some cool places in Canal Park, up the North Shore, and elsewhere in the area. I know my grandparents are going to love the fact that we have another Boston terrier (well, her dad was a Boston) in the family. I hope to update later this evening with more plans.

Yes, it’s a great deal behind schedule, but Ohmar sent these to me a week or so ago. Leslie was really excited about bringing a puppy to the Renaissance Festival. Personally, I hadn’t considered it, but I was glad we took her. Aside from getting stopped every ten feet by a curious dog-lover to pet her, it was a great chance for her to socialize with lots of new people, new dogs, and new smells. These photos are of Penny trying on hats in the pet clothing shop.

Ever wonder what it’s like to have a newborn baby? Take home a new puppy; it’s cheaper, but you’ll experience the same lack of sleep, bathroom breaks on the hour, and somehow, whenever you want to sleep, she’ll know (and want to play). Penny has been nothing but a great girl, and we can’t wait until this weekend, when we move into our new place over in Saint Paul. We’ll be saying adios to our beloved Little Canada, but more importantly, farewell to the shady operation of our former über-apartment (no names… if you want to know- ask).

I’ll be sure to load videos to Vimeo and pictures to my MobileMe gallery during the move process.

For now, I’m going to head back to KARE 11 to watch some quick news coverage, and more of the XXIX Olympiad. Go USA! Go Michael Phelps!