Ah – the ninth of July.

It was on this day, seven years ago, that I popped the question to the (now) Mrs 6000. We were on a mercy dash to Pick n Pay in Hermanus at the time (although it was actually far more romantic that it actually sounds) (the proposal, not the supermarket).

The upshot of it all was a tearful “yes”, and we still made it in time to get braaivleis and wine (some of which sparkled) for the evening ahead.

Tonight we’re off to the sleepy hollow of Fishhoek to celebrate the 40th birthday of the Fabric Lady. For some reason best known to individuals other than me, it seems that I will be wearing a ridiculously large purple afro wig for the duration of the party.

Happy days.

One thought on “Ninth

  1. I believe that photographic evidence is traditional on occasions such as this – the afro wig that is, not the continued existence of PnP in Hermanus.

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