It occurs to me that I haven't posted on here about it, but I'm engaged to marry Dave. He proposed in the Dalby Forest after we'd had a picnic in the woods, I said yes and made involuntary happy noises even though I was pretend-surprised, and then we nearly got run over by a guy on a bike. The next few weeks were spent grinning at each other constantly and calling each other 'my fianceé/e' and 'my future husband/wife/spouse'.
And when we got back to York I got down on one knee with a seven-inch-thick two-hundred-year-old Family Bible (with colour illustrations, explainatory notes and Concordance) that I'd found in a charity shop (and bought saying that it was an engagement-present level object) and proposed back to him. He said yes, as well!
The plan currently is to marry next summer, when we can scrape together most of our families and get them to be in the same place as our friends.