At approximately, well, sunset Maui time on November 27, I asked Amy to be my wife. And she, always the adventurer, agreed with surprisingly little cajoling (OK, none, to be precise). After the rainiest day I’ve seen in many trips to Hawaii over the years, the skies cleared enough for us to climb into a damp hammock for a little time together before heading off to dinner with my parents. It was there I sprang my trap. My plea went something like this: “I know you like jewelry, so I got you something. But before I give it to you, you need to agree to something. Amy J, will you marry me?” The answer was yes (which was perfect because, apparently, stores don’t like to take back rings once you’ve had them custom made for a person). I then found my sleuthing skills had not been quite as sharp as I’d hoped, because the ring was a bit too big…but better that than too small, since it fit on her finger without the need for industrial-strength lubricant. (We’ll get it resized when we get home.) My parents were in happy shock when they met us in the hotel lobby and Amy thrust her diamond-encrusted digit in their direction. And our impromptu celebratory dinner was rather busy with many simultaneous cell phone calls to the mainland to inform friends and family of our news. The restaurant was even nice enough to give us a free dessert and a (obviously pre-signed) congratulatory card from the staff. Now on to the hard part…planning a wedding. [For an updated photo gallery, click here.]