A tale for ❤️Valentine’s Day❤️
Came back from the organic open-air market this week, parked the yogurt, the whole rye loaves, the bouquet of Swiss chard and made up the fire. Lit it, and headed to the sideboard for my pistachio treat–a custom now of the late afternoon.
As I scooped the nuts into the little Florentine bowl, I realized something was missing: My wedding ring!
My finger was missing its ring!
There’s a particularly unpleasant punch-in-the-stomach feeling–WHOOSH–when something hugely-valued is not where it’s supposed to be.
And this is not the first time it has happened.
“Grace under pressure, Robin, grace under pressure….”
I retraced my steps.
Scanned the sideboard where the jars of dried fruits and nuts are stored–but no ring.
Tipped out the pistachio jar, nuts all over the countertop–but no ring.
I turned to the fire, which was picking up nicely.
Moments’ pause, then PANIC as I remembered….
Maybe it slipped off my finger when I tossed in a handful of dry kindling, before deciding I deserved a few pistachios.
“How resistant is gold to melting when subjected to intense heat?”
No time to GOOGLE–get dismantling the blaze, without burning my ringless fingers!
The ring is in fact THREE rings in yellow, white and rose gold–a Russian wedding ring. It will have been my close companion for 31 years this August.
I recently “changed hands” from left to right (the traditional hand for Russian rings) because my left had become too thin.
I carefully shovel hot embers aside into a pile, hoping I catch a glinting glimpse of gold.
No ring.
Meredith arrived back from the shops and calmed me down.
Grace under pressure, grace under pressure—yawowwww!
Together we finished the fire “dismantlement”, without finding the ring.
We searched the car, the courtyard, the front hall, the bathroom.
Perhaps the pile of warm ash would yield treasure tomorrow.
Next morning, I still felt a glimmer of hope.
It WILL turn up. Something in my water told me so.
I lost the ring once before but remember never losing hope–somewhere, patiently waiting for me to get my act together, would be my ring.
In my head, the image of a gold prospector.
THERE IT WAS!!—looking up at me innocently, as if to say: “WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG?”
YIPPEE!
Happy Valentine’s Day!