Yeah, I know. My hands aren’t stupid. But they are, in relation to the rest of my adult-size body, tiny. Which really shouldn’t play into this discussion at all, because tiny or no, my rings fit MY hands.
I wear two rings every day, both on the ring finger (logical, eh?) of my right hand. One is a garnet cabochon set in sterling silver, and was a gift from my aunt when I was 9. Yes, it still fits. Tiny hands, remember? The other is a plain, silver band that found its way to me by chance and fate. That is to say, I found it in the laundry room of the condo complex where I lived many years ago, and it (rather surprisingly) fit. I posted a flier for a couple of weeks, hoping to find the proper owner, but nobody came forward. And so, it was mine. It disappeared once before, when a then-boyfriend had taken it in order to have a new ring made for me to the proper size. I knew he had it, I had lent it to him in the first place (I didn’t know what his plan was, he’d made up a plausible story for wanting it) and so there was no concern.
This morning, though. This morning I was taking a photo of my new, reverse-carved Lucite bangle bracelet (which is technically a watch although the battery is dead and I haven’t worn a watch in years anyway) and I looked at my hand in the photo and it looked funny. Peculiar. Why does it WHERE IS MY SILVER RING? I unmade the bed, hoping it had slipped off under a pillow during the night.* No such luck. I checked the bathroom counter, my purse, my jacket pockets. After doing chores like laundry and reorganizing my pantry (read: throwing away heinously outdated stuff), I was out and about “on the town” yesterday (ModMood, ARC, The Wrecking Ball), so it could have fallen off at any number of places.
Did the ring cost me any money? No. Was it sentimental? Other than I’ve had it for a long time, no. Is it irreplaceable? No, a quick search shows that I can find a new one online although for some inexplicable reason they’re less expensive in the (more common) larger sizes.
But this one was mine. And I lost it. And, if you read this blog with any regularity, you know that I hate losing things.
*I sleep in my rings, I shower in my rings, I wash dishes in my rings… I don’t take them off, except when I’m applying pomade or moisturizer and I don’t want them getting gunky.
UPDATE: It’s now however many hours (8ishy) after I originally wrote this post, and HOLY CRAP I JUST FOUND MY RING!!! Right smack dab in the middle of my “office” floor. As in, about 4 feet DIRECTLY BEHIND THE VERY CHAIR I’M SITTING IN. And which I’ve had to walk OVER about 8 times today. Wotthehell? Best guess is that it WAS elsewhere, and one of the kittehs was playing with it until it landed here. Whatever. MY RING! Glee!
4 responses to “Stupid, tiny hands.”
Do you know for certain that you had it when you came back from Viva? I am notorious for stashing my jewelry at the end of a night of being out on the town (read: drinking) in a ‘safe’ place, which always happens to be too safe for me to remember.
I bet you’ll happen upon it in some nook or cranny of your suitcase, or bag, or in a pocket somewhere ;)
Yep, I definitely had it after returning home. It’s only been missing for a day, or two at the most. Who knows, it may show up in my car… or my laundry… or on the back of a shelf in my pantry! There’s still hope. :)
Hey…maybe you can find my scooter keys for me! We already know they’re not with your headphones!