One Ring

 

I am a lot like Gollum with rings. They fall off my fingers and such. I lost my wedding ring in a McDonald's latrine, one of my much loved Irish rings in the parking lot at the boat launch, and the other while throwing hay to the sheep a couple of years ago.

My dear brother stopped at the Irish shop in Durham and picked up a replacement Irish ring for me and I struggle to keep that puppy on my finger too.

A couple of years ago Becky got some trinket or object of interest delivered to the house from someplace like Temu, and as a bonus a little ring of fish line and tiny blue beads was also in the package. She gave it to me as a joke. I put it on below my Irish ring, as a sort of a keeper, or warning that I was about to lose them.

And it worked.

Until yesterday.

I was letting the water out of a sink full of soaking dishes so I could wash them.

Swoosh. The little bead ring vanished from my finger. I was heartbroken all out of proportion to its value...maybe five cents on the current market...and hunted through the sink for it.

Nope. Gone. Down the drain.

And sadly my Irish ring is really loose right now too.

Dagnabbit.

I proceeded to do the chore I had lined up for. Coffee cups and frying pans, bowls and milk glasses, down to the silverware in the bottom of the sink. I picked up a fork to give it a scrub and there, caught in the tines, was my tiny dark blue bead ring.

Ralph thought something was wrong with me as I cried out for joy. (Actually, something probably IS wrong with me but we won't talk about that.)

Anyhow, I guess I am a pretty cheap date. It doesn't take a whole lot to make me happy.