A little story to 'ring' in the New Year. Har har har.
I loved this BBC news story about the woman who found her lost wedding ring round a carrot she dug up from her garden.
Things you don't expect to find when digging up your dinner
I have my own ring story. Our family was at a big Christian festival once, the kind where thousands of people bring tents and camp together and then have to spend the week trying not to argue with their spouses because everyone can hear you being not-very-Christian.
My husband was working as a milkman at the time. Why is this relevant? You'll see.
Towards the end of the week-long festival, my husband lost his wedding ring, having left it in the gents' facilities when he went to have a wash. He came back to the tent and I asked him where his ring was, which was when he realised what he'd done. I considered having a tantrum about it and calling him a few names, but I couldn't risk everyone hearing. Instead, I said, very loudly, 'DON'T WORRY, DARLING HONEYBUN SUGARPIE, I'M SURE IT WILL BE FINE - I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, WHAT'S A LITTLE LOST GOLD BETWEEN US, MY SWEET, MY LOVE, MY ANGEL?'
We went along to Lost Property and were sure there'd be a person at the desk who would say, 'Hey, Sharon, where's that wedding ring that was handed in this morning?' and there would be his ring and it would all be sorted.
In fact, the person at the desk picked up a plastic box in which there had to be at least 30 men's wedding rings, shook it about a bit and said, 'Good luck!' Apparently men's wedding rings were one of the most common things to be given in. All I could think about were all those poor Christian wives who were having to call their husbands 'Honeybun' for the first time ever.
We didn't need luck to find his ring, though, and this is where the milkman thing comes in. He'd been working as one for 5 years. Why would this make a difference? It's because years of carrying 4 or 5 full bottles of milk between his fingers had built up the muscles so much that his fingers had actually changed shape. The ring, accordingly, had done the same and was now more oval than circular. So we knew instantly which was his ring. It was the only one which looked like it belonged to an alien. All the others were perfectly round.
Round ... and still lost. I wonder how long those other wives kept up the Honeybun thing.
Things you don't expect to find when digging up your dinner
I have my own ring story. Our family was at a big Christian festival once, the kind where thousands of people bring tents and camp together and then have to spend the week trying not to argue with their spouses because everyone can hear you being not-very-Christian.
My husband was working as a milkman at the time. Why is this relevant? You'll see.
Towards the end of the week-long festival, my husband lost his wedding ring, having left it in the gents' facilities when he went to have a wash. He came back to the tent and I asked him where his ring was, which was when he realised what he'd done. I considered having a tantrum about it and calling him a few names, but I couldn't risk everyone hearing. Instead, I said, very loudly, 'DON'T WORRY, DARLING HONEYBUN SUGARPIE, I'M SURE IT WILL BE FINE - I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, WHAT'S A LITTLE LOST GOLD BETWEEN US, MY SWEET, MY LOVE, MY ANGEL?'
We went along to Lost Property and were sure there'd be a person at the desk who would say, 'Hey, Sharon, where's that wedding ring that was handed in this morning?' and there would be his ring and it would all be sorted.
In fact, the person at the desk picked up a plastic box in which there had to be at least 30 men's wedding rings, shook it about a bit and said, 'Good luck!' Apparently men's wedding rings were one of the most common things to be given in. All I could think about were all those poor Christian wives who were having to call their husbands 'Honeybun' for the first time ever.
We didn't need luck to find his ring, though, and this is where the milkman thing comes in. He'd been working as one for 5 years. Why would this make a difference? It's because years of carrying 4 or 5 full bottles of milk between his fingers had built up the muscles so much that his fingers had actually changed shape. The ring, accordingly, had done the same and was now more oval than circular. So we knew instantly which was his ring. It was the only one which looked like it belonged to an alien. All the others were perfectly round.
Round ... and still lost. I wonder how long those other wives kept up the Honeybun thing.
 |
| He thought she was getting up close and personal, but she just wanted to hiss 'Pick up your socks, you DORK' without anyone hearing |
This never has been, nor could it be, a problem in our marriage. (My husband has never worn a wedding ring.) To my knowledge, he has never strayed. He will be 80 in April. I doubt I need to worry now.
ReplyDeleteI refused to wear my wedding band for thirty-six years because it interfered with the type of wok I was doing. It always upset Mrs. Chatterbox that I never wore it, but six months ago I found it in my drawer and slipped it on my finger, with quite a bit of pushing. Mrs. Chatterbox is happy and the ring doesn't interfere with my blogging at all.
ReplyDeleteGreat story - and so true - we went on a fossil hunt once and my husband insisted on us being the only family who didn't camp and booked into a motel. Our friends who camped complained about the snoring from the next tent so perhaps it wasn't such a bad choice.
ReplyDeleteGood story, although the idea of camping "en masse" is not appealing. My ring went oval a couple of years ago as I tried and tried to uproot a sapling in my garden. The young tree was sturdier than my ring.
ReplyDeleteI've only ever been able to hold two (or three at the most), bottles between my fingers. I have big hands, but short chubby fingers. I blame my mother....
ReplyDeleteI gave up wearing a wedding ring, as I got fed up with catching it on gates. I don't wear my watch to work for the same reason.
Happy New Year!
I remember carrying two or three at a time, and still have the bent fingers to prove it. Like Martin, I don't do watches or rings...or a St Christopher, or piercings, or tattoos, or earrings, tiaras, high heels, etc, etc...
ReplyDeleteI haven't lost my wedding ring as after years of marital eating, my fingers have got that little chubbier! We've done Eurocamp a couple of times which is always entertaining for the hissed rows that you can hear on your own and neighbouring plots.
ReplyDeleteI must be the only person whose wedding ring actually broke in half?
ReplyDeleteThe shop were quite callous and simply offered to refund the money if I returned the ring and couldn't/wouldn't understand that I wanted to keep the ring I was married with.
Luckily a local jeweller came to the rescue and had a new gold band built-up inside with the original ring stretched around the outer.
Ironically, the ring was one of the very few items we've ever bought new!
On similar lines to the ring story......we have lived in this house for 33 years, and about 4 years ago I found a small metal disc on top of the soil, in a well used area of the garden. It was engraved..." Joe Buck, Station Rd, Harpenden" Our house was built on the site of a very small general store, (more like a wooden shack,) and it was run by the Buck family. The disc is now in the care of the local history society
ReplyDeleteThe only excuse for me to lose my wedding ring is to have my finger caught in an unfortunate buzz saw accident. According to my wife.
ReplyDeleteYou are so right, Fran. I think it's because most men's figures (like men themselves) are pretty shapeless (sorry, guys), with none of the ins and outs of a woman's body (that sounds all wrong, but never mind).
ReplyDeleteMy first (late) husband lost his weedding ring when he'd put it in his pocket to mow the lawn, and pulled out a hanky, letting the ring spin into the grass, never to be seen again. My son-in-law's was washed awayby and Antiguan wave on his honeymoon while he was in the sea. But my dear old mum, given to tantrums, threw hers out of the window in the course of a row (it was never seen again, and she wore a curtain ring instead in the interests or respectability. Those were the days when that kind of thing mattered).
Sadly, no-one was into growing carrots.
Wow! What a great selection of fascinating ring stories in response! It's almost worth a little compilation in a book, methinks. I wonder if it's been done...
ReplyDeleteHusband doesn't sport a wedding ring and , since I got scraggy in my old age , mine tends to fly off and across the room with any extravagant gesture .
ReplyDeleteSo what with that and one or two other slight mismatches , I fear we'd find a Christian festival a minefield ...
but we have pitched a tent in a rhubarb patch near Ypres .
He wears a wedding ring which reminds me of pictures of trees grown around a gate post. Ring and finger, together forever.
ReplyDeleteWhat happened to the ring and the finger it graced when your husband stopped being a milkman? Did they shape-shift again?
ReplyDeleteOh, sorry Fran, I clicked send before wishing you a happy New Year.
ReplyDeleteHAPPY NEW YEAR! Did you hear that?
I have never got my wedding ring caught in a gate. Just thought I'd say. I didn't realise that this was an achievement.
ReplyDeleteHappy New Year.
Friko - no, his fingers have stayed the same. Mind you, when he takes the wine and beer bottles out to the recycling, he still uses the old method .. Happy New Year to you, too!
ReplyDeleteAs one of that vast multitude of men who forgot and left a ring in a shower(on a military base)
ReplyDeleteI know the helpless feeling and panic that it generates. However, after 56 years of marriage, I
had forgotten about until I read your blog. I'm sure she hasn't. Have a Happy, Happy New Year. My best.
I had a wedding ring once. I tried to dispose of it (and him) several times but it always just missed the grid. It easily warped, being made of low-grade stuff and I only got a fiver for it when I sold it (and nothing for him). I spent the fiver on loo roll.
ReplyDeleteSorry - were these supposed to be heart-warming stories of enduring love? *gets coat*
P.S. I forgot to say Happy New Year too! Happy New Year!
ReplyDeleteGold, pure gold Fran. A Happy New Year to you - hopefully there will be lots of "Being Me" posts during 2012 - I do so look forward to them.
ReplyDeleteCount Sneaky - Happy New Year to you too. I'm sure you're right - female memories tend to store this kind of thing away ....!
ReplyDeleteBB - heart warming stories of enduring love? On THIS blog?
Alan - a very kind comment. I will do my best!
Mind you, at least Being Him's ring hadn't been through a sheep like the Swedish lady's.
ReplyDeleteIsabella - 'Being Him' made me laugh. I shall adopt this.
ReplyDeleteIsabelle - I called you Isabella, sorry.
ReplyDeleteI rather like Isabella. Makes me sound like a Jane Austen heroine or at least also-ran. Not that my name's really Isabelle either (or at least, it's my middle name).
ReplyDeleteSo there are still honest people left in the world
ReplyDeleteMissing your blogs Fran..hope you are OK. X
ReplyDeleteKaren - oh yes, Karen, and it has often been my downfall.
ReplyDeleteFrances - that's very kind. I'm missing blogging, too! There just aren't enough hours in the day for me at the moment.