Last week, as I was getting ready for bed, I took a moment to remove my engagement ring. I do this every night, even though I’ve had it for four months now. I’m still getting used to this permanent and gorgeous piece of jewelry, and am not a fan of wearing it when cooking, showering, or even sleeping.
I paused to do my normal “Oooo, pretty…” examination, and felt a cold pit in my stomach when I saw that one of the pave diamonds in the band was missing. Army Boy entered the room at that point, and was frightened by the look on my face.
“Babe, what’s up?!” he questioned. I mutely held the ring out to him, pointing to the gap in the band.
“Aw, I’m sorry hon. Is this the first time that you noticed it?”
“Definitely. CRAP. It could be at work, or in the car… Maybe it’s in the house!” I realized, and began an exhaustive search. Army Boy, ever the practical one, got the ring’s appraisal and papers out of our lock box and was ready for when I tired of pacing around the house, staring at the floor, couch and surfaces.
“Don’t worry about it,” he offered. “I’ll take it down to the jeweler tomorrow and let them know what happened. It’s got a warranty.”
“But I BROKE IT,” I wailed. “Now you’ll never buy me anything nice because I broke my diamond. What if I break our puppy?!!??!”
He laughed at me. (Jerk.) “What, I’m going to come home one day and see that the dog is missing an eye? ‘Oh hey, what happened?!'”
“You are not funny and I hate you,” was my mature rebuttal.
Fortunately, Twitter grasped the gravity of the situation and everyone told me that a jewelry emergency was a perfect reason to take a sick day. I’m a loser and decided not to.
As promised, the jeweler was wonderful and sent my ring back to the designer to be repaired and checked. For now, I’m back to wearing my Claddagh ring on the all-important finger, and feeling like someone from “Sister Wives.” For some reason, Army Boy doesn’t appreciate it when I call him ‘Kody.”
In more wedding-related news, I found a winner in the Quest for the Shoes. After a couple of weeks of searching, and 2 failed purchases, I went with this lovely heel from Nordstrom:
I was concerned about the gold heel and the color of the sparkles at first- without seeing them in person, I wasn’t sure if the glitter would be silver enough for me. When they arrived, they were perfect! The sparkles reflect a rainbow of color, achieving the “grown-up ruby slippers” effect that I wanted. The heels are higher than I originally started searching for, so I’ll probably need to pick out a pair of backups for after the ceremony.
Thanks for indulging my search and not judging my first world problems- especially to dear Hamlet’s Mistress who weighed in with some suggestions and opinions.
We caved last week and ordered our Save The Dates, using an image that I’d taken while we were on our “Engagement Week” vacation in New England. Just for fun, I started playing around with the pool table at our B&B, and snapped the following shot:
I really wanted to pick the best of our engagement photos and use that for a Save the Date, but Army Boy and Mom were quick to point out that not everyone wants to save a photo of the bride- and groom-to-be. Our photos themselves have decided not to arrive yet, so that decision was made for us. I’m also ok with the fact that we can get copies of the best photo for ourselves and the family/friends that really want one.
We decided to use Vistaprint for the STDs (still not old enough to not laugh at that abbreviation), and are very pleased with the result. The color is gorgeous and they gave me a lot of freedom to place the image and text exactly where I wanted to (versus a premade template which seems the norm on some of the other photo sites). Mom, Army Boy’s Mom and I are having a Girls Meeting this week to put together our address books and get ready for the project of sending these babies out.
I probably would have welcomed a Sister Wife this weekend, as we started on our Great Fence Project (it’s capitalized to make it more EPIC). We were lucky enough to have a couple of gorgeous days in the mid-70s, which were perfect for spending the whole day outside. When we originally moved into the Casa, the backyard was completely over-shadowed by two MASSIVE trees. I was in love with them both, but realized as the year went on that A: Grass didn’t like to grow and B: Wow. Messy. Ew. We painfully (because I am a total hippie and CAN’T KILL TREES, MAN) made the decision to take down the massive walnut tree that sat right in the middle of the yard.
The day of, it was fortunate that I was at work and didn’t have the option to state a mini-protest. I said goodbye to the tree, and noticed that a squirrel was on hand to protest for me.
When I arrived home, I was overjoyed to see that we have a YARD. With real sun!
In preparation for the arrival of our Christmas bundle of puppy joy, we’re fencing in a portion of that lovely yard.
Army Boy rented (and got a huge kick out of operating) a gas-powered post hole digger, and managed to get the perimeter staked out on Saturday. I learned the valuable lesson of “Men do things the mathematical way, and do not appreciate if you interrupt to tell them that it ‘looks stupid.'” Other than that, I was a vital helper in “Hammering in Stakes” and “Making Sure Posts are Level.”
For day two of the project, Brother J joined us and I was freed to do some of the other millions of household tasks that get crammed into our weekend. For real, guys… We were in bed by 9:30 last night. It keeps getting earlier and earlier. I also gave in to the last tenet of domesticity and made a meal using a CROCK POT. I don’t know why I felt the need to admit that… other than that it was really good. (Thanks to Tasty Kitchen for a kickass pulled pork recipe). I’m still not at the point where I’m ready to leave the house and leave the thing on all day. There is far too much crazy in my head for that.
Speaking of “crazy in my head,” I think I’ve shared enough of it for this Monday.