19
Jan
11

the tale of the lost wedding ring

I have had a new blog introduced to me, Wild Ramblings: Stories and Essays from a New England Ecologist by Bill Lattrell and just read his true story of getting back a tool that was lost. As one commenter (Teresa Evangeline) remarked to him that the tractor part of his story of finding an old, dear tool at the bottom of an iced-over pond brought her an idea for a blog, it also brought me one. Mine will be shorter, I bet. But reading his makes me want to tell mine.

My spouse and I have loved “puttering” (his term) around our yard.  When we both had jobs outside the home office years ago, and pre-daughter, our weekend time was the best “flow” time for me – we would both be puttering in and around our prospective studios and planting beds, taking in the great feeling of sun air plant and space, following my muse’s many ideas. Ours is a little yard – only point one-nine acres – 52 by 170 feet. Long and narrow, it mimics all the family plots out here in the Rio Grande Valley where family land was divvied up narrowly to be able to get back to the irrigation ditch. Ours was our neighbor to the south’s older brother’s place before they moved to California probably in the 50’s or 60’s. Our house’s core was built in the 20’s out of sod adobe, called “Terrón,” cut from a grassy field near the rio.

So, I did lose my wedding ring in my yard one day. I had switched it to my pinkie finger because of tightness. I can remember switching it in bed one night. However, it was loose on that little finger. Later on, I was wearing gloves and was gathering leaves into plastic bags. I searched everywhere after realizing it was lost. I really did not know how or where it was lost at the time, but I was, of course, crestfallen. Fall of the year.

Okay – move to our next anniversary, which is in October – so a year later. Jeff and I were undertaking a neat project of installing 2 long railroad ties between 3 whiskey barrel planters to park our cars against and simultaneously create a path along our narrow drought-tolerant grass lawn. We were raking gravel back, digging trenches for ties, wrestling the barrels into place. There I was on my knees in the gravel when I saw it! My silver, made-by-Hopi band, all dusty amongst the grey pebbles. A narrow and perfect silver thin circle that caught my eye. The way it was lost became clear – this was the area where I had been loading leaves. And it didn’t land in the bag. Luckiest of people, me.

"Ode to clouds, rain and the path around the house" white earthenware 1989 © CC Snider-Bryan

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6 Responses to “the tale of the lost wedding ring”


  1. January 20, 2011 at 5:34 pm

    Cirrelda: Lost and then found, your wedding ring. What a story. I know you grieved over having lost it in the first place. And, I’ll bet you nearly had a party the day you found it. Very rare to have recovered such a precious item. Your property sounds so good. I have always coveted a slice of land in New Mexico that found its way to the irrigation canal. I’ve seen many of them and you have yours. But I think your story shows a lot about working with the land and making it yours and your family. Sod adobe called Terron. My O my, Cirrelda, you have the finest of earth beneath your feet. And a Hopi band as a wedding ring. Gosh, are we not lucky to live and breath in great Southwest?

    Tell me about “Ode to clouds, rain and the path around the house.”

    Su compadre,

    Jack

    • January 21, 2011 at 7:06 am

      So nice to get this reply, Jack – thanks for your many good thoughts.

      And I will briefly tell about my clay piece above — our Hopi-made wedding rings have their important combination of symbols: Clouds, Rain and the Path of Life. So, this clay picture I made is of our home with an imminent dark rain cloud (I have a photo of exactly the cloud almost bringing rain), and the path around the house shown clearly. The swath of river on the top right is placed where the river runs in relation to our house – we can walk over there from here.

      Jeff and I feel so fortunate to be where we are, after many years here.

      Hope you can have some neat encounters along your roads today, Jack.
      cc

  2. January 21, 2011 at 6:45 am

    This lost and found story is way better than mine! I don’t know if you believe in this sort of thing, but you were destined, in part because it was a ring made by the Hopi, to be reunited with this symbol of you marriage. This story is so rife with symbolism it is amazing. I loved the description of setting the whiskey barrels. Life in the Southwest sounds like it has many challenges, all worthwhile.

    • January 21, 2011 at 7:14 am

      Well, I do not think that, Bill! Your story has added info that sets the tale well in your family – and the picture of the pond is so clear. We can just be happy to be able to swap two neat stories!

      It is nice to hear your interpretation, and yes, I tend to move in those ways in my thoughts, too. If a thing is made by folks who rever and believe, then it will in itself maybe help the situation get back to harmony.

      Actually, saying that word harmony just now reminded me that for the Hopi the clouds and rain and the path all together signify harmony. I used to call this clay piece House Harmony piece. Had forgotten!!

      Thanks so much for coming over. I will come over to yours again soon.
      cc

  3. February 3, 2011 at 7:37 am

    Thanks, Bill!!
    Say, do you allow folks to subscribe to your blog? I didn’t see that choice pop up for me. If not, that is fine. Means I will put it up on my header tabs …
    cc


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