Reimagining the decor

Anne gave me this cute little pottery dish as a gift last year. Since then, it's possessed some nice real estate on our coffee table, though it's been a bit fourth-wheelish beside the beautiful Pewabic Pottery vase that Anne gave us for our wedding (though they match so well) and Rob's grandmother's carnival glass, which (to me, at least) all look so artsy and lovely together.

The pineapple Lifesaver, rather inexplicably, has been the little dish's sole inhabitant for some weeks past. (Well, not so inexplicably: I'm sick of Lifesavers, and I don't much like the pineapple ones. I must have dropped it in while cleaning out my purse or something--Talk about respect for artisanal crafts.)

Beginning this morning, the little dish has a nobler calling: holding the wedding ring that no longer fits well on my puffy and rashy ring finger, amongst the clutter of the ever-expanding jewelry collection usually strewn about my dresser.

The vase and carnival glass shall miss you, little dish, but they know it's for the best. The only thing I vaguely know about feng shui is the whole grouping principle: group in threes, group in odd numbers, avoid even-numbered groups, or something like that. Perhaps the house will keep itself clean now or something.

I already feel guilty for not wearing the ring, mostly because of Rob, though I've told him that I don't think the entire marriage is now null and void. (He may be trying to find a loophole. Nice shot.) Last week, I left if off for a few days, hoping the swelling and the rash would dissipate, which they did not. Unfortunately, two frequent library patrons noticed: "You look like you're gonna have a kid," in surprise. Affirmative. "WHERE'S YOUR WEDDING RING?" in mild horror. Oy.