Crazy Cream and the Found Ring

One of the sometimes, slightly disturbing aspects of being 53, going on 54, are the memory lapses. Nothing too bad so far, just those moments when you can see some actors face in your head, but you can't come up with the name, no matter how hard you try.  Or if I'm really tired I can't think of the right word I want to use.  I've read that it's best to think about something else, then the name or word pops into your head.  It works.  Somewhat comforting.  I guess.

But then there's the losing know they have to be in a certain place, but you can't find them.  Back last fall I realized there was a turquoise ring that I just couldn't find.  Kept retracing my steps like they say you should, but no luck.  I had narrowed it down to a day when we had picked up some roasted chili peppers and I knew I was wearing it that day, because the chili pepper stand lady commented on the ring.  And I had this terrible sinking feeling that the ring was in a black plastic trash bag, one full of hatch chili pepper skins laying in a landfill somewhere.

I'm not typically attached to things too much.  I have a few things very precious to me, the things you'd grab in a fire, so to speak.  Usually they are gifts from others that have some sentimental value to them.  In this case the ring was one I had bought for a ridiculously low price on Ebay.  Not long after getting it, the stone cracked and came out, and rather miraculously, I found a replacement stone, also on Ebay.  Then on my last trip to Ouray, I took it to a silversmith in town, who's work I'd always admired.  She reset the new stone, and it was even better than it had been originally.  I love this ring.  I don't think I've ever worn it when someone doesn't comment on it.  This summer I was at a meeting at a VERY wealthy person's house, for an upcoming event.  Her House Manager (yes, THAT wealthy) was from England, and he commented on the ring, calling it "stunning".  It's a nice ring.  With the original purchase on Ebay, then the replacement stone, and the repair work, I paid just about $100 for it, but it's a treasure.

In the ultimate moment of perimenopausal irony.......................this morning................

I couldn't find my Progesterone Cream.  I knew it was at the house but could not find it anywhere, though I'd had it last night. Now the vast majority of you reading this will not find this even vaguely interesting, but this stuff is magic.................Pro-Gest.  It has been dubbed "Crazy Cream" at my house.  It helps me NOT be crazy.  But I couldn't find it. At the last moment, I decided to pull out the sofa cushions.................and guess what?

Yep.  And then I went back upstairs, and found my Crazy Cream too.


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