In which I explain the Abortion Ring

I feel like it's time for something totally random and non-stressy. Also, this will give you some better idea where I come from.If you don't know, I grew up in countries like India and Bangladesh, where we lived in a huge house with a walled-in yard and had a whole retinue of servants - without being what we in the US would consider wealthy.

And these are places where labor is cheap, craftsmanship amazing, and things like daily life and gemstones do not, relatively speaking, cost a whole lot.

Betty and her friends had many social events, time to shop, and their favorite merchants. With jewelers, of course, being high on the list of favorites. And so, much like we might see a fun bauble we like at Target, she'd buy a Tuesday ring.

Just because. La la la.

Yes, I sometimes long for this.

And so over the years, Betty managed to acquire some fantastic, and fabulously interesting, jewelry. Some of which she has passed on to me.

Also, it is worth mentioning that she maybe names everything. Which is probably where I get it from.

So somewhere in the world - India, I think, or maybe Nepal - she acquired the Abortion Ring. The middle is one ginormous, oddly shaped pearl, surrounded by turquoise petals. And when she saw it, she decided that that misshapen pearl was in her mind what an aborted fetus might look like.
Yes. No?

The overall effect is pretty, but upon closer inspection, the pearl really is kind of creepy.

Plus, the first picture gives you some idea of the hugeness of it. There's nothing subtle about this ring.

So between countries one year, my mom put a lot of her jewelry in a safe deposit box in Virginia. At some point they got a letter saying the bank had changed hands, but they should feel assured that everything had been transferred safely and securely.

Upon return to the US, they went to the bank to check in on their belongings. It was explained to them that they'd taken my mother's handwritten (and, I might add, meticulous) records, checked them against the contents of the box, and typed them up. They were handed the box, with the records.

And there they were, all those special treasures, all with their particular labels: Tuesday ring, Hyderabad pearls, bag of jade, fire opal with ugly setting, tiny Buddha...and so on. Down to Abortion Ring.

Can you imagine typing up this list?

I've since inherited it. It's one of my favorite pieces of jewelry, and I always get compliments on it.

Although I have learned that responding with, "Oh thank you! It's the Abortion Ring!" is much like announcing that your blog title is your porn name at an elegant, conservative club.

The remembering of which has not yet become second nature to me.