The husband came home last night.
He is off scamping tonight until Monday.
But we must make the best of the situation.
We have had breakfast together, during which time we never stopped gabbing. You would think we didn’t talk to each other for six months at a time. What do we find to talk about?
Rubbish mostly. But it is lovely to be able to share that rubbish with someone else who knows you like they know their own shadow.
We went to the jewellers and picked up my wedding ring. I lost one of the diamonds in it just before Christmas, and felt rather bereft. I took it to the jewellers for them to look at, and it had to be sent away, because, as is my wont, I had picked something complicated. The diamond was, I am told, a baguette cut, and they needed to send it to the jewelling equivalent of Pret A Manger or something. Trust me to pick something sandwich related.
I want to know if they do any other food based jewels. Oh yes madam, that’s a croissant emerald set in a surround of eclair sapphires etc.
Anyway. They sent me a quote. I made a squinchy lemon face and sucked my teeth and wept a little, then put things on hold while I furtled about in the back of the sofa.
Two furry Love Hearts, a button and a Nerf gun bullet later we were sorted.
I have felt most strange all these weeks without the ring.
It turns out that I do this thing with my thumb, when I am a little disconcerted or in need of a bit of comfort. I sort of rub the back of the ring with my thumb so that it rocks gently up and down, and it makes me feel better about life in general. Which is very weird, but better than injecting crack into my eyeballs I guess.
I have been doing the thumb thing countless times a day in recent weeks to no avail, and then feeling very self conscious and slightly bereft, and more than a little stupid.
But now the ring is back and I can continue with the strange habit uninterrupted and look married again, which is excellent.
And it’s all clean and sparkly so it looks like we only just got married, even though it was at least a hundred years ago now by my reckoning.
It’s just a shame that I don’t look as sparkly as the ring.