|engagement middle. 21st left. just because right.|
I have three rings given to me by my Dad. One for my twenty first, one for my engagement (it's complicated. Marc never got round to it, and Dad found a bobby dazzler for his girl. He sent it in the post. Can you imagine it) and one just because. They are beautiful, and I hardly ever wear them. They are actually precious, in that the stones are real diamonds and sapphires. They scare me little I have to admit. The above photo does not show them off at their best, because they glint and sparkle like nobody's business.
Before I had children, I always thought that I'd pass them onto the daughters I would most definitely have. I didn't have them. So now I think that maybe the boys might like to give them to their girls when they are older. Maybe as an engagement ring, if that's the path they eventually travel. Or maybe I'll give them to my grand-daughters, if I have any.
I should wear them. They are kept out of sight in a box at the back of my knicker drawer. And while I'm at it, I'll have a make over at one of those counters, have my hair styled, get my eyebrows waxed, paint my nails, pop on a pair of heels and sashay down the cobbles of Fore Street as if I'm Elizabeth Taylor.
I quite fancy being a diva.
If you'd like to read more Precious Things,
pop along to the following contributors
Sarah at Mitenska
N at Creative Academia
Bee at The Linen Cloud