A Tale of Rings and a Healing Finger: An Anniversary Blogpost

I don't even know if this is blogworthy story, but I'm due for an update, so here goes.

Two months ago today I was married to my lovely wife. We had previously carefully picked out our wedding bands and even had them engraved , and the very nice salesman at the shop insisted that we get mine a half-size smaller than we had decided, since my finger would surely shrink in the winter months. I learned quickly, however, that we should have gone with the half-size bigger (you wouldn't really think a half a size makes that much difference, but oh how it does). My finger was rapidly swelling and at times the ring wouldn't even fit on or off of it without much pain and extreme difficulty. I was pretty sure your wedding band shouldn't put your finger in a state of perpetual throbbing and pain, but I thought it might just be the California humidity or getting used to a new ring or something. After a while I just quit trying to remove it altogether, which very quickly started to cause a band of raw, white, pinched skin at the base of my ring finger. The ring store and online research suggested I give it a couple months, since winter was coming, but I decided in the end that I would rather have it be a little loose for half the year than unbearably tight for the opposite half. Luckily the ring shop provides care for the life of the ring, and while Tungsten, evidently the hardest of all metals, cannot be resized (which is a shame, because Julie and I are both a little sentimental about these sorts of things and I wanted to keep hold of my original wedding band), they were willing to replace it (and they had better, since it was their idea to get a ring that was too small for my finger), and I quite insisted they foot any bill for the engraving too (even though we didn't originally have it engraved at that location...). They were nice enough to provide this little loaner in the interim so I looked like a married man still:


I'll spare you all the details of the following two days weeks that it took to provide my replacement, and suffice it to say that I called once, sometimes twice every day as suggested, only to find that it had been engraved crooked at least three times, and then the $100,000 machine was broken and needed to be fixed, and then when it finally arrived, believe it or not, they had misspelled the engraving. I mean... isn't that something you double- and triple-check the spelling for? Several days later, a ten-minute job was finally finished and I am now wearing the wedding band we picked out, but in the size that was meant for my finger. I'm a happy man, and my finger is healing nicely.

Happy anniversary, baby! Kuv hlub koj!