30 Jun 2010

Whatever happened to?

I flashed back to one of my former possessions today. My vintage sterling silver western saddle ring; a gift from my best friend, Katie, in junior high. A small but perfectly formed little silver saddle that sat on my finger, which featured hand tooled details, just like the leather on a real saddle, and a tiny little rope hanging off the pommel, and a wee little turquoise chip set into the horn.

The pommel is the rise at the front of the saddle and the horn is the sticky up bit at the front, for those uninitiated into the ways of western tack. I used to ride with a western saddle, way back when I was young enough to wear a silver saddle ring, and getting thrown from a horse didn’t hurt so damned bad.

When I remembered the ring today I went looking on US eBay because I knew, if there was a silver saddle ring to be had, that’s where I’d find it. You can find anything you want these days on eBay, pretty much. I did actually find a couple of saddle rings, but none of them could hold a candle to the memory of the one I used to own. Though this one came close.

I held on to my saddle ring for three decades, even when it became too small for me and I had to stop wearing it. I loved it. I have no idea where it is now. Somewhere along the way from there to here I lost it and today I am having a little nostalgia fest for my old saddle ring, and I decided to invite some friends.

I know we’re only talking about stuff here, and stuff isn’t really important, but I wonder if there’s something you once had, that you loved, and managed to lose somehow? Something you’d like to have back, if only you could? (No, your misspent youth does not count.) If so, just set it down there amongst the general splendour of my missing saddle ring, where it can be admired by all.

PS: The contest announced in the last podcast now has actual winners whose names will be declared in the next podcast, which is the one I’m currently working on. Thank you for playing along if you did.

PPS: There will be more words here again soon. I’m using up the words in another place right now, but as soon as I have a few to spare, I’ll be back.

Posted on June 30, in Blog


  1. Emily wrote:

    What a nice post. The physical thing I’ve lost that I wish the most I could get back are my mom’s diamond earrings. They were small white gold hoops, maybe a half inch wide and the sort of hugged the ear lobe rather than dangled down, with yellow gold edges, and they had a few tiny diamonds sprinkled across them.

    My mom died when I was 16, and when I was 17 my dad & I went to look at colleges and I left the earrings in a hotel bathroom.

    I still kick myself for that.

    Posted on 6.30.10 ·
  2. If there was one thing that I had that I would like back it would be the little red purse that my great-grandmother gave me for my 5th birthday. Long strap, hidden zip pocket, candy apple red (fake) leather, 6″ square. I carried that purse everywhere, but have no idea what ever happened to it. I only have wistful pictures of me walking along the beach while wearing a sundress, carrying that little purse. I’m pretty sure I filled it with seashells.

    Posted on 6.30.10 ·
  3. Aurore wrote:

    The posession I miss the most is a little metal bird that jumped when you turned its key. I never get rid of it, but someway, it has disappeared.

    Posted on 6.30.10 ·
  4. Sarah wrote:

    A sweater. (Of course.) That my mother knit for me. A blue-with-a-bit-of-pink hoodie with handwarmer pocket, double-knit and very warm.

    It was one of those surprisingly ambitious spring days, and the middle-school talent show rehearsal distracted me enough (and probably provided opportunity) to forget that I had needed a sweater that morning. So I went home without it, and never found it again, despite teary regrets to my mother and repeated trips to the school lost-and-found.

    Posted on 6.30.10 ·
  5. DebbieQ wrote:

    Oh how interesting to think about this. I have to say that the one thing that I would love to have back is something that was one of a kind. My grandmother made me what I can only describe as a giant stuffed “sea snake” that she sewed using fabric that had meaning to me. I slept with it every night. When I went off to college my mother stored it in the basement but it has since disappeared and she has no idea where it went. The thing was probably only 3 feet long but it seemed huge to me at the time.

    Posted on 7.1.10 ·
  6. The one possession I miss most is the quilt my grandmother made me my senior year of high school. She choose each square of fabric so carefully; in the bright yellows and purples of which were my favorite. The tag on the back said, “From Grandma Edmunds; To My favorite granddaughter”. I moved in with my ex-husband’s parents and the quilt was stored in a box in their basement. Unbeknown to me, they lost their house last year so I can never get it back. Unfortunately, my grandmother passed away in 2006 so I can’t have her make me another one.

    Posted on 7.1.10 ·
  7. LoriAngela wrote:

    I was heartbroken when I lost the locket my husband gave me on our first baby’s birth. I had worn it to dinner and taken it off because he gave me a new necklace. Years later her found it when he was cleaning up my (packrat) empty gift and jewellery boxes. Now I wear the locket on that chain. And my baby is 19.

    Posted on 7.1.10 ·
  8. Lesley wrote:

    There are two, and both are jewellery.

    The first is my birthstone ring. It was gold, with a gold heart, inside the heart were two sapphires. My parents gave it to me the day my brother was born (I was nearly 11), and I wore it constantly. When I was 16 I had to do a gym class and since my teacher had reprimanded me for wearing the ring at the last class, I took it off and tucked it into my backpack. I never saw it again.

    The second was a thin silver bracelet, with a short band of yellow and white beads that looked like daisies. It was one of those c-shaped braclets and the beaded part was the clasp, if that makes any sense. My mother had given it to me, it had been hers. She grew up fairly poor, and this was the first thing she had bought with her own money earned at her first job at 15. It went missing on a class trip.

    Everytime I think about them I feel a little sick.

    Posted on 7.1.10 ·
  9. Melody wrote:

    My parents bought this really ugly rocker when they found out they were pregnant with me (50+ years ago). When they both passed away, the rocker came to me. This is the rocker I rocked my babies to sleep in while visiting my parents This is the rocker that I sat it to knit my first sweater for my daughter. This is the rocker I sat in when the grief overcame me, the place I went to remember the love of my parents.

    I moved a few years ago and had to put all of my furniture in storage for several months. When I was finally able to move the furniture into my new home, the rocker was gone.

    My hope is that the person who now possesses this wonderful “ugly” rocker, gets as much joy and comfort out of it as I did.

    Posted on 7.1.10 ·
  10. JayeL wrote:

    I had a Kerry doll that lived at my godmother’s house. She had hair that grew. My mom made clothes for her. When my godmother was too ill to live alone anymore, all of her stuff and our toys were put into the garage while the house was rented out. When she died we were not allowed to retrieve anything and everything was sold. I still mourn that doll for some reason. I don’t think I want another one. They have them on eBay, so I could get one. I want the one I had with all of her clothes. Oh well.

    Posted on 7.1.10 ·
  11. Wyn Jones wrote:

    I miss the copy of the “Ladies Home Elocutionist” that had belonged to my great-grandmother. It was published in 1899 and was full of glorious poems, monologues, and tableaus for Victorian ladies. (Remember the things that the stuffy ladies performed in ‘The Music Man’?) It disappeared – along with the rest of the books in that box – during one of the times I moved after my divorce. Since I moved four times in three years, I have no idea where it went. And I just googled for it – no hits on ebay or Amazon. (Honorable mention – the star sapphire ring that my mother gave me for my sixteenth birthday. I decided to wear it with a costume one Halloween. But the costume included gloves. Hey – I can fit it on my pinkie over the glove. And then not feel it fall off!)

    Posted on 7.1.10 ·
  12. Leslie wrote:

    I have lived most of my life as either a military dependent and many things have gone missing in the course of our various moves but strangely the one thing that I miss most is a pendant I managed to forget all by myself. When I was pregnant with our second daughter my hands swelled up and the wedding ring had to be moved to a chain. My husband surprised me one day with a little unicorn pendant to wear along with it because he knew I loved the creatures. A few years later my best friend was getting married and our girls and myself were part of the wedding party and had to travel out of town for the event. As the pendant didn’t match the outfit I had to wear I left it in a box in the changing room. Once I got home I realized my necklace was not with me and when I called my friend she assured me she had brought it home and would send it off in the mail in a few days. Ironically, a few evenings later she was on patrol as an auxiliary police officer when her home was broken into(hubby was out) and the necklace and other jewelery items were stolen. I did purchase another pendant but it was not the same. I had spent months holding it between thumb and fingers and the second one was not quite the same size or weight and I never really became that attached to it. It’s sort of like “you can’t go home again” – the original pendant was a gift of the heart – for no particular reason and I love my husband forever for being so sweet. The replacement pendant does nothing more that remind me of it’s predecessor. Kind of sad I suppose but if you have ever replaced something like that you know what I mean.

    Posted on 7.1.10 ·
  13. I lost my 50th anniversay ring which I designed and my husband bought for me. It was the most precious thing I had gotten in a long time. It had a large oval blue star sapphire (not real but laboratory made) and real 2-1/4 carot diamonds on each side. The band was a mens small (not bulky) gold band. I lost it while going tp 3-4 different places of which they have never seen it. If anyone runs across it please let me know at serenityherbs@yahoo.com and there will be a little reward. Our local jeweler will recognize it because he put it together for me special.

    Posted on 7.2.10 ·
  14. Val of the south wrote:

    2 for me too – first my Hawaiian wedding band with my name inscribed on it. It was too teeny for me, so I only got to wear it a few times…but now that it would actually fit, it’s lost, and I’m sad 🙁

    The other is a leaf circle ring that my mom bought for all the girls in my church group from Avon when I was like 12. I wore it until the silver came off and it’s now lost too. Apparently I’m not careful with jewelry 🙂

    Posted on 7.2.10 ·
  15. Barbara Heinrich wrote:

    Two things come to mind- the first thing I lost isn’t of sentimental value so much as practical. I had an address book for many many years, one of the freebie pocket calenders you could get at the local Hallmark store. It had EVERYBODY’s birthday, anniversary, or whatever date in it and it made me look much more thoughtful and cognizant then I really am.
    It disappeared and although I have a replacement- a day calender that is a bit too big and I just can’t seem to remember to look at it once a month like I did with the original.
    Maybe it will turn up someday. I can only hope. The second thing, or rather things, were the oriental rugs that were in my grandmother’s house on Cape Cod. Someone broke into the house one winter and stool all the rugs. Every time I go into an antique store or a white elephant store, I check out the rugs just on the off chance one will be there.
    I’ll keep my eye out for a really cool saddle ring in the future as well!

    Posted on 7.2.10 ·
  16. Susan wrote:

    My doll, Ruthie, and the box of clothes my mother made for her. What made them so special is that they were replicas of dresses my mother made for me: the plaid dress with the solid gold bodice, the green velveteen with white chiffon sleeves…

    When I was around 12, I decided I was far too grown up to have them any longer, and gave them to the church for the annual rummage sale. I keep hoping that, one year, they’ll turn up again at the same sale. Since it’s been thirty-seven years already, it seems to be a wish in vain.

    Posted on 7.3.10 ·
  17. Devon wrote:

    Somewhere in the moving of the past several years I lost my high school year books. While I really don’t need all four, it would have been nice to keep my senior yearbook. I occasionally think of looking something up in it and wish that I could. Really though, my life is a little bit lighter without them and I still have the memories.

    Posted on 7.4.10 ·
  18. Catherine Loughman wrote:

    Brenda, I just wanted to give you a big thank you for your podcast on Trigger Point Therapy — in Episode 91? It has helped my DH free up his shoulder very nicely and it’s helping me with various muscle issues and knee issues brought about by vigorous exercising and not enough stretching. I am blown away by how effective this treatment is AND how affordable AND how Do-it-yourself it is.

    You really, really rock! I’m so glad I found your podcast for both knitterly and general reasons.
    Thanks – and if I ever get to meet you in person I shall bow down and kiss the hem of your sweater.


    Posted on 7.6.10 ·
  19. I have been obsessed with all things western lately. I’ve done so many ridiculous ebay searches – my favorite of which being cowboy boot rain boots – but it never occurred to me to look for western jewelry (except for earrings). I am now doing a most thorough search for all kinds of western-inspired jewelry.

    The material possession I lost and miss most: a simple gold ring with a real diamond (the only one I ever owned) on it. My grandfather used to were it on his pinkie finger, and I inherited it when he died. He gave each of his grandchildren one of his rings. I lost it in high school sometime before, during, or after a soccer game. I’ve always suspected that my then- good friend stole it, but I’ll never know.

    Posted on 7.7.10 ·
  20. Mary wrote:

    My green free-be steel-framed heavy-as-hell completely indestructible commuter bicycle. Choosing to have no car, we went everywhere together (and often beat my friends who were driving). Dependable, simple, and it fit me to a T.
    Sadly, it died in Texas of unrecoverable rust corrosion. (A lot of things died in Texas.)
    Not a day goes by that I don’t miss it terribly. My spiffy new commuter bike which I actually paid money for, while excellent, doesn’t even come close to my old “junker.”

    Sorry for your ring.

    Posted on 7.7.10 ·
  21. susan in dulwich wrote:

    When I was 21, I was studying in France for the year. It was too far and too expensive to travel back to Chicago for Christmas so I went to some relatives in Bavaria. They told me about our shared family history and gave me a series of family letters exchanged between my US immigrant relatives and the family they left behind in Germany (letters dated from circa 1900).
    They were written in lovely old fashioned script, old German words(kindly translated for my by an eldery relative), on that fragile onion skin-like paper we used to write airmail letters on. They didn’t contain anything particularly exciting, but it was such a wonderful window into the ordinary doings of ordinary people I had met through a few grainy, black and white photos. I took them back with me to Uni in France and tucked them away.
    When my year abroad was over, my parents came to see where I had been living and to do a little sightseeing before we flew home together. With all our possessions tucked into the boot of the car we drove around and enjoyed the gorgeous French countryside. In one market town we locked up the car and wandered off to the square to find some lunch…when we returned the rear window was smashed and all our things were gone, with them those precious letters which can never be replaced. So treasured by me and so surely worthless to the thief who took them.

    Posted on 7.9.10 ·
  22. kelli wrote:

    I received a gift certificate to a fancy store when I graduated from High School. I bought a watch (inexpensive, though it was) which, I think, was stolen during my Sophomore year at college. I’d love to have that watch back, though it wasn’t all that expensive, it was something that I spent a good deal of time choosing.

    Posted on 7.14.10 ·
  23. Tanya wrote:

    Hi Brenda, I just wanted to let you know I’m having some problems downloading episode 64 and anything earlier than that, both through iTunes and the website. Is it my fault?? Or is there something going wrong with the files?

    Thanks so much for the fantastic podcast, I hope you’re enjoying your summer break and that your shoulder is feeling a lot better now.

    Posted on 7.24.10 ·
  24. Tanya, thanks for letting me know. You’re not the first person to get in touch this week. I can’t get the files either, so something must be up. I’m guessing it’s a problem with the host, and not the files, but I’ll let you know.

    Posted on 7.24.10 ·
  25. My mother purchased for me in one of her hippy dippy new-age shops a rutilated quartz point pendant. It wasn’t because it had good vibrations or would improve my aura or anything, but rather because she said that it looked as if a lock of my hair had been caught in the stone, so she thought I should have it.

    My mother died, at the age of 46, four months before I got married. I lost the quartz point pendant probably five years before that. I often think of it and wonder where it went, and each time I see a piece of rutilated quartz, I think of my Mama. Which I suppose means that it isn’t really gone at all?

    Posted on 8.9.10 ·
  26. Ursula Myers wrote:

    The only picture that existed of my birth father was in a small locket. I had a locker at the train station in Frankfurt, Germany with some clothes, LPs (yes that long ago) and the locket. I went to a club where somebody stole my key. When I went to the storage locker, it stood open and all was gone. The sad thing is that the locket wasn’t worth much and to that person but meant everything to me. The clothes and LPs could be replaced but not that picture. I just wish I remembered what he looked like.

    Posted on 8.27.10 ·

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