My good luck

Lost Then Found

It was a small thing, really, an earring. That piece of jewelry and its pair meant a lot to me. And I was distraught when I lost it.

But hold on. There’s more to this story.

First, the earrings are Native-made from the Four Corners area of the Southwest. That’s where my sister, Christine, bought them. They were a gift from her several years ago, which adds to their value.

I loved the earrings’ design created in silver and a bit of coral. So have countless strangers who have stopped to tell me. A Taos Pueblo shop owner told me he hadn’t seen that quality in twenty years.

I wore them almost every day.

But then one night about two weeks ago while watching TV, I touched my right earlobe and discovered the earring was missing. Oh, no.

So, the search began, hampered from the get-go because I didn’t know exactly when I lost the earring — only when I discovered it was gone. I searched the apartment we’re renting and the house we’re renovating. Both cars. Hank helped. Nothing.

Then I retraced my steps for the day.

Since moving to Western Mass., I’ve been typically wearing three tops, a heavy jacket, scarf, and woolen hat because it’s so darn cold and damp. Could I have lost the earring when I removed one of them during my errands?

I asked at the coffee shop and stores in the village. Nothing. (I must say from what I’ve seen, people lose a lot of eyeglasses.) I searched the ground where I walked. Nothing again.

Two weeks passed. I became philosophical about attachment and loss. Perhaps, as a daughter suggested, I could turn the sole survivor into a pendant.

But every time I’d see one of my photos, I would be wearing those earrings. Damn, they were a part of me.

Then the other day, we had a wet four inches of snow . I grabbed a shovel to clear my parking space at the house. Because it’s so close to the road, it catches a lot of heavy snow from the highway department truck’s plow blade.

As I shoveled snow, I notice something shiny on the ground. I looked closer. Yes, it was the earring. It must have fallen beneath the car when I took off my hat or a scarf or something else.

I cried out loud at my good fortune. Hank, who was working inside, was surprised when I told him.

During the past two weeks, there was a long spell when that parking space was clear to the asphalt. Why hadn’t I noticed the earring before? I guess I just wasn’t looking there.

So, where are the earrings now? That night I cleaned and polished them with a jeweler’s cloth and put them away for safekeeping until I no longer wear heavy clothes. I vow to use guards on the hoops. In the meantime, I wear a pair that would take quite a yank to lose.

Is there a lesson here? Oh, sure, probably something about faith and attachments. But the God’s honest truth? I’m just happy to have it back.

SOME WRITING NEWS: Thanks to Fiona Mcvie for hosting me on her author blog. Here’s the link:


books, Native American, New Mexico, Taos, Writing

Silver Beads from Window Rock

I promised myself I would buy a string of silver beads, Native-made, when I sold my book. It would be my reward. Alas, that hasn’t happened yet despite the earnest efforts of my agent.

So when my parents gave me a gift of money, I decided to spend a little on myself. Yes, you guessed correctly. I bought the necklace I coveted.

I knew long ago to buy the necklace at Tony Reyna’s Indian Shop. Tony, who is 99, is a survivor of the Bataan Death March in World War II and one of the most revered persons in the Taos area. We’ve eaten with his family on Christmas Eve and San Geronimo Feast Day. We’ve bought gifts from his shop, which his son, Philip, now runs.

Philip had a selection of silver beads but not the style — plain not carved  — in the length I wanted. But he said he could order one from a man he knows from Window Rock in Navajo Nation.  Philip called a couple of weeks later. He had a necklace he thought I’d like. Ironically the man from Window Rock came in soon after I left the shop. The necklace just arrived in the mail.

The silver beads go with the three pairs of earrings my sister, Christine, gave me from her collection of Native jewelry. I’ve decided to wear the beads  every day except when I work outside. So far, that’s held true.

As for treating myself when the book is sold. Well, frankly, that would be its own reward.

No comment: I removed the comments option this week. I grew tired of deleting spam from ne’er-do-wells who think they can fool me by offering clever observations and compliments about this website — the same ones over and over. Meanwhile they are pitching Nike and Louis Vuitton. So I wasn’t fooled at all.