"It wants to be found."

I have a silver ring that I wear on my left ring finger. It's nothing special, has no real sentimental value - I just like it. It's one of those rings that look like the handle of a spoon that's been bent.

Anyway, I went shopping on Friday night for birthday presents for my niece and my father. I tried on black leather gloves (for myself, of course), found a pair I liked, threw them in the carriage and went on with my shopping. I went to 2 more stores after that, and then home.

When I took off my jewelry before getting into bed I realized that the ring was gone. My precious was lost. Oh well, I thought, it must be in the ring finger of one of those gloves I tried on.

So, last night I was dusting the baker's rack in the kitchen. I stopped to shake out the dust rag when I heard a distinctive clink as something fell from the rag onto the floor. My ring! We founds it!

And no, I have no idea how it got there; I have no memory of putting it on the baker's rack and the dust towel I used was taken from the back of one of the kitchen drawers that we never go into.

I'm just happy to have it back on my finger, so pretty, so perfect, so preciooouusssss.