KERRE MCIVOR
OUR COLUMNIST PANICS WHEN A PRECIOUS POSSESSION GOES MISSING
It’s a dreadful feeling, realising you have misplaced something precious. It happened to me last weekend. The husband and I were getting ready to go kayaking.
We had to get a wriggle on as the tide was about to turn and we were taking the kayak on the harbour. If we left it too late, we would end up stranded, forced to wade through stinking mud back to shore, carrying a 30kg kayak on our shoulders.
Although I love my husband very much, I doubt our marriage could survive such a trial. So, hence the need for haste. Tom was lashing the kayak onto the roof of the car, while I raced around collecting towels, water, sunscreen and sunglasses.
I wrenched my engagement ring off my finger and put it on the dining table. It’s a bit rough and ready getting the kayak off the car and I didn’t want the ring to take a knock. I love my engagement ring. In fact, I love it so much, I haven’t bothered with a wedding ring.
When the Irishman and I decided to take the plunge, and I was on the hunt for The Ring, it was my daughter who found the perfect one. It was an antique and Kate said the ring reminded her of me – loud, sparkly and fun. Although the antique was too delicate for me and my rambunctious lifestyle, so I had a copy made by a local jeweller. I love it, so I removed it before our aquatic adventure.
I popped my ring on the table, then thought, ‘Well, that’s silly. Why would you leave it on the table in full view of burglars? Why don’t you put it …?’ And that was the last thing I remembered.
When we returned from our paddle, I realised with horror I had no idea where I’d put my precious ring. I looked in all the usual places and nope, nada, nothing. I tried to reason with myself by repeating “It must be in the house. There’s nowhere else it can be. It’s in the house somewhere.” But that didn’t help. As the day turned to night, and my sparkly disco ball was still nowhere to be found, reason and logic gave way to panic.
I have lost many possessions over the years and it’s not just because I’m a slap-dash flibbertigibbert. It’s because of all the MCing and presenting I do around the country, I tend to stay in hotels a lot and what with all the packing and unpacking, things can – and do – go missing.
The search for it did bear some positive fruit. I cleaned out the fridge and the cutlery drawers, and my undies drawer. I remade my bed and then Tom’s, but still the ring remained missing. I resolved to phone a psychic or a hypnotist if it didn’t show up by the end of the week.
Look at the photos from the
Fair Go shoot in this magazine. No glittering bauble on my digit! My finger felt empty without it. And then, as I went through my bedroom drawers one more time, I heard a clunk. A satisfyingly solid thunk. My ring! For some reason, I had put it in a precious momentos drawer, the one with all the cards and letters from Tom, Kate and Mum. I had searched that drawer but it had got caught up in one of Kate’s cards.
It’s back on my finger now and I keep glancing down to make sure it’s still there. And I’ve resolved to follow a piece of advice given to me when I bewailed my loss on Facebook. Next time you hide something, take a photo on your phone of the hiding place. That will save a lot of time and stress!
‘ It was an antique and Kate said the ring reminded her of me – loud, sparkly and fun’