Doe anyone care about the ring? The bling?
As a neurotic control freak, I do not particularly care for surprises so The Candyman and I had several discussions regarding our upcoming betrothal. While The Candyman is an attorney, he has many, many, many thousands of dollars in student loans to re-pay. A veritable crisis for a woman with her heart set on something. We first visited The Shane Company. While the staff and service are always impeccable (I get my jewelry repaired there regularly), I started feeling woozy soon after entering the store. Diamonds, apparently, aren't my thang.
The following weekend we tried a different tactic and visited the lovely Walton's Antique & Estate Jewelry in Franklin, TN. Again, nausea. What was this? Cold feet? Was my body channeling Carrie Bradshaw's wedding-dress-hives-fiasco? Whatever it was, it just wasn't working, so we went for ice cream.
I shared these experiences with my mom one night, who out of nowhere, offers up her ring as my engagement ring! Since the ring came from my father's mother, she had to check with him first. A few months later during Thanksgiving The Candyman and I met my parents in Asheville, NC, for the long holiday weekend. After touring The Biltmore the evening before, we settled in at a quaint Italian restaurant. My mom pulled her ring out of her purse and presented it to The Candyman for future use. We had it reset to it's present glory.
The wonderfulness of this ring is that it belong to my great-grandmother, grandmother and mother. I am the fourth generation to wear it!