We went to see our jeweler today. Ha! That sounds funny, right? Like we are so hoity-toity as to have our own personal jeweler? Actually, she kind of feels like our own personal jeweler. She works out of her home and is a retired buyer for some big company (not Tiffany's or Cartier big, but more like Neiman Marcus big). She runs her business on word of mouth and trust, and judging by the number of appointments she had this afternoon, she's doing just as good as when we last saw her, which was to pick up my wedding ring (nothing exciting, but she had made my engagement ring so it only made sense to order a plain wedding band from her). Her house is modest and looks exactly like a grandmother lives there. But then you see the security system she has and how the basement is like a fortress and you remember that she's probably got a few million in loose gems floating around down there. Oh, and then there's the jaguar in the driveway. Next to the beat up kids toys because someone told her people are less likely to break into a house if it's obvious children are in it.
What makes her super fun is that she's an orthodox Jew. God bless her, I respect her faith and the sacrifices she makes for it - many people in her neighborhood are also Jewish, there's a Yeshiva down the street, a Hebrew day school, the kosher cafe and deli, and of course the neighborhood synagogue all within walking distance since you can't drive on the Sabbath. She wears a wig and reminded Jim today that she couldn't hug him (I got one, though). However, she is still the consummate Jewish Grandmother. She's sweet the one second and then chastising Jim the next for not coming to see her more often to buy me things, and he got quite a guilt trip when she found out he never bought me a present when I gave birth. She'll talk your ear off and wanted to hear all about Natalie, what we've been up to since getting married, yadda yadda yadda - she was so glad to hear I could work from home so I could look after the baby. A friend who used her for an engagement ring was once sent home with chicken soup from her freezer when he came to pick the ring up with a serious head cold.
Anyway, after two years of not fitting, I am FINALLY getting my engagement and wedding rings resized. My little finger went from a 5.5 to a 7! Yikes! No wonder I couldn't even come close to shoving them on any more. And I won't get into why it's taken 2+ years to get them resized - let's just say it has to do with Jim being a shit and wanting me to lose weight first. So...they will be done in about a week and we'll have to bring Natalie with us to pick them up so our jeweler can squeeze her cheeks and maybe cut Jim a deal on a belated push present.