Day 4 of my 30-day blog challenge. Happy Fourth of July! (Unless you are a veteran who suffers from PTSD, in which case, enjoy your movie marathon and going to bed early.) No special topic today; the husband and I are in the mountains for the weekend, and I wanted to share the brief yet suspenseful tale of the One Ring.

No...not that ring! I'm talking about my husband's wedding band. We were out here snowshoeing around the New Year, and my husband had recently lost a good bit of weight, so his ring didn't fit him very well. We stopped at a warming hut, and my husband proceeded to remove his gloves to put his snowshoes on. Shortly thereafter, he realized his ring was missing! We think it came off with the glove, then fell into the snow.

We hunted for quite a while, losing precious winter daylight digging through the snowdrifts and thinking of all the odd places it could have landed. Several people came by and inquired; most offered sympathy at our predicament. One gentleman mentioned that his friend had lost her engagement ring off of a chair lift, then came back in the spring after the snow melted and found it. Aha! Perhaps that was the right strategy. After quite a bit of unfruitful searching, we went on our snowy way, heartsick that we might not see his ring again.

Fast forward six months...the snow has melted, the Aspens on the mountainside are full and green, and WE FOUND IT! It was sitting right underneath where my husband removed his glove so many months ago. No digging or hunting required; there it was. Needless to say, we are going straight to the jeweler's to get sizing beads put on so this never happens again!

Sure, we could have gotten it replaced, since we have an insurance policy on our wedding/engagement rings, but it wouldn't have been that ring. The one I put on his finger when we got married 3 1/2 years ago. So huzzah!