Friday, July 27, 2012

Leaves and Goose Droppings

 I was walking outside today at what normally would have been lunchtime for me, but was pre-lunchtime today since my official 25th company service anniversary luncheon was scheduled later. Puddles from the rain were still in low spots on the driveway, and it was oppressively humid and blazingly hot. Since I didn't want to get too sweaty before the hug-fest ahead, I decided to stick close to the building and keep the walk brief. Staying close to the building equals "constant peril" for pedestrians, due to the flock of Canadian geese that abundantly festoons our sidewalks with their personal gifts. Dodging the droppings requires looking quite closely at the ground as one walks. Funny what you notice while paying attention to places you don't usually look. I noticed that the post-storm, fallen leaves on the sidewalk seemed to be framed like pictures by ovals of water on the cement. It reminded me of old, framed silhouettes of Victorian ladies, and of cameo brooches. Why the antique association? I realized that all of the leaves surrounded by their hydrous frames were older, already brown or on their way to it, autumn infringing upon them, creating a sepia tone I associate with distinguished old photos. They lay smoothly
and serenely within their aquatic cameos. However, those leaves that were still green, yet just as eagerly torn from their branches by the earlier winds, were unframed. They did not draw the moisture into themselves or attract it to their orb, but adorned themselves with sunshine-sparkled jewels of rain. Unlike the others, these leaves were not serenely clinging to the pavement, but still rustling, ready to flutter into the wind should the right gust present itself.

In my reflective mood, looking backward and forward at my career, I found many parallels to life, knowledge, wisdom, and relationships with others, and what all of that means within the framework of a diverse workforce.

What do you make of these observations? I'd love to know.

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Burglarized in Cleveland's Western Suburbs

My house has been burglarized. My jewelry and my children's jewelry is gone. The part that kills me is that so many of the items had stories, and I was keeping them for my children. The worst loss is my late husband's wedding band. It looks like this, only it was two-tone yellow and white gold woven together:
I also lost the necklace my husband gave to me on the first Valentine's Day after we got engaged. It was a shorter length flat gold chain that came down to a point, like a chevron. Near the point, three strands of the flat chain were fused together to give it more substance, and a tiny gold heart was molded into the gold at the point.

Also gone are mementos of our travels:

From Egypt, an 18-carat gold cartouche, solid, with "Michelle" in hieroglyphics. It was on a heavy gold chain. The cartouche was vertical, but the hieroglyphics look like this:
Also, an 18-carat gold ankh pendant, maybe 3/4 inch tall. An ankh looks like this, only mine was a little pointier and was on a chain that looked like little gold balls:

From Italy, both on a gold chain, an 18-carat gold Italian horn, maybe an inch long, and an 18-carat gold Trinacria, also maybe an inch. A Trinacria looks like this:

From Greece, a Greek key design 18 -carat gold ring, size 6-ish, and 7" bracelet, both with hollow spaces within the design and about 1/8 inch in width. A Greek key design looks like this:

Finally, in addition to other gold necklaces and an antique cameo pin, my children's three small 14-carat gold miraculous medals on chains that were their baptismal gifts are gone.

Lots of other jewelry is gone, too, but these hold particular sentimental value, especially my late husband's ring. If anyone in the Cleveland, Ohio area noticed these fairly unique pieces in a pawn shop or resale shop or some other place that jewelry is sold, please comment and let me know. 

I am broken-hearted. These pieces were tied to very special memories of my late husband, who died from cancer much too young, and our life together. There were things I was saving for our young children. This was such a cruel crime.

Please help if you can. I am a very forgiving person. I just want my mementos back.