by Karen Cyson

OK, I’ll admit it. I have a lot of jewelry. Not that there is ever such a thing as too much. No! And not that all of it is valuable. No, no, no.

Take, for example, my rather large pair of faux-gold hoop earrings. I acquired these about 14 years ago when SuperSon visited a neighbor’s garage sale. He hurried home to find a quarter "somewhere" in his room, then ran to the sale and came back to present me with these beauties. They aren’t valuable, but they are priceless! I keep them in my jewelry box right alongside the "real" stuff.

Two more dresser drawers are filled with the "other’" jewelry, this being garage sale, antique store, craft fair, and museum shop acquisitions.

"Heritage" bling is yet another category that requires two subsections: the "good stuff," e.g., my grandmother’s Norwegian wedding jewelry, and the "not so good stuff," e.g., the poison ring I bought with my babysitting money and which I thought looked pretty snappy with my leatherette vest and miniskirt outfit in the eighth grade.

Now my secret is out. I have, it’s true, just about every piece of jewelry I’ve ever owned. Except for losing one of two pair of diamond studs, and losing a stone out of a bracelet, it’s all here. Somewhere.

I realize it seems excessive to have (had) two pair of diamond studs. I can only wear one pair at a time anyway, as I have merely one piercing in each ear and certainly no other body part is going to be so bejeweled. (!) But I can explain. The first pair was a high school graduation gift from my parents. The second pair was given to me by someone else. I saw no point in exclaiming, "but I already have a pair of these," so as not to discourage a propensity for jewelry-giving in the above-mentioned individual.

The bracelet was a prize from Neiman Marcus. When NM first opened their Minneapolis store they sent out prize-drawing forms to known customers (of which I was one) and only we were allowed to enter the contests and only if we visited the store during the grand opening. I assumed that the odds would be in my favor, and they were. I won a large decorative jar of Escada body creme and the bracelet. The bracelet was (and still is) a wide black enameled cuff embedded with large rhinestones. A bit flashy, even for me, and not an item to be worn with just anything, but, hey, it supposedly was worth several hundred dollars, so I did wear it once. And promptly lost one of the jewels.

Other than these two instances, my track record for trinket retention was unblemished until this fall. Now, those of you with anywhere near my affinity for adornment (women, I trust) know the difficulty of finding autumn-theme earrings. Oh, it’s easy to find Halloween theme earrings. The stores, fine and funky, are filled with spinning counter racks loaded with ghosts and witches and jack-o-lanterns. They glow in the dark, they blink, they even emit holiday-appropriate howls. But what am I supposed to wear in September and November?

This problem was solved when I found, in a "your choice — 25 cents each" basket at an estate sale, a pair of copper maple-leaf earrings. Perfect! I promptly lost one the day before Thanksgiving. How could this be?

Shortly thereafter, still reeling from that loss, I lost one of a pair of tiny holly enameled post earrings. They were my one and only pair of nongaudy Christmas earrings, rather mundane looking next to the glitter snowflakes and the rhinestone tannenbaums and the foil wrapped gift boxes. They were seasonal but subtle. I accidentally fell asleep wearing two and woke up wearing one. Searches high (on bed) and low (under bed) failed to produce that little sprig. Phooey.

Not good. Not good at all.

A week later I slid my foot into my slippers and felt a sharp stab in my arch. There was the missing maple leaf. Hmmm. I have no explanation.

Two weeks after this finding, I spotted what I thought was a errant piece of tinsel on the kitchen floor. It was the post of an upside-down holly earring. This was more like it.

Three days later I felt something scratching me in an area where no scratching should occur. I thought perhaps I’d left one of those annoying little plastic price tag thingies on my bra. But no. Inside the lining was the holly earring back. Don’t ask. I have no idea how this happened.

Then, last week, I was carelessly removing my "default" earrings (lapis studs that I love and that go with everything) while walking down the hallway to my bedroom. In the dark. Sure ‘nuf, I dropped one. Well, this would not do. The first lump I found seemed to be under the carpet. Odd. Then much to my relief, I found my "go to" earring. Whew!

I also knew I’d never sleep until I knew what was under the rug, so I carefully peeled back this last remaining section of ugly foam-backed ‘70s-era shag (it’s leaving in the spring!), and there was the missing paste gem from the Neiman Marcus bracelet. Not being willing to let it get away again after being AWOL for more than 12 years, I immediately got out my tube of Aileen’s Platinum Bond Glass & Bead Adhesive and promptly put that bit of silica in its place literally and verbally. I slept ever so soundly that night.

The following morning I resolved to fervently not look for the missing diamonds. Looking hadn’t worked in more than 20 years. Not looking had solved all the other lost ice problems.

This morning, out of curiosity as much as for any other reason, I opened my "fancy stuff" drawer. Every girl needs a place to store opera gloves, beaded evening bags, lace hankies, and lipstick cases. This drawer is mine.

I proceeded to lift the lid on my hankie box. Yes, I do have one. No, I don’t really know why.

One by one I removed the hankies just to look at them. Lace. Linen. Lawn. Fancy. Plain. Frippery, really, but, as my dad would’ve said, "they aren’t eating any hay."

And there, in the bottom of the box, was my pair of diamond stud earrings.

Eureka!