Freedom Ringing!

Or something.  It being MLK Day that title just kind of naturally popped up, but in terms of the actual day I will just refer back to this particular post.

And my husband did fix our bell, so that's ringing again, but that's not what this post is about, either.

No, this post is about actual rings.  Over a year ago my husband lost his wedding ring at the Y.  He's been borrowing one of mine ever since, and I've been wearing a new one.  Periodically I'll ask at the desk if a wedding band has turned up in Lost and Found, and the answer has always been no.  Seeing as the Y is closing soon, I figured I should check one last time.

Pavlov's Children

Our bell came apart this week.  I haven't quite figured out a way to repair it, but it's weird not having a bell.

When we lived in our first house across the street it was about half the size and sound traveled in it a little too well.  If I called up the stairs to get the kids down for meals that worked fine.

In the current house, not so much.  It's bigger and the doors are thicker, and even though creaks and thumps carry from floor to floor, I quickly found out if the kids were in their rooms they would never hear me from the kitchen.  To call them to meals I had to walk to the other side of the house and scream up the stairs, and often that wasn't enough and I'd have to go all the way up.

But the sound of the bell carries!  We have a glass bell with a tractor engraved on it that a cousin gave us years ago that is nice and loud without being obnoxious.  I explained to the kids when meals were ready I would ring the bell.