It came about quite innocently....
our gargantuan rock collection. In 1992, we visited my
parents in Waretown,
New Jersey. In my efforts occupy our cute as could possibly be, about to turn 1 year old son Tyler, I took his
(then) chubby little hand in mine and we wandered down the road, marvelling at
the sea gulls, the waves and the beautiful boats. On this particular excursion we
were even formally escorted by George, the orange marmalade kitty who had
recently adopted my parents :-) We stopped to enjoy the view of the bay and
spied a small playground near the water's edge. I pushed Tyler on those swings
for what seemed like forever, enjoying his laughter, while George did figure 8's
around my legs. We only used the swings, as the sliding board was much too hot
from the sun. We decided to keep a memento of our afternoon by choosing 2
small rocks, (one for each hand), from the pile of rocks and grasses that
divided the playground from the road. These rocks stayed clutched in each of
Tyler's hands for the rest of the day. They remained in the cup holder of his
stroller for the remainder of our visit and they resided on the dashboard of our
little red truck from that day on.
As years rolled by, we chose a special rock or stone on every single walk we ever took. Which is compounded by the fact that my husband Ted's parents lived back a long stone laneway. And also that my grandparents lived in the middle of 2 long and winding lanes. And that this child loved to choose stones from the neighbors landscaping! And from in front of the shrubbery of the local department stores! And ummm you get the picture.
In 2001 we were blessed with another son. When he first traveled to my parents in New Jersey, he was too young to be interested in rock collecting. His big brother collected shells as well as rocks that year. The next time we visited my parents it was at their new 111 acre farm in Appomattox, Virginia. Where a long and winding lane, covered in white rocks, leads up to their horse barn and their work shop and their home.... I often took Walker for a stroll to see the horses or the dogs, or the chickens and.... You get the picture....
I have shown such joy and have been so suitably impressed by every new rock discovery for so very long.... Walker loves his rocks and crystal and gem collections. As fate would have it, Walker enjoys bringing stones home from every excursion even more than Tyler did! As a matter of fact, our family even formally went rock and gem mining while on vacation a few years ago! And when we collected rocks at my parents a just few years ago, we were again favored with attention from who else but George! (Sweet George's spirit lives on as guardian of the farm and all who enter there).
I have now been a mother of boys for over 21 years. That being said... There are rocks in my pockets, rocks in my purses, rocks in my flower beds, rocks in my my night stand drawers, rocks in all sorts of vases and jars, in dishes, in cupboards, on the piano, the desks and the windowsills and even places where only the delicate crystal should be. There are rocks on bathroom sinks and in velvet bags from museum field trips and they magically appear in the dryer every single time I open the door... and I might even say that my husband would imply there are rocks in my head... ummm scratch that.... He wouldn't imply.... He would outright say it.
Oh, Walker..... why is your back pack so heavy?? You get the picture.....
As years rolled by, we chose a special rock or stone on every single walk we ever took. Which is compounded by the fact that my husband Ted's parents lived back a long stone laneway. And also that my grandparents lived in the middle of 2 long and winding lanes. And that this child loved to choose stones from the neighbors landscaping! And from in front of the shrubbery of the local department stores! And ummm you get the picture.
In 2001 we were blessed with another son. When he first traveled to my parents in New Jersey, he was too young to be interested in rock collecting. His big brother collected shells as well as rocks that year. The next time we visited my parents it was at their new 111 acre farm in Appomattox, Virginia. Where a long and winding lane, covered in white rocks, leads up to their horse barn and their work shop and their home.... I often took Walker for a stroll to see the horses or the dogs, or the chickens and.... You get the picture....
I have shown such joy and have been so suitably impressed by every new rock discovery for so very long.... Walker loves his rocks and crystal and gem collections. As fate would have it, Walker enjoys bringing stones home from every excursion even more than Tyler did! As a matter of fact, our family even formally went rock and gem mining while on vacation a few years ago! And when we collected rocks at my parents a just few years ago, we were again favored with attention from who else but George! (Sweet George's spirit lives on as guardian of the farm and all who enter there).
I have now been a mother of boys for over 21 years. That being said... There are rocks in my pockets, rocks in my purses, rocks in my flower beds, rocks in my my night stand drawers, rocks in all sorts of vases and jars, in dishes, in cupboards, on the piano, the desks and the windowsills and even places where only the delicate crystal should be. There are rocks on bathroom sinks and in velvet bags from museum field trips and they magically appear in the dryer every single time I open the door... and I might even say that my husband would imply there are rocks in my head... ummm scratch that.... He wouldn't imply.... He would outright say it.
Oh, Walker..... why is your back pack so heavy?? You get the picture.....
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