Pocket Full of Rocks

I love rocks. Just ask anyone in my family. Also old barns, but that's not in this post (ok, one thing about barns - I dream of renovating and living in an old barn!).

Collecting, admiring, photographing, and arranging (rearranging) rocks are my thing. I'm the kid on the beach with her britches half way down due to the sheer number of rocks in her pockets. Well, IF we grew up near the beach, that would be me. There were no beaches in Arizona. So we had desert rocks. Rocks are way cooler, interesting, and more dangerous in desert climates. One never knows what is under a desert rock, of course, unless one looks, right? :) Tarantula? Scorpion? Snake? It's like Christmas each time I picked up a rock. Don't tell my mom. She doesn't like snakes or other poisonous things.

I think my rock fetish goes way back to grade school - in the desert. There is not much to do on a dirt playground. Just play with dirt and rocks. So we created elaborate homes, outlined with small rocks. From there, pretend families, friends, and neighbors developed from classmates and other recess kids. When the bell rang, the rocks stayed in place, ready for our next excursion out into the heat.

As an adult I still collect rocks. I have many times enlisted my family and friends to help me haul my favorite finds to the car, and from thence into the garden scheme. I remember one specific camping trip with a college buddy. Rock collecting involved a huge canvas sack, a river, deep water, wet shoes and shorts, and both of us tugging the laden bag to the car, full of prizes. What a friend.

Don't even get me thinking about how OLD the rocks are. My maiden name is Hill. After a certain age, family relatives with the same last name constantly heard the 'old as the hills' comment. I'm thinking rocks are older than hills, since many many hills are made out of rocks...I love old stuff.

I'm don't discriminate against size, color, shape, weight, or location when I am on the hunt. Occasionally, I will look for rocks with one qualifying item. Like at the beach, I look only for rocks with holes or rings of white around them. On mountains, I like rocks with character and lichen. At my sister's place, large and bumpy (and movable) are prerequisites. Over my lifetime, I guess I have gathered and displayed several tons of rocks. I think some of my husband's back issues MAY stem from his willingness to lift the hefty prizes for his stone addled wife. ;0 (See the photo? I want that rock.)

As a teacher and mother, one of my all time favorite activities is, yep, rock collecting and washing. My kids grew up loving to wash rocks using a big plastic tub, water, old toothbrushes, and bar soap. It's amazing how entertained young kids are when they have a stack of dirty river rocks. The rocks ended up either somewhere in the garden or painted and displayed on pieces of furniture. And talk about cheap gifts. Blob on some bright colors, seal with acrylic spray, and voila, a paperweight, napkin holder, objet d'art, birthday gift...

Rocks are such a natural part of landscaping. I use them in planters. I love the way succulents and rocks go together, and the way plants creep over rocks, softening the edges and making them melt into 'been like this forever.' I create ways to make paths, borders, designs, and focal points with rocks. I especially enjoy large rocks with natural dips and holes perfect for water spots. Which leads me to my next favorite pastime, gardening for insects. Insects love natural water holes...

I know I'm not the only one. Rock fiend forever.