Others include:
There is an old saying that "a rolling stone gathers no moss." It seems to fit with the "fresh start" approach many people take with New Year's resolutions. Moss might to grow on you if you sit still too long. So I'm going to get up and do something for myself as this new year begins. I am beginning with the message to myself, "Lighten up!"In a lighter moment not long ago I came across this: "Smile vs Frown: How NOT to be a walking accident" - from a quirky and interesting little website called Happy Brainstorming. I bring this up because one of my resolutions is to find more to smile about in 2008. There are two reasons. I will sleep better, and I will put fewer wrinkles on this elder face. To quote from the website:
It is well known that non verbal communication is very important, as it judges your likeability. But it seems that the most important of all signals pass THROUGH facial expressions. The facial expressions are much more important than any other body language posture.Rolling Rock is the name of a beer. I can't drink alcohol any more because of the medications I take, which is a little sad. A number of their TV commercials crossed over the edge enough to offend a few people and were banned. Rolling Rock has a website that requires you to be at least 21 years of age. I am old enough to go through its "Age Gate", but I won't. But I will say that there's nothing like a cold Tecate beer with a Texas barbecue sandwich on a hot summer day!
I collect rocks -- all kinds of rocks. Rocks are heavy. Though not the best thing to take on an airplane in large numbers, rocks make wonderful trip souvenirs. I have tumbled river rocks from high mountain streams in Colorado and Wyoming. I have a chunk of pink granite from a road work site where my brother worked. I have a plate of small polished rocks with a beautiful candle in the middle. I have a collection of beautiful fossils under the glass top of our coffee table. I have a big shell fossil as a doorstop for my front door. Our Texas Sage is in a bed that has a base of round river rocks. We collected flagstones from the building site of our current house, making them into flagstone walks to our tiny back yard. That was the year I learned to "tuck-point" concrete. Ah, those were the days!
Happy New Year, everybody!
Cross-posted at Southwest Blogger
My topical post today at South by Southwest and The Reaction is about civil liberties.
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2 comments:
Rocks. I call them Grandfathers. From my teachings, I am told and I accept the concept that all rocks have been around a long long time. They have seen all of what man has done throughout history. They have all the knowledge. They are our ancestors.
What makes me walk along and look at the ground? What makes my eyes stop and look at a rock? Why do I just look at some and pick others up and hold them in my hand? Why do I put some into my pocket and others cast back to the ground?
I take them home. I save them. I put them in boxes, in containers, in baggies. I move a lot, I have been moving boxes and containers and baggies full of rocks for years.
The last place I moved in to, a cabin on the South shore of the Great Lake Superior, a place itself a plethora of Grandmothers and Grandfathers, I took the containers and emptied them out onto makeshift tables. Now, these rocks are seen daily and back in the weather again. People who visit stop and look. They pick some up and hold them in their hands. I give them away to visitors. I have added wood to this pile of rocks.
I can go on and on about this and hope to do so with you someday. This is a great post. I love the work you did with the categories and labels. Wish you could come over and identify many of my collection. But even if you did, they would still be the Grandfathers and Grandmothers, but they would have names.
Peace to All
Howdy, Joe. How very interesting to learn of your life with rocks. Your Grandfathers have been lucky to find homes with you and perhaps on, then, with other rock hounds.
I gave away some, too, when I was doing counseling work. I has inch-size polished stones that sometimes went home with clients who needed an anchor or talisman to help them to remember how to calm themselves. Good medicine, I guess.
Among my favorite stones are the ones at camp sites that have some age. I think each gathering around that campfire left a bit of good will for the next weary or chilly camper.
I, too, could go on and on. Thanks for for your kind words and for stopping by. You're welcome anytime.
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