tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6276651905744192165.post3451761265256505766..comments2014-09-01T05:30:33.820-05:00Comments on MAKING GOOD MONDAYS: All about rocksCarol Geehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01477201611599486930noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6276651905744192165.post-2857652249597837902008-01-05T16:10:00.000-06:002008-01-05T16:10:00.000-06:00Howdy, Joe. How very interesting to learn of your...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.<BR/>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.<BR/>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.<BR/>I, too, could go on and on. Thanks for for your kind words and for stopping by. You're welcome anytime.Carol Geehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01477201611599486930noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6276651905744192165.post-68874361038111933202008-01-04T17:24:00.000-06:002008-01-04T17:24:00.000-06:00Rocks. I call them Grandfathers. From my teachings...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. <BR/><BR/>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?<BR/><BR/>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.<BR/><BR/>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.<BR/><BR/>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.<BR/><BR/>Peace to AllSpadomanhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17781369901345409341noreply@blogger.com