I love rocks.
When I was little, we went to the beach every day of the summer. It was quite hot outside and we did not have air conditioning. So, into the shade on a grassy patch beside the sand we would set up every morning around 10 and we would leave after fire-grilling dinner and eating it there on the beach, somewhere around 7pm.
I clearly remember laying on my belly on my towel and scooping away the dry sand in front of my nose. I looked intently at all the beautiful rocks in front of me, moving each one carefully with a stem of grass. These tiny rocks were, in fact, sand.
Over the years, my collection has grown and my love of searching through pebbles to find those beautiful stones has not lessened.
My amazing husband bought me a rock tumbler and now I polish the rocks I have collected over the years.
Being sorted into “needs more grit” and “ready for pre-polish”.
The rock tumbler, where all the “magic” happens.
My dining table centerpiece - one of two vases full of rocks and shells.
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