Welcome to a Pocket Full of Stones

It started when I was just a wee one. My fascination with rocks that is. At the time, all I could say was just that I liked them. There were always rocks in my pockets. And when they filled up, I would stash my collection around the house, in piles. My mom tells stories about finding my treasures under tables and behind chairs. Bless her poor vacuum cleaner. When I was about 10, we took a family vacation and drove across country stopping at each and every state boarder so that I could scramble out of the car and select a rock from beside the road. My parents understood my love.

Through out my life, I have cherished, collected, loved and admired rocks. Heck, I even married a guy because he was willing to fill his pockets with my rock finds when mine were full. Well, that's not the only reason I married him.

Today rocks grace the corners of my home. Their variety, color, texture, even their smell captivates me. I carry them around, often in my purse or a pocket. And I wear them on my body. For me, rocks and jewelry made of rock is like medicine. Soothing, enriching to my soul. Rocks are the wisdom of the earth in beautiful packages. Keepers of the stories of all beings. In my tradition, we think of rocks as Grandfathers.

Pocket Full of Stones is a collection of my life stories for now and the generations to come. So welcome. I hope you'll visit often and add your voice to the comments section.