Rock my world
Just this past weekend Miss Trixie drug Ol’ Dutch to the annual Creede Colorado Rock and Mineral show to look at the pretty rocks. And it's not like I am not interested but I have a pretty good collection of said specimens myself and so tramping up and down the aisles and having to talk to people is kind of a stretch for this old man. Oh, I don't mind once I get there and actually, I found some great people this time to talk to, so it was definitely a win in the end. But I think Ol’ Dutch is more like an old water pump these days that takes a little bit of priming to get me started.
But once you do, I am good to go, and I guess Miss Trixie knows this by now and drags me along to all kinds of social events which I end up enjoying. Once at the rock show I met Ken from Creede who has an impressive rock collection and old photos for sale. If you have not met him, you can look him up down beside the visitors center in Creede to see what all he has for sale.
And Miss Trixie, ever the planner for the future, scored a nice Amethyst rock from Ken for Grand #2 for Christmas. This 9-year-old child has somehow inherited her ancestors' penchant for rocks, and I look for her to maybe becoming a geologist someday, hopefully. So, we perused all the vendors there and saw some wonderful displays of the earth’s amazing past. Crystals of every shape and size and color graced each booth and what a wonder they are to see too. After I finally got past the “do I really want to be here” stage, Miss Trixie had a hard time dragging me away from there.
I have often been amazed that a mere man can pick up a rock from the ground and hold it in his hand knowing it took many many millions of years to form. What an amazing thing to even contemplate but I think it's a lot like space in that our minds can never really grasp the miraculous nature of such things.
Ol’ Dutch comes from a long line of rockhounds and many a summer was spent traipsing across Hell’s half acre looking for gems, petrified wood, agate, arrow heads, quartz, crystals, and other rocks. I recall early on suffering from a sore neck from looking down all day and my grandmother and great aunt breaking out the Icy Hot balm in the evening. They would apply copious amounts all over their tired old bodies and the smell would permeate the cabin the rest of the evening as we played solitaire together. That was ingrained in me so firmly that now all I have to do is get a whiff of that miracle salve and I am instantly taken back to those days, and I don't miss them nearly as much. I can simply close my eyes and be transported back to that old cabin on the river and the sounds of laughter as they win at double solitaire once again.
So, I did survive the weekend of activities once again and came to a realization about myself too. And that is if not for Miss Trixie shoving me along, I probably would be happy to sit at home and rot.
So, if you are out and about anywhere near where we abide and see long drag marks in the dirt, you will know that Trixie has drug Ol’ Dutch along to another social event, rock show, bingo, party, potluck, grand opening, free hot dogs, Amish Bakery, parade, or other event of her choosing. And be careful as you approach said doings as there will be lots of other ruts from the other men who have been dragged there by wives, girlfriends, sisters, friends, and cousins. You don't want to get into a rut.