I have a feeling that my class this semester, my final class for my log-anticipated bachelor’s degree may crush my current use of one of my favorite insults. Only a few humans have earned my use of this insult, more likely it goes toward, say, my old cat who used to electrocute herself repeatedly on the TV antennae for as many times as I could stand to let her, and who once, we suspect, fell in the toilet while trying to investigate why the water wasn’t going round and round and round and-SPLASH. But, I love using this insult, it rolls off the tongue in a not quite, almost rhyme: “dumb as a box of rocks”.
Now that I have started reading my Environmental Geology textbook, I think that insult is actually a compliment. Rocks speak more about our Earthly home than the most loquacious human ever can. They not only speak to us, but they are also smart, they have seen the fires of creation and were born to tell about it.
Sorry I haven’t written for a while. My plate has been full and my heart has fealt as heavy as a box of rocks. Hopefully, I’ll find some more inspiration soon.
I went to the Snow Festival in Frankenmuth yesterday. The vision of these artists is inspirational, as they start with a huge block of snow, and ounce by ounce shave away the frozen crystals to bring to life a gnome or an angel, a cobra or an octopus eating a submarine. The festival runs through this weekend, I encourage you to go and enjoy the beauty.
By the way, I got my port out last week. I'm doing the cancer free happy dance.