Grave Concerns
Ya’ll are awesome. You really are. You answer my questions and give me yarn tips and read my ramblings and make my socks. Generally speaking, you are a wise and helpful bunch. But some among you have recently caused me to have some grave concerns.
You seem unnaturally interested in the stick I dragged home from some far-flung beach. I have come to terms with my odd fascination with rocks and sticks. It’s a long-standing affliction. The trunk of The Boy’s car usually has a few finds rattling around it. I expect better from you though.
You’ve asked for pictures. Do you have any idea how hard it is to take a decent picture of a stick? Really, without some sort of atmospheric backdrop, pictures of sticks aren’t all that interesting. This was the best I could do. The whole thing is just under two feet long, and the main part is about 5 inches across. That arm sticks up about 8 inches. The rock at the end is bigger than a soda can. There are about a dozen little rocks wedged in various spots all over the stick.
Upon arriving home, the stick was treated to a lengthy bake in the oven (to kill any wood-eating critters that may have stowed away in his crevices). It now adorns one of the bookcases in my living room. I’m considering naming it the household mascot and judging all future visitors to the house by whether they are smitten with or horrified by the stick.
It has also been brought to my attention that the stick may not actually be a stick. It could be a root. I’m not at all sure how you tell a stick from a root. I also find the word stick ever so much more satisfying to say, so I’m going to continue to call it so, comfortable in the knowledge that I could be totally wrong.
This is NOT a stick. This is a totem…a magical object. No question about it. And I know it’s going to inspire something rather outrageously wonderful in your fertile brain. You know, there is a book called NOT A STICK. I might just have to send it to you.
This made me laugh, my mom is/was always wanting to drag home sticks, rocks, boulders from vacations and road trips. I will never forget our trip to Yellowstone when I was a little girl. We had an RV, and on the way home, no one could use the tiny bathroom, because crammed into it was a large tree stump. smile…
That’s really quite a fabulous stick…er… root…er…
I love the way the rocks adhere to it. A very yummy stick. Umhmm. Why should you be the only one to love it?
Wow…that is one amazing stick/root…and I agree it is totally magical. Love the rock on the end of it. I also collect rocks and sticks and also feathers. So much more interesting that store bought dust catchers.