So Ryland has decided he wants to be a Rockhound. He’s been telling us how much he loves rocks for about a year now. His room has about as many rocks as Lego people scattered on every surface. But about a month ago there must have been a geology lesson in his 3rd grade class because he’s been passionate about rocks ever since. He asked if he could join a rockhound club. Wanted to know if I’d take him to look for rocks on a mountain, and if he could have one of the pick tools to break the rocks apart with. I did the only thing a tired, barely getting over a virus working mom could do, I googled kids geology clubs in the area. That turned up nothing. I tried kids rock clubs. Nothing. Kids rockhounding? Nada. So I suggested he start his own rock club. His eyes lit up and he started scheming. I offered to let him start his own rockhounding blog. He was jumping up and down with yes’s. So ARockHoundKid is born.
The Music Man dad asked Ryland what he was going to do when the kids started coming to his rock club.
“I don’t know. I don’t have anything to do but look at rocks!” He answered emphatically as though to say, “Duh! What else is there to do in a rock club dad?”
So if you’re in the neighborhood, keep your eye open. You just might see a boy or two out there in my driveway, hunched over rocks, pounding them with hammers and lining them up in neat rows. And if Ryland has his way, there will be a sign that says:
Rockhound Kid Club meets here. Rocks for sale. Geodes five dollars.
We’ll see how it goes.
In the mean time, Connor is anticipating starting Majors and trying to trust his parents that his current 4th grade stresses will pass. I think he’s got a lot of pressure to perform. I wish I could take that away from him. I’m almost 40 and I’m still trying to turn myself from the self-centered path of performing for others’ approval. I’m trying to at least help him during this time to see that he doesn’t need to impress me, he just needs to do hard work and listen. I’m concerned for him. Like Solomon prayed, I’m praying for wisdom to make right judgments. I wish I could wave pixy dust over him and all would be well. But that’s just now how it works. And so I present my requests with thanksgiving and beyond understanding there’s a visceral assurance inside that says Connor’s heilsgeschichte is being worked out even now. Even in this.
My food blog is fast becoming a pumpkin bread blog. I just scrolled back and realized I have three different pumpkin bread or muffin posts. I like pumpkin. I like it better in a bread than in a pie. I’ve also discovered I like custard. Custard is a refined person’s desert. When I was a newly married 19 year old working as a live-in health aide for a wealthy family in Scottsdale four days a week, the 80 year old woman I cared for taught me how to make custard. It was her favorite breakfast. I didn’t think much of it when I tasted it back then at 19. My palate was more suited to Whoppers and Snickers bars in those days. But the other day I made a custard using coconut milk, egg yokes, honey, vanilla and nutmeg. All I can say is I guess my palate is a little more refined than it was 19 years ago cause custard is creamy deliciousness.