As promised ode to rocks...

As promised Ode to Rocks

Thinking about the Rock in Ann Arbor.

 On its own it was a pretty cool big rock.  But through the years it has become so much more.

It is covered with layers of paint.  So many events and reasons that people paint the rock.

Like brains are apt to do, mine made a connection between the rock and my blog (note my mind also connected my work to Michelangelo’s so it has an uncanny to bridge and connect things that would seem impossible to bridge). 

So I was thinking a blog kind of starts off like the rock in Ann Arbor, cool for its own merit but just a rock or idea at first. 

Each layer of paint on the rock tells a story, shares memories, and affects the viewers. 

It has become a legend because of those layers, even though some layers were downright ugly:

whereas others were incredibly beautiful:

I see my blog with each article being a layer of paint, not impressive on its own for the most part, but with each layer a little more value is created, it becomes something greater than what it started. Each article is like a layer of paint. 

Together those articles become something much greater than the rock.  Each layer has a story.  Some layers might be a little lame, but have an awesome story behind it, create an amazing memory, or change the writer/painter in some way...

So like giving a mouse a cookie, if you give Karen a blog, she’s going to want to write about rocks and if she starts writing about rocks she’s is going to talk about rock camp.

So one time at Rock Camp… (yeah that’s right I did go to rock camp)

As a child, we would go on family walks.  A few blocks away there was a rock.  What we used to call the big rock.

I loved that big rock.  I would stand on it and imagine things and feel

Interesting how when I see that big rock, how small it looks.  I try to imagine how I saw it with such wonder.

 

 

 

 

 

It’s crazy how awareness and perspective change.  How easy it is to lose that sense of wonder.

My perhaps alltime favorite movie character: The Rockman 

Because of his kindness, and his vulnerability, and of course his big strong hands. “These looked like such bring strong hands.

As they would say in Tonga, fakaofa, fakaofa aupitoL

Note: Hidden agenda: making my blogs overly flowery so guest bloggers will be forced to volunteer awesome content to make me stop.

Bab’s Corner

Literal v. Figurative I absolutely love overhearing someone use literally blatantly wrong over and over.

Not a judgey person, at least I hope not, but that always makes me laugh and become a little smug (although I have no room to be smug due to my background where phrases like “I says to the guy” were acceptable. And an inability to appropriately determine if I’m doing good or well ((I do know good is an adjective and if I logically think about it I can get there, but it takes a while and I appear even slower if I cannot respond to a how are you within a minute…) As well as a habit of starting sentences with And, but.

Soooo I discussed some literal rocks and now for a figurative rock.   My mother.  Who is such a lovely strong woman.  She literally is the kindest person I have ever met.  Never speaking poorly about anyone and always caring too much.  I did have an interview and ridiculously answered one of my weaknesses is that I care too much.  It slipped out and is blatantly untrue.  But my mother does care too much.

 She is a kindergarten teacher.  I subbed for her class for one week and literally would have died if I subbed more, it is a heroing job not for the weak!

She recently tore something in her knee that will require surgery.

But she is not a complainer.  She limps from place to place (fakaofa aupito) with a smile on her face.

And on occasion she gets to use a cart.  Bab's at Costco  (Fellow shoppers be warned!)