Location: Chanhassen, MN (a.k.a: The bachelor pad)
Author: Keri (aka: KinnicChick)
Listening to Colin Hay, which totally sweeps me back to high school and my very first real boyfriend. He took me to my first real concert: Men at Work. We double dated with another totally awesome couple that also happened to be my boyfriend’s age. All of them had just graduated that year and I had just completed my sophomore year of high school. I felt pretty cool to be running with this older crowd... pretty sophisticated.
Anyway, that has nothing to do with what I was going to post this time. This post is about the day I had on Tuesday this week. It was planned several weeks ago when Mystical and I realized that I would have finished the main part of moving into the new town home and she would have the day off and there wouldn’t be any real schedule conflicts for either of us. I told her one day that I was in the mood to go rock picking again. She and I rather enjoy this little hobby (hobby? Yeah, I guess...) a bit and I don’t think either of us got enough of it during our trip west earlier this year. So we decided to head north a bit this week on Tuesday.
I made no other arrangements for that day and even though the weather was sounding a wee bit warm (understatement of this entire 24-hour blogathon), we plunged forth into the tropical and dangerous day.
We traveled to a little town north of the cities which is the self-professed agate-capital of... the state? The country? I’m not sure. But it is the capital of something. And we were hunting agates. So that’s where we went. But not before making a stop or two... for coffee. For gasoline. For water. For bug spray. For a state park pass and map. We tried to combine all of these stops in one or two. Really we did. But things happen. Memories aren’t what they used to be. And so it took us a little while to get there. And the first place we stopped we were told to continue on because we wouldn’t have the best luck there. And so we did continue on.
Mystical didn’t send me any photos (scrambles over to MM’s flickr site to see if any were posted there) that she took because she actually got some from the first search location. I did not. I only took them at the second stop where the very best agate I found was located the second I opened the car door and was right under the car. Oh there were others, but they weren’t nearly as big (that one was about an inch across).
I haven’t taken a photo of the dish of agates I took home with me. HBB and I rinsed them off and looked at them in the sunshine the other evening. I need to get them over and look at them with Mystical too. Because that day? All we thought about after we hunted them down in the sun and the heat was getting home to a shower and a tall, cold drink and the air conditioning.
It really was a bit dangerous out there. The agate picking didn’t take place on a beach or in a streambed. I had been envisioning that just a little bit. sigh Even though I knew that wasn’t really what lay ahead of us. We were in the middle of a gravel pit. Where the sun was even more ruthless than most places. And the reflection of that sun was just beastly. And the wind was nonexistent.
This is us. And you’ll notice that I’m not laden with bags of agates that I’m showing off in the photo. Rather, I’m just showing off the bare ugliness of the gravel pit. Because there is nothing else to share.