Minnesota Seashells

Last evening one of my lake neighbors showed me some rocks he had 'tumbled' for his grandchildren.  He's a gentleman of many interests and abilities.  He's also a great grandpa. He let each child pick a few rocks from the lake.  After he polishes them in the tumbler, he will give them back.  Minnesota seashells, I call them. Before he has finished, he will teach the kids a little geology and heaven knows what else.

Since he offered to polish a few for me, I took some time to go lay, belly down, on the dock next to the shallow water.  The rocky bottom on our side of the lake makes it a good idea to learn to jump off the end of the dock at an early age.  It also makes it fun to walk (carefully) along the edge and pick up whatever rock catches your eye.  For years, our kids would bring rocks up to the cabin to be displayed during our vacation.  By the next year, they usually dumped the pile back because they had found 'better' ones.  When the water is so clear that you can see all the rocks or take a photograph through it, you know you have found a great spot.

Funny though, I think one of our vacation treasures are our good lake neighbors.  We always make time for dinner together and our kids have grown up enjoying the conversation of several generations of folks.  It replaces those Sunday dinners no one has anymore.  The ones where you both squirmed to leave but also listened to the family stories that were repeated over and over.  Those stories are a little like the rocks that get polished until they become small treasures you can put in your pocket and carry around to remind you of your summers long ago.