Rock Party, Day 1

Friday, I went to the Huntsville Gem and Mineral Society's annual show with my daughter. It made as much of an impression on a toddler as you might expect-- none. She's too young to get excited by pretty rocks. At her age, ALL rocks are pretty, even ones covered in paving tar.

Me? I liked sparkly granite gravel as a kid. Besides being shiny, rocks tell a geological history. I'm a pitiful rock-hound, however. I don't go hunting and I'm sadly uneducated about what is which. I only remember what I learned in science class. I ought to study it, so I can share my collection with my kids: the specimens from my junior chemistry set; polished tiger-eye & other stones from my grandfather; a pyrite spike; petrified wood left by a previous resident; a "paint pot" collected on a Smith Lake slue.

I wanted to enjoy the beautiful weather, so I parked in a metered space by Big Spring Park. After I unloaded the girl into her stroller, I discovered this meter didn't work. No way I wanted a $15 parking fine, even if it was the city's fault, so I saw I could pull forward to another space. I didn't want to reload DLG for a mere 30 feet, so I rolled her up the sidewalk and put the stroller brake on before getting back in the car. I took my purse with me, but not the girl. (A miscreant could sprint away with the bag, but wouldn't get far with a ton of baby metal and Miss Spitfire.) For a moment I was afraid that meter #2 was a dud after it ignored my first 35¢, but it did work. The gentleman I warned off of the dud meter was concerned, too, and was ready with some more change.

Turns out the gentleman was also headed to the show. His son had recently moved out, so he had started getting involved with the local rock club and helped set up the Boy Scout stations last night. We walked over to the South Hall together, taking the "overland" route, instead of going under the Big Spring bridge. He surprised me by paying my $2 entrance fee when he paid his own. Wow, I sometimes forget just how nice people here in Huntsville are.

DLG got a "dinosaur egg," which she proclaimed her "favorite toy." Around all of the exhibits, she'd talk to the tiny woolly mammoth she found inside. She'd also play, "Mommy, where's my toy?" as she'd misplace it, either by genuine accident or by actually hiding it. As I said, she wasn't too impressed by the exhibitors, but anything Mommy touched, she wanted to touch, too. (Now I know why my own mom didn't like to go shopping with me.) We visited the educational stations. I tilted the stroller into the blacked out display featuring the minerals fluorescing under black light. I let her out of the stroller to touch some fossils and to make crayons rubbings from dinosaurs on plastic relief sheets.

She was interested in the yummy concession smells, so I bought a pretzel. The gentleman we walked in with came along not long after to buy his own pretzel, and we discussed just how close we came to winning a door prize, since #172 won and our tickets were #173 & #174. If only we hadn't dithered about the route to the South Hall, he commented. I noted that the silver earrings the winner chose weren't quite his style, but maybe they were his wife's style, which was good for a giggle before the pretzels toasted. He asked if I'd gotten it already, but since the twist was just arriving, I think he would have paid for our pretzel if I hadn't already. (Come to think of it, only I giggled at the "wife" comment. Yikes! I think I was flirted with!)

I browsed with only two plans: find a worry-stone for my son and buy
myself something more than $1 and less than $100. I don't often give myself that much financial latitude. I peered at serpentine jade vases and Chinese stalactites; various forms of ruby, garnet, emerald and tourmaline tempted me. I decided against decorative pieces and mineral specimens-- my kids are still too curious of a threat to my "nice" things. As I was taking a closer look at some earrings, the vendor chided another browser, "You better not use that gem bowl as an ashtray!" meaning the larger polished opaque pieces carved with indentations. I told her I was looking for a smaller one for my son, who needed a way to get his fidgets out. She pulled a couple of things just like that from under her table, and outright gave me one! That made up my mind.
The earrings are fluoride cut in a "crystal" prism, and their shading is similar to tourmaline, but paler and less polarized (and more affordable.) Earring pair was cut from the same mother, so the gems were identical. With polarized coloring and a less vibrant green, my pair almost passes for tourmaline.

Alas, the time to get my son from school was rapidly approaching; we left the show with enough time for a turn around the park to enjoy the day (and the ducks, geese and koi.) We still had some pretzel crumbs left, so we stood on the Japanese bridge to watch the koi boil in a feeding frenzy. When the my rubbing flew out of the stroller basket and into the lake, I secured DLG's two under her backpack and my purse. My PURSE! It wasn't THERE!

We raced back to the South Hall, me muttering all the way. I couldn't believe my purse was gone!!! How could I have been so careless??? I didn't take it out; my keys and all my money was in my pocket. I don't remember it falling out; it would have hit me in the shin. Could I have left it on a vendor table? Where? When?

Out of breath, I asked everyone if a purse had been turned in. Rock-hounds are a family and stick together. I was incredulous that my purse could actually have been stolen, but it was a very real possibility. People looked, Boy Scouts scouted, the security woman checked the bathrooms & inquired about surveillance-tape policy. I made a loop around the hall to check with vendors and to peer in trashcans and under table skirts. A kind lady let me call my husband so he could start cancelling our cards and lock the cell phone. Everyone was helpful and sympathetic. They reassured me and encouraged me to pray to my angels for guidance. They asked if I'd left it in the car, but I was certain, no, since unloading a stroller is quite a chore. But.... I thought I'd check anyways, except.... I could get there quicker if I didn't have the stroller...

The security woman offered to keep DLG with her while I ran over; I trusted her-- she regularly worked the Playhouse when I ushered. I loped back to my car. The whole way I vaguely prayed to Sts. Anthony & Jude, but I mostly tried to figure out what I'd miss of my mere THINGS. I'd miss the kids' photos and various trinkets given by friends. Money, phone and cards can be replaced, but once the touchstones are gone, you have to pray that memory holds.

There it was! Sitting bold & sassy on my front seat and in plain sight of everyone! I hugged it with grateful prayers. I then felt silly for leaving it behind when I got out of my car the SECOND time, but still relying on my memories of the FIRST exit. I also felt silly for hugging it.

I returned (as fast as I could, puff-puff-wheeze,) so everyone could rejoice with me over my found purse. I met the event coordinator at the door as he was stepping outside to look. I waved it over my head as another security woman was conferring with housekeeping staff. I admitted I felt silly to the phone lady's husband ("Don't be; I spent half of yesterday looking for my glasses only to find them on my face.") I danced into the hall with a triumphant shout. "Mommy has her purse again!" (This from DLG.)

Now I sat down. Phew! As usual, I'd let my cell phone lose charge, so the security woman let me call Scott on hers. He'd only had time to cancel one card. Praise be to God in all things! After a good breather, I resumed our stroll, my trust in our city's goodness unshaken.

An enjoyable day and I learned about more than just rocks. 1) Rock-hounds are some of the nicest people I've met. 2) I should wear a belly-pack when I take the boy on Saturday. 3) I need to get my bike fixed and start riding. This momma is sadly out of shape!