My Erotic Rock Collection

Yours is probably bigger. But. I'm ever so fond of mine.

This one my boyfriend gave me:

He found it whilst ocean kayaking off the West Coast. He got caught in an undercurrent and held underwater and thought for sure he'd die under there. But he didn't. He got out. And as he lay gasping for breath on the rocky shore, his bottom half still skirted in neoprene, his chest heaving, he spied it: a small, round, black rock with a hole in it.

When I met my boyfriend he wore that rock around his neck on a leather cord.

Later he gave it to me. "You can have it," he told me. "It's for you."

I followed that boyfriend to a city with a climate worse than Siberia's. We called it Winterpig. He worked in an office and I worked in our apartment, trying to make a go of freelance writing. I never made much money but I did find my voice in an important way. We loved ice-skating down the Red River, holding hands, but were homesick. We wanted hills and family and cool evenings. So we decided to move back West together.

On a fall day we went to Grand Beach where I found this in the sparkling sand:

"You can have it," I told my fiancee. "It's for you."

How about that detail on the tip? It looks like it was carved a long time ago and the top of it is quite polished and shiny as if it has been rubbed either a lot or just really vigorously along the, um... shaft.

Whether it's an ancient Indian artefact or just a rock that really looks like a schlong, I couldn't tell you.

I remember the day I found it in much detail though -- the golden light, the red leaves, the breeze and the vastness of the lake. How lucky I felt to find such a thing amidst all those kilometres of sand!

I can't believe how many years ago that was. This weekend we are celebrating our 10th wedding anniversary. I couldn't tell you how many times we've walked along a rocky creek bed or river bank together and handed each other a rock we've found.

Here's one:

So much has changed for us in the past 10 years and so much has stayed the same. Now we have children who toddle along trails and riverbanks alongside us and when we get home from outings we always have to empty our pockets of rocks. There's little piles of them everywhere on our shelves and our windowsills.

There's so many unremarkable ones, aren't there? But then one just grabs your eye, doesn't it? And you look at it closely and realize how lovely and rare and gorgeous it is! And you're so glad you really looked at it. And you just must take it home with you.

This one I'm going to hang on to forever and ever and ever.

Love,
Betsy