10 May 2013


My daughter loves her “wocks” (rocks). It started many many months ago. Maybe you could say in Africa there wasn’t much to play with besides sand and rocks but that wouldn’t be entirely true. Just partially true. They were kind of everywhere and always free for the taking. We’d often have to stand by the gate and wait for her to dig through the sand so she could find the perfect “wittle wock” to bring in the compound. We could have tried to stop her, but frankly, it usually wasn’t worth the fight.
Do you know my daughter? ;)


We found a collection of rocks stashed inside an oatmeal can.


She’d go looking for the perfect rocks when we would visit the tea lady…


…and then display them on the table (and want to take them home).


She’d dig for them at church and carry them around in her shirt.


She’d collect them during her Daddy’s football (soccer) game and put them in an old bottle (which was also scavenged).


When we returned to the States, we discovered several rocks hidden in the dresser drawer.


Recently she dug in rocks outside of church.


And here is a collection that showed up on our coffee table.

We often find her looking for the perfect rock outside the building we live in and find rocks stashed in the pockets of her school backpack and in her coat pockets. Or in the washing machine. Oops.
Dear girl. Dear sweet silly girl. I love her. And rocks are pretty harmless, eh?

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