Confessions of a Rock Picker, a/k/a Butterflies for Hillary

I'm a stone addict. No, not the Rolling Stones, although I do like their music. I'm addicted to rocks and stones. I cannot go for a walk without my head down, eyes darting, looking for that unusual shape or color or fossil. My husband tells me he once had a Black Lab that also hunted stones, but she held them in her mouth while they walked. I will say that I am a little less obtrusive with my stones and either slip them into a pocket or rub them between my thumb and fingers as as I walk. When I return home I wash them up, inspect them, wonder about them and drop them here or there around the house.

I found one today while walking the bike path along the River. It's not a whole stone, but a part of one with tiny little sparkly red dots on the inside. Not a particularly beautiful stone, but it's been days since I've found anything else that held my attention and I've actually passed this particular stone a couple of times with mild interest, so I figured today was the day and I brought her home.

I also saw a tiny baby turtle and two beautiful white dancing butterflies, which I think were celebrating Hillary's Pennsylvania win. New York borders Pennsylvania, so it's the right thing to do.