
I asked my wife if we could order pizza, and then asked her to tell the pizza people to put extra little tables… those things that keep the box lid off your cheese… in the box. And she didn’t even ask me why I wanted them. When I hinted about her asking why I wanted the extra tables, she said she didn’t need to know why I wanted them. That is how used to my crack squirrels she is.

I wanted them as drying stands for when I put varnish on the rocks, if you are more curious than my wife.

But my new definition of love is: when you know somebody so well that you just aren’t even curious about why they would ask for extra tiny plastic tables.
Do you grow the rocks yourself or are they strays you find along the way?
I search high and low… mostly low.