Many of you have enjoyed my youngest child’s pronouncements throughout the years. We call them Tedisms. Recently, he has been lobbying to go back to a rocks and gems shop in Southern New Hampshire right when school gets out. He and I share a geological bond. His goal this year is to add to his moonstone collection – his favorite gem. These opalescent orbs (see photo above) radiate light from some unknown source and they are quite mesmerizing. Recently, I have become quite partial to shiva lingam stones (see photo below) from India. Sacred in Hindu culture where the rock is seen as the embodiment of the energy of the God Shiva, these bead-like 1″-2″ river rocks have an earthy weightiness and an appealing, smooth, rotational surface that encourages meditative manipulation. Shiva lingams are not as eye-catching as moonstones, although their desert roan and russet tones have a Southwestern appeal; but they are equally if not more tactile.
Each summer, he and I pick a date and drive the hour and a half to the Southern New Hampshire town of Milford for gems and barbeque. Gems and barbeque — quite the contrast (although I did spend much of my twenties line dancing the Texas two step in the basement of a second rate Lexington Avenue hotel at a place called Denim and Diamonds, so I guess there is a somewhat Proustian precedent for this combo). Our “rock shop,” The Quartz Source, is located in a rambling cape-style house situated on a sleepy major road. There is never much traffic; however the traffic there is often consists of a rumble of trucks, making the site far less appealing as a residence than it once was. Out back, the shop also sells granite and other stone for landscaping, grave markers and monuments – all laid out neatly in an extended exterior garage and garden complex. The setting is charming, despite the periodic shrieking truck. They sell all kinds of rocks, fossils, crystals, gems and garden statuary, large and small. The customers are mostly fairy seeking pagans with beat up Hondas and VW bugs displaying unicorns, rainbows and peace sign stickers. Mixed in with these visitors are usually a handful of leathered New Hampshire contractor types whose practical rigs sport Harley Davidson and NRA stickers. These gruff men, intent on acquiring stone by the ton, keep their respectful distance from the flowing dress and Jesus sandals crowd. But, periodically they do nod a John Deere-capped head in the ethereals’ direction. I have seen them stop to hold the door for the (mostly women) visitors as they depart with their tiny black velvet drawstring bags filled with magical purchases, a collection of treasures gracing their often henna-etched hands.
Only 3 miles down the road, our barbeque joint stands in distinct contrast to the land of gems, crystals and rocks. An enterprising couple from the south has returned for the past 10+ years to set up their custom made portable pit barbeque trailer where they deliver the smoky taste of the true South to passers by and workers from the local businesses. Their trailer is a gem. We happened upon it during a drive home from summer camp one year and have returned on an annual pilgrimage ever since. Each year we hold our breath with anticipation hoping they have made it back up North for another season. Through the screened door looms a giant covered charcoal pit, black iron with a small smokestack generating the most delectable of grilled meat scents. This compact mobile rib and chicken shop, designed especially for them by a craftsman in Alabama, delivers the ultimate in Southern barbeque right in the New Hampshire foothills – the improbability of the whole scene enhances the experience ten-fold.
This year when my son broached the subject of our trip, I was not quite feeling up to committing to a date what with all the year-end wrap up activities and other June shenanigans. Instead, I tried to persuade him to obtain this year’s end of school gems via the The Quartz Source’s extensive website. Without missing a beat, he delivered a resounding, “No,” encased in a profound and memorable statement, “I can’t do that, Mom, the internet is just too ugly.” Teasing out his meaning with a few additional questions, it became clear that by “ugly,” he meant flat, monochrome and non-tactile. Why would you look to words and photos for pleasure when you could have the real thing?
He had lodged onto something critical. In fact, he’d lodged onto THE thing that distinguishes summer (and many weekends.) To a kid, the school year is a timeline of learning that concentrates itself on the flat, two-dimensional world of reading, writing and arithmetic. Now in school’s defense, you the student are supposed to enliven this two-dimensionality with the additional dimensions of your creativity and imagination. But, we all know that our creativity and imagination clings to certain subjects while going totally limp for others. In summer however, the flat world of academic learning gives way to a giant, lush, three-dimensional experience of the world. We don’t read about rocks or New Hampshire or the Appalachian tradition of barbeque, we dive right in and experience it. Ultimately, he is right — visiting our rock store just could not be supplanted by a mere online shopping experience, no matter how elaborate or informative their website is.
So, our trip is now planned and this, my-Monday-before-school-is-out blog post, is an affirming act of transition. We are officially moving out of the second and into the third dimension — the summer dimension – of learning and fun.
dispatchfromthecave 