As I survey my vast (ok, minuscule) domain of the Small Gardens, I seek out the oddities that can bring a moment of distraction to the boredom that is playing out in my brain as I am isolated here. With limitations on what I can do, how active I can get and where I can roam, I now live in a sort of "Make-Believe World". Trust me when I say, it is not all fun and games. This fantasy world is whatever I can dream up about the mundane sights I see over and over again in my realm of the Small Gardens. As Queen of the Small Gardens, I have that privilege. I can glorify a pile of sand to become a dune, a bent weed to become a lofty palm tree or a trickling gutter can be a roaring river. Whatever I want them to be....
Speaking of roaring rivers and gutters, before my affliction, I was working on the gravel gutter drain. I had grand ideas of turning it into a water feature for the gardens, In fact, that may have led to my undoing. (I am not sure if my medical experts would agree on that or not but it rambled about in my mind recently.) Instead of waiting for Son to help me, I created a fountain on the high end of my "creek" by making use of a huge concrete urn. This thing weighs well over a hundred pounds and, well, I lifted it and positioned it as I saw fit. I figured "Hey, if I can shovel a huge load of gravel, I should be able to create a fountain!" I did. It is awesome! Speaking of that gravel before I get too far off track, that is where my brain found today's magical pieces!
Regular old driveway gravel is not what one could call beautiful or even exciting. It is mundane, to say the least. It serves a purpose and does a good job. BUT! If that gravel happens to have water trickling over it for any length of time, it begins to take on a life of its own. The grime is washed away and soon vivid colors can be seen. Wee ridges, cuts and imprints are visible as are tiny fossils. Each pebble is turned into a variable gemstone of intrigue! Among the cobwebs in the nooks and crannies of my brain, I vaguely recall Granddad mentioning that many times, the "gemstones of life are often overlooked as simple pebbles." I know he had a message in there somewhere as he often spoke in parables when trying to teach me as a small child. Sometimes, those lessons flew past my understanding and went straight to the back of my mind. Now, as I am older, I can dust off those tidbits and they suddenly seem to be brilliant.
So, the Queen of the Small Gardens has now decided that pebbles are gemstones whether in parables or drainage ditches. With that in mind, I am rich beyond compare. It is amazing how royalty gives you these insights! Either that or the brain is still fuzzy. Probably...

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