I’ve mooned over rocks before, even listing some thrifty places to score a gem or too and showing off a few on display, but it never dawned on me to display this childhood rock collection. There was a major inhibitor: these are my favorite rocks, in their original, handy-dandy box:
What a silly way to store pretty shiny things. I can’t play with them (one of the f-ers gave me a sliver) so the only way they’re of any use is if I can look with my eyes. A new storage solution was needed.
As a side note, how hilarious is it I was given asbestos? My Dad always jokingly told me every family had one more child than they wanted. I’m an only child.
Luckily, the asbestos wasn’t my fancy. My favorite rock was the amethyst from Thunder Bay because it made me feel like a celebrity. Nerdy child version of me thought that a rock from my home town was the coolest thing.
While still home in Canada, I tracked down a glass box with the same dimensions as the cardboard box, but with fewer compartments. It was pricey (I paid $60.00) but it was worth it because these rocks are sentimental and sparkly. Plus, the box is nice quality.
I didn’t want to lose track of which rock is which, so I grabbed some double sided tape and affixed the labels to the bottom of the glass. How cute is it they were typed on a typewriter?
Next up: some needle punched cotton felt batting to line the bottoms. I didn’t want the rocks to slide around or scratch up the glass.
With the labels and felt in place, I arranged my rocks by colour. Oh, the nerdiness. This post is so saturated in nerdiness, all you cool kids are going to leave a wee bit more awkward.
With the rocks displayed in their (secretly) labelled new box, the desk we built Hubby has some sparkle. The office has a lot of eye candy, from my silhouette wall to artful Expedit hack (tour the office here), plus we’re adding a more colourful piece of art above the desk, so I like the simple ornamentation. So does Hubs, who plonks his laptop here in the evenings and enjoys some computer time uninhibited by tchotchkes.
P.S. don’t have a childhood rock collection? Dig another collection out of the attic to display:
|Via Off Beat Home; Lisa Congdon, a Little Sussy; Apartment Therapy|