Be Careful To What You Get Attached

When people go to the beach they rarely leave without some “treasure” they have discovered while combing the beach. If they are lucky it is a small shell or a small rock that is especially pretty, but not always. On the same excursion described in a previous post my grandson Ike fell in love with a beautiful piece of driftwood. I share his appreciation for the way wood is pounded by the waves and the sand – water mixture sculpts the wood into a beautiful shape with nice curves and smooth surface. This driftwood which was the object of his affection was not really of a practical size for taking home especially since it was over 2 miles up hill back to the car. Ike could pick it up and he decided to bring it home which he announced to me with conviction. Not wishing to make it easy for him to abandon his goal I let him know that I doubted he could do it. Where upon he, being the most skilled 9 year old negotiator I have ever known, asked: “How much will you give me if I do?” Having experience with this young man’s skills I refused to fall into the trap, but Chris arose to the challenge with a dollar bill as the prize. Now this was truly a win-win situation; he could carry home his treasure and get someone to finance the effort. I can see the writing on the wall, this kid is going to do well in life.

Well, if you read the previous post you already know that I was way out in front of the caravan back from the beach. At least part of the reason was that I didn’t really want to get called upon to be a beast of burden.

I should also mention that I had been helping Anastasia in finding pretty rocks. She had found quite a pocket full and they were beauties, but they were pretty small and how valuable can a rock really be if it is small? So I found some really nice ones and they were of a meaningful size, ones that were really worth saving, which she quickly added to her collection. She was pretty heavily laden as we left the beach and I was curious to see how she dealt with these treasures as their weight began to be noticed.

Now some of this information I am relating is second-hand since I was ahead of everyone, but I understand that Ike carried the lovable log for quite a ways then he dragged it behind him for a while and then he wore-out the other shoulder and was beginning to loose his affection for it and the dollar was looking more and more insignificant, so he sent up a trial-balloon in a statement to Granny, that “he might just leave this log behind”. If you know Granny, giving up is not something she does and she does not see why others should do it either, so she, even though she stood to gain a buck, discouraged his giving up with the response, “We are almost there, you don’t want to quit now.”

Isaac Canales Feb 2007

Meantime, Anastasia’s treasures were beginning to assert their weight, but even with a suggestion from her mother, she was not willing to abandon her treasure trove. Anastasia is a determined girl and so she insisted that her treasures be carried by her parents.

Now Cardon and I had been at the car for about 20 minutes eating snacks and talking when we saw the first of the stragglers coming up the trail and decided to go meet them. I have to say I was proud  of Ike. He was a little bent but rejuvenated by the sight of the car. We put the illustrious log in the back of the car and it is to-this-day decorating my back yard.


This entry was posted in Family doings, grand daughters, Grand son, Hikes and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Be Careful To What You Get Attached

  1. Phil Cardon says:

    Sweet story. I remember finding a large “pudding rock” in the dry creekbed up McNabb Road. I could not figure out a way to get it home because it was too large to roll into my pickup truck.

    Oh how I lusted after that amazingly beautiful rock. I could just picture it as the center piece of a flower garden or in some other prominant location. Finally I resigned myself to the fact that the beautiful large boulder would just have to grace the creekbed for the rest of eternity and I would have to be content just to know that I could come up and gaze at it occaisionally.

    One beautiful spring day, I was up McNabb Road planting grain. I had been working a field about a mile from the pickup and was returning to fill the planter with seed and fetilizer. The closer I got to the trucks, I could tell that something was different about my pickup. The front wheels were all but off the ground and the rear of the truck was sagging, barely clearing the ground. I wondered what the heck was going on. After getting within 50 yards of the truck I could see a beautiful purple pudding stone gracing the back of my truck. I wondered how the thing miraculously made it’s way from the creekbed to the pickup. Further investigation revealed tell-tale loader tracks. A dead give away; John, bless his heart, went out of his way to bring a loader up the canyon and fish that rock out of the creek and place it in the truck just for me. Shows you what a kind and sensitive man he is. I consider myself blessed twice that day; once by getting my wish and twice knowing that I was loved.

    • Royal says:

      Thanks for the comment. Great story. For those who might not know, Phil and John are my cousins, Phil a son of John Cardon, my father’s brother. And John McNabb is the son of my father’s sister, Doris Cardon McNabb. I know John to have a generous heart so the story is not out of character. What isn’t clear from this post is that Phil was a full time employee on John’s farm.
      This probably took place near Inkom, Idaho.

      I love getting comments like this. Keep it up.

Leave a Reply