Pocket Stone...

Bethany likes stones. This is a wee facination she's had ever since she could walk.

We were out for a wee saunter in the snow the other week there and as usual, she picked up a few stones on the journey. The first two she found, I offered to put in her pocket (note to self, remember to empty that pocket if the jacket gets put in the wash) to free up her hands. The third, she picked up and offered to me saying "For you daddy." I, as usual, take the offered stone with my usual comment "Ooh, that's a good one."

Things tend to stay in my pockets for a number of weeks minimum and I've only just produced it from my pocket today to find that "Ooh, it is indeed, a good one". It also came in very handy.

I ended up walking alongside an ex-collegue with whom I've not got a thing in common with, I wasn't terribly impressed with them when I worked with them and I'm pretty crap at small talk anyways. I was fingering the stone in my pocket and it came in as a useful, if slightly obscure, talking point for the number of metres of carpet we shared company.

As it was a Bethany gift, it will probably travel with me for a good wee while.