Saturday, March 28, 2015

Really Neat Rocks . . . from the Sea!

The past couple of months have been very, very busy for me, which is why I haven't written here.  It's not that I haven't been writing; it's just that I haven't been writing here.  Today that changes.


For one thing, I have ordered a brand new rock saw.  My old faithful Lortone was extremely used when we bought it 25 years ago, and it has given excellent service.  It has cut many, many rocks, been through many blades, a new motor, and I don't know what else.  Eventually, the table has worn out and the bottom is full of little holes.   It's just time to replace it.  Expected arrival of the brand new stainless steel Lortone Unit is Tuesday, and I'm beside myself with anticipation.


Part of the reason for the new saw is that I simply have all these really neat rocks around and I need to do something with them.  So, what's this particular blog going to be about?  Agates?  Jaspers?  Rainbow obsidian?


Nope.  Sea shells.



Sea shells?  Sea shells?

There is, of course, a story behind them, and that's why they're here today.

I love natural things, like stone and wood.  My photo albums are filled with pictures of clouds and rain and storms and mountains, trees and flowers and running water.  Because I lived the first 37 years of my life in the Midwest and the past 30 in Arizona, sea shells have never been an easily or readily acquired material, but that doesn't mean they don't attract my attention.

On one particular day, they really caught my attention.


Sunday, 19 October 1969, was a warm sunny day in Norfolk, Virginia.  A gorgeous day for heading to the beach at Ocean View.  My husband was in the Navy, stationed in Norfolk, and we didn't have a lot of money for entertainment, but an afternoon at the beach didn't cost anything.

The sand was littered with lovely shells, a kind I'd never seen before.  Thin, translucent, in colors from a creamy pearl ivory to a rich golden orange, they seemed to be just about everywhere.  He found an old cigar box on the beach and I began picking up shells.

The big crafting rage in those days was poured resin casting, and we had it in mind to make a round tabletop.  The shells would make excellent material for such a project.  It never happened.  I kept the shells, but we never had the spare cash to buy the resin or the mold to pour it in.  We moved back to Indiana, where sea shells were only souvenirs from somewhere else.  And then, so many years later, we moved to Arizona and its really neat rocks.

But of course the sea shells came with me.  They've sat in two small boxes in my desk drawer for years now.  Once in a while I take them out to look at and wonder what kind of jewelry I could make from them.  Nothing has yet quite come to mind, although there are possibilities percolating in my brain.

Last night those two small boxes kind of came alive with whisperings from those shells.  It occurred to me that I didn't even know what kind of shells they were, though of course I knew exactly when and where I had found them.  So I threw up a question post on Etsy.com.  This morning I had my answer.  Thank you so much, Jackie Locantore!

They're called "Jingle Shells."

http://www.mitchellspublications.com/guides/shells/articles/0001/

So named because a handful of these thin, translucent clamshell halves make a jingling sound when shaken together, Jingle Shells (Anomia simplex) are sometimes found as far north as the coast of Nova Scotia, and all the way down south to Brazil.
Well, now that I know what they are, I suppose I ought to figure out something to do with them!


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