My grandfather, and most of my family, have all been miners. I have fond memories of my grandfather coming home from work with all kinds of unique stones for me, rattling in his lunch box. As I've grown older, I've realized, that even in his dark, dangerous and sweaty work, he would stop, look at a rock and think of me. What a wonderful thought and it's brought a smile to my face every time I've thought of it over the years. I still love beautiful rocks.