Good Riddance Project: Repatriation

A product of our clutter purge is that we have a bowl of shells and pretty rocks.  Both Housemate and I are guilty of clingy beachcombing.  We get home and empty our sandy pockets onto windowsills and bookshelves.  I'm partial to mussel shells and rocks shaped vaguely like a heart.  Housemate likes odd shaped shell fragments and rocks with stripes in them.  Today I'm going to take three years worth of natural odds and ends -- all the sand dollars I found that wintry day on Popham Beach, and the huge moon shells I found on Scarborough Beach, plus all of our special rocks and shells -- to the little secret beach at the end of my street.  I'll scatter our treasures there for someone else to find.