My nephew was on his way over. I hung up the phone as I sauntered from the kitchen to the living room. Walking had become an issue of late but then at 96 years of age, I guess it’s to be expected.

I put the phone on the charger and shuffled, really, to the coat closet for my sweater; summer was just around the corner which made me happy. I was done with the cold.

Sweater on, purse in hand, I was at the door when Rob arrived & he held my arm gently as we made our way to his car. It was a comfortable car, low to the ground and easy to get in & out. Much better than that big truck Shannon, my niece, Rob’s sister, drove. One time it took for everyone to realize I wouldn’t be riding in said truck! So Rob was elected as my driver.

We were on our way to where I was moving. Not an old school old people home but a beautiful young hip community with lots of promise. I’d taken the tour, met some folk and was sold.

Truth be told, however, I was also part of the protest.

“Rose Mountain Protest Explodes

In New Neighborhood,” read the headline in this morning’s CompuNews. Explodes must be an euphemism for “people move into new community” because that’s about all that had exploded: the population.

Well, that and the controversy of the place. And controversial things were!

You see back in ‘my day’ as old folk often say, well, back in My Day, Rose Onyx was quarried from one mine in Colorado and used exclusively in the Denver Capitol building.

And now, with JD Franklin’s new find, which was another quarry of Rose Onyx, the world stood up & took notice. From greedy cons to what seemed like many different groups protesting, everyone wanted something from his find and he said, “No.”

He was a bit greedy and quite the showman, who built his own town using the Rose Onyx like old builders used granite. Apparently the mine was quite a find with at least a few years’ worth of mining left.

There was one particular contingency that wanted regulations and nationalization of the mine so that once again the precious rock wouldn’t be quarried away never to be seen again. But here we were, with another mine, lucky us, the World, and not just JD Franklin, who had bought the land, mined it, and discovered the coveted Rose Onyx. No, they believed it belonged to the world.

My protest, moving into Rose Onyx Village, really was only that I loved the place…

We pulled into my soon to be new community, drove past the post office, library, shops; all buildings showcasing the Rose Onyx throughout the community. It was exquisite! Brass, glass, and stone. It seemed as if everything was made of this Rose Onyx. We turned off Main Street and drove towards my complex; a one story Rose Onyx fronted cabin in a series of cabins. Smaller than my current home but not so small that I’d be uncomfortable. And I was surrounded by beauty.