crystals · life

The GLMSMC Gem, Mineral, and Fossil Show (or, Why I Have a Small Quantity of Uranium Now)

This past weekend was the 58th annual GLMSMC Gem, Mineral, and Fossil Show. It fell at a slightly weird time for us — I’m still in an ennui, and my Handsome Assistant has Dungeons & Dragons Hot Boy Activities every other weekend — but it A) it only comes once a year, 2) we’d been looking forward to it before realizing it happened at such a bad time, and III) it’s pretty easy to control how much time you spend there. Most of the time.

This year, to save some time and our limited energy, we skipped most of the displays on the first floor. If you’ve never been to the show, don’t miss these. They’re local minerals, geology displays, some really neat insect taxidermy, activities for kids, and a really cool blacklight tent of wild-looking fluorescent minerals.

The second floor is the vendors. When I say “vendors,” I mean sellers of stones of every description. Tumbled minerals like pieces of brightly colored candy. High-end faceted jewels of every color. Opal cabochons like fragments of rainbows. Fossilized creatures that seem to come from an alien world. Fist-sized geodes promising worlds of never-seen minerals within. Ropes upon ropes of artisan crafted beads.

What I’m saying is, it’s really cool and you should see it. It is an excellent place to go if you want to look through trays upon trays of precious minerals (many of which are domestically sourced, like some beautiful Herkimer quartz and uncommon minerals from Pennsylvania) and feel very fancy.

Last year, we “rolled the geode gacha” as my Assistant says, and ended up with a beautiful specimen of smoky quartz with sharp, clear calcite blades growing within. This year, we picked a small, reddish stone with some interesting globular formations outside that I thought might mean some botryoidal or mammillary formations inside.

Sure enough, the inside was filled with beautiful, rounded mounds of a soft gray, druzy mist, like little hillsides under snow. That’s not the most interesting part, though. That’d be this:

A blacklight shines on a pair of geodes, displaying small areas of bright green.

It’s a bit difficult to make out with the ambient lighting and the way my phone tends to handle such things, but these geodes showed several bright (and I mean bright) green specks and areas. You can really see one on the small rounded globule at the bottom of the first geode, and at the top of the second.

“Those are uranium inclusions,” the seller helpfully explained.

“Oh! Neat!” We replied.

And this is how we came into possession of a very small quantity of radioactive material. It’s really pretty in person — my plan is to find a small blacklight that I can mount in my mineral cabinet, and give this specimen a home that’ll show it to its best advantage.

(I’m not too concerned about radioactivity. This mineral appears to be chalcedony, in which uranyl ions can appear as a natural contaminant. These ions mostly emit alpha particles and weak gamma rays, and I wouldn’t honestly expect a specimen with only a few inclusions to emit much detectable radiation at all. I cleaned it well to remove inhalable dust. In a cabinet, in a well-ventilated room, located a few feet from where people sit, this geode is probably safer than my kitchen’s granite countertops.)

This is also a great place to go if you enjoy collecting fossils. This year, there were some really excellent specimens from a cave bear, Ursus spelaeus, including a bunch of jaws and fully-intact paw!

Some fossilized jaws, with teeth, from cave bears. In the foreground, there's a whole fossilized paw with five wicked-looking claws.

There were also fascinating specimens of smaller guys, too. Last year, we brought home a trilobite. This year, we just took pictures. Several specimens were loose, like little armored cabochon jewels. Others were still embedded in ancient silt, like tiny aliens traversing an undiscovered moon.

Also, there was a facehugger.

Some sort of prehistoric scorpion (possibly Pulmonoscorpius kirktonensis). It's roughly a foot long, with its tail arched beneath it and its massive claws upraised.

Some tables held rare specimens in combination. Giant dogtooth calcites growing on beds of glittery chalcopyrite. Tiny, fine threads of stibnite jutting up from barite and quartz. Really pretty stuff worthy of a museum (or the display of someone with a much bigger cabinet than I have). As beautiful as they were, they were some of the most challenging to photograph — each one was like a tiny ecosystem of its own, and their depth and complexity made it difficult to choose a spot to focus on!

We came home with some interesting crystal carvings, our geode, a particularly lovely amethyst specimen, and a small bit of amber (I like to offer them to Freya when I can).

Admission to the show is only six dollars, and you can save a buck by downloading and printing out the coupon on their website. Even if you didn’t get to attend this year’s show, mark your calendar for next year — it’s always a good time, and there are tons of beautiful things to see!

life · Neodruidry · Witchcraft

Frederick Pagan Pride 2023

It’s just this past Saturday, and my Handsome Assistant and I pull up to the Unitarian Universalist Church in Frederick, MD. The friendly young people attending the lot tell us there aren’t any parking spaces left. We’ll have to go to the lot a mile down the road, they direct us, and take the shuttle.

Personally, I’m shocked. It’s only a quarter past ten, how could the lot be full already?

A rustic pendant made of copper, quartz crystall, and azurite malachite on a copper chain.

They weren’t kidding, though. Even the other lot was filling up, and the shuttle was almost completely full as we rode back. The grounds themselves were ringed with vendors, information booths, and more — there was Tempered Raven, who hand-forges beautiful blades There were so many booths of jewelry (I bought a beautiful quartz, azurite malachite, and copper necklace from Unclaimed Treasures). There were herbs, incenses, soaps, pottery, handmade brooms and whisks, woodcarvings, altar supplies, and amazing desserts. There was even free coffee, tea, and cold brew from the awesome people at Stone Circle Council (check them out — they do some very cool things).

A handmade ceramic watercolor palette with eight wells.
I also picked up a handmade palette. It’s intended for watercolor, but I’d like to see how it does with casein. Casein paint dries out so fast and softens up with a bit of water, so working with it is a bit more like gouache than acrylic. I’m thinking a glazed surface will be perfect!

There were also loads of workshops and live music. It was busy, it was vibrant, it was great. I always regret not taking more pictures of the event itself, but I always feel a bit odd about snapping pics of people unaware. (Sure, there’s no expectation of privacy in public, but something being legal doesn’t preclude it from being a bit of a dick move, you know?)

The busyness was at once a wonderful sign, and an unfortunate one.

On the one hand, it’s great that events like this are attracting a bigger audience. Aside from vendors of beautiful crafts and delicious food, there are lots of tables for different Pagan, metaphysical, and mystical organizations. If you’re looking for a path to call to you, or people to network with, this is the place to find that thing. In an era where social media has allowed — even encouraged — the proliferation of misinformation that’s unhelpful at best and dangerous at worst (and don’t get me started on AI generated books), it’s really nice that there’s still a wonderful variety of actual organizations dedicated to study and practice.

Last year, I got a little emotional about how events like Pagan Pride make me feel about community, aging, and tradition. It’s a feeling I hope everyone gets to experience at least once.

On the other hand, a big part of the reason for this large audience is that two other Pagan Pride events — the one in DC, and one in Manassas, VA — effectively no longer exist. A friend pointed out that they’d even contacted the coordinators of the DC pride event and hadn’t heard anything back at all. As if the email address was going unchecked. I looked up information on Manassas everywhere I could, but it was pretty scarce. The last event seemed to be in 2019, and the 2022 event was cancelled. According to their Facebook, they weren’t able to hold one in 2023.

A lot of Pagan community organizers seem to be either getting burned out (with everything else going on right now, who can blame them? Add the often-thankless work of organizing to the struggles everyone else is dealing with right now, and it’s completely understandable) or just aging out of their roles. All of the organizations I know, even the ones I’m a part of, operate on budgets that would make a shoestring look luxurious by comparison.

It’s something I’d love to help with, but I’m not really sure where to start. I’ve often said that, if I were handed enough money to live off of for the rest of my life, I’d put it into a small house on a large piece of property. I’d rewild as much as I could and put it under a conservation easement. Some, I’d want to guide into operating as a permaculture food forest (I have tiny fantasies of adopting a rescue donkey or small pony, having them carry a basket, and walking around with them to pick fruits and vegetables). The rest, I’d want to make into an event space for musicians, dancers, and events like Pride. I have no heirs, so, when I died, I’d will it back to whatever Indigenous group formerly held it. In the meantime, I’d want it to be a place for community members to interact — flora, fauna, and human alike.

I mean, I feel like I’m basically describing a two-person commune, but I feel like you get the gist.

I suppose what I’m saying is that it’s a shame that the world has done us up all wretched, and I wish I knew how to take on some of the burden of organizing and setting up events like this with the resources that I already have. (A tiny yard, most of which is steeply uphill, an even tinier bank account, and massive social anxiety).

In the meantime, support your local Pagan organizations and artisans, yeah?