Auto Paralysis

Lately, I find great pleasure in quiet car moments.  Quiet, as in the car is parked and kidless.  We've made it home, everyone spills out, and I am catatonic, unable to move.  

I imagine all the noise that just shifted from the car to our house - dragging and dropping things, racing to the kitchen, everyone talking at the same time.  Quickly, the noise feels far, far away.  It's so peaceful behind the wheel, even behind the broken windshield.  

I don't worship my car like I used to as a late teen or 20-something, before "dependents" and evern before much climate change awareness.  I am not relishing in some song, or in the freedom of the road.  But this silent, grey, aged mini-van cradles me in a freedom just as vital:  the freedom to catch my breath.

Holding Hands Part II: In a Pumpkin

"Put them in a pumpkin shell, and there they function very well."  This may be as close as my competitive oldest two ever get to holding hands:

Holding Hands Part I: In Leaves

We have enjoyed a leaf pile in our backyard for quite some time now.  In fact, the grass underneath is surely dead.  A small price to pay.

The other day, the girls hid there from a friend who was coming over in, oh about an hour.  They laid peacefully and held hands.  

These two do fight, quite fiercely at times.  But in that pile of earthiness, they subconsciously connected their little fingers together for more than just a minute.  I do not cling to it as a state of their union.  But, it was a sacred time out of time moment, and one that was good.