My kids do their best talking in the mini van. I learn all their stories and they do 'fun' things like quiz each other in Spanish and math. (Honestly, not sure how they are my offspring.)
Some mornings it is dinosaur puns. Mixed with World War One stories and reenactments with dramatic scenes.
They fight over what station to listen to. My teenager gets really teenage.
The other day on the way to school Eli says, "Hey, I have a good idea. Let's have a silent ride. (insert dramatic pause) Or. I could tell stories. So..."
The teenager and I scream for the quiet ride. He starts telling stories. So then she tells a story. Which makes the 7 year old who gets left out of everything want to tell a story.
He starts his and I think I start to tune out to their chatter. I do my best thinking in the mini van.
Then I hear Lucas scream, "Guys, I am not done. I am not done. Wait. The mortal to the story is imaginate."
Now story time ends with each of them saying, "The mortal to the story is..."
My lover and I both have first graders named Lucas. They have each claimed a new name when they are together which truly has helped keep track of them much easier.
Bobby and Evan were playing Simon Says in the mini van on the ride home. It was getting a bit chaotic, as 4 kids in a mini van can become.
Bobby says, "Evan, pause. I need a pause so I can process this in my head."
Pause. Process. Download. Integrate.
Rinse and Repeat.
I am sitting in the mini van waiting for the littles to get out of school. I go into my usual loop.
I see an email from Hannah's Harvest. My first business name from 7 years ago. I sent myself an email? From back in time?
My head and heart had a moment of confusion and a bit of panic. Seems someone bought my old URL and the feed burner is still attached to my email. Never occurred to me that this could happen.
I am unable to get into feed burner to fix it. So I read my email. Apparently my Harvest is all about windows. Kinda boring. Not sure who Hannah is or how she has so much to say about windows.
Clearly, I love windows. My loft. My entire building floor to ceiling windows along brick walls.
I wonder how I could make it more interesting, seeing as how I am sending out these emails to everyone who had ever read my old blog.
My mind still racing, feeling a bit annoyed that I have to add this to the 'deal with' pile of lists.
I decide to release it. Kick myself for letting the URL go un-renewed. Move on.
Messages float in telling me about the window emails. I want a cup of tea with a side of a nap.
The brake pads seem to be going, again, in the mini van. I remember the day I bought that car, the 2003 van of my dreams, 6 years ago. I had two car seats and a booster and an enormous dalmatian all inside a Volvo station wagon (my favorite car ever). I never thought I would drive anything other than a Volvo but my family was growing and buckling those seat belts was becoming impossible.
We didn't have the money but we found a way. All of a sudden I could breathe. I had space. The thing I craved most.
I love driving and feeling like I am up high. The van is where I process. Download. It is where I pause.
My first videos for my programs were made in the mini van while Lucas slept. I would go through the Starbucks drive-thru. Park. Connect to their wifi and work as he napped. I propped up my computer on the steering wheel and turned on my webcam and would chatter away.
Now my growing family, all 7 of us and a hamster and 2 giant stuffed bears all fit inside this van.
My gratitude for it runs deep. Memories of all the flat tires, almost running out of gas, driving gold fish buckled into the passenger seat, the grass seed that spilled all over the front seats and I swear started growing and the coffee stains everywhere. (Fertilizer?)
This last year has tested me in ways I didn't see coming. Now as finances are tight I am praying it will hold me for one more year while I recover from the financial hits of divorce. I am asking it to take me through my next transition as I move into a new space.
A new home. All the downloads. The stories. The laughter. The puns.
So many mortals.
Feel the gratitude.
And. I don't sell windows. If you are getting emails from Hannah's Harvest, go ahead and unsubscribe.