Only two years old, and already he’s learned this nighttime stalling tactic! Argh!
I had been thinking something more along the lines of “Hush Little Baby”… I’m thinking I’d better not take requests next time.
Some little boys love dinosaurs; others favor semi-trucks, or insects.
At least one whom I know loves Kraftwerk. It is pretty cute to hear him and his brothers doing their best to sing lyrics in German while we drive along.
Wir fahren, fahren, fahren
Auf der Autobahn
Vor uns liegt ein weites Tal
Die Sonne scheint mit Gliterstrahl
“We drive, drive, drive on the Autobahn. In front of us is a wide valley; the sun is shining with glittering rays.”
Their singing is punctuated by cries of, “Horses!” “Mighty Machines!” (heavy machinery) “Cows!” “Pigs!” (I don’t think we’ve seen any pigs, actually; but John persists in calling cows pigs, not from any personal animus but because he hasn’t quite worked out their proper name.)
To my lasting amazement, we managed to load our household things onto a truck, drive the truck to a shipping station, and load everything onto a truck trailer there, all without loss of limb or temper, and on time, too. We could not have done it without the timely help of our friend Carol, two of our friend Monica’s boys, three hard-working men from Man With a Truck, and the prayers of our friends. Thank you!
Some generous friends gave us a little going away party a couple of weeks before we left. As we told them our plans for North Carolina, it sounded like a new version of the older American dream of going west: to get a little land, have a few animals, we planned to go east.
Almost always when we visit Tucson, the Spurious Freedom diaspora get back together to jam. This band has been through a lot together – sickness, job loss, cross-country moves – but the bond among the band members and families remains strong. The band, and the band wives and children, are a group of loyal, big-hearted folk. We are fortunate to know them.
As I mentioned once before, I love that we have a lot of time to talk on road trips, even if the subject matter is no deeper than school yard rhymes remembered from when we were kids.
In central Texas we passed this scene, which seemed quintessentially Texan: a ranch, with a Texan flag on a fort-style flag post in front, with a cross on a hill.
On Monday we arrived in Louisiana, at Gramp and Granny’s house. We got to visit with Auntie Phoebe and Uncle William and the cousins, who live across the street. We had ordered snow boots to be sent to Gramp and Grannie’s house to pick up on our way. Johnny tried his on, and they met with his approval.
The night that we arrived there was a rain storm. John didn’t want to come inside; we sat on the back porch and watched the rain pour down, and the sky flash with lightning again and again. I couldn’t blame him for wanting to stay outside and watch it.
The night before last we arrived in the Smokies. Granny came with us to help us out for the first week and a half. We found our little rental in the dark, and settled in. So far my observations are these: it is very pretty here in the mountains; and it’s co-oooold! I’ll keep you posted.