Mary’s parents put their spare change in a jar in the kitchen just for the ice cream truck. She would climb up on the step stool and put her fist into the jar and count out the amount she’d need for 2 small cones.
When the littlest was digging down he could get where we could only see the bottom half of him sticking out. A garden hose was always on hand with an on/off so they could have lakes, moats and floods.
That happened long before the fire last year. After the fire I thought of the people who had lost everything and realized they would not have what they needed.
They would turn on the lights and sirens and drive a few blocks to the movie theater we had then. I would cover my ears and be scared silly. The theater was called El Grande and once we arrived there we’d line up, still bundled up to our chins.
When they lived in Burbank, California three different trucks would pick up. One for trash, one for recycling and one for “green” trash for composting. One day a week Little Farmgirl could watch trucks all day.
Andy is out in the driveway waxing his truck again, second time this week. He’s singing “On The Road Again” and his long suffering wife Deb is watching him from the kitchen window and rolling her eyes for the tenth time in as many minutes.
When my son, Asa, turned sixteen he bought a 1978 ford pickup from his grandfather. He learned to drive in it and so did his younger brother. It was light green and got terrible gas mileage. And they loved it.
*WHERE DO YOU WANT IT? Movers* is a wonderful moving company. Moving is hard. I’m always impressed by people who move a lot. How much is a lot? More than once every 5 years.