I’m on I-5 heading south to pick up a water polo team of Muscovy ducklings. Along for the ride is Evelyn, who’s in the backseat playing a dinosaur app on her tablet, and Dave, who’s listening to the Mariners play the Kansas City Royals in the first inning.
It’s T-minute 11 minutes until the little peepers are in the box.
“I like bridges.” Evelyn’s wandering eyes look out and up, taking in the red steel cage above. “I do, too,” Dave responds, as a communal reverie at human accomplishment takes center stage.
I enjoy visiting unchartered areas. We’re out on a peninsula outside of Olympia. It’s nothing but country here; vast hay fields, sprawling rambler homes, and trees. Lots and lots of trees. It reminds me of the drives we’d take as a family in the old Buick of my Mom’s. “Get in the car, kids. We’re going on a drive.” Did we get ice cream? I’m relatively sure that was my parent’s main bartering chip.
Eek, two minutes!
We’re home, and seven uncoordinated monsters are all settled in the pen. I’m sitting cross-legged under some newly installed solar patio lights and hear them squeaking from across the drive. It’s the kind of night I wish could last forever. A happily filled tummy, a bunny rabbit soft cardigan, and Evelyn gleefully throwing the bone for Archie and laying in the grass with him.
I think I’ll sign off and be a part of it. Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 