Girls' Road Trip

Recently, I felt brave, really brave. In fact, there was no lost sleep, no worrying, no fretting. I was brave.

I set off on a 420 mile journey.

We're no stranger to this journey, but this time, it was only a girls' journey.

Yep, 420 miles alone with the two Mice in the backseat.

We checked out somewhere near 10 books on cd from the library, packed ourselves up, and headed out.

We had a great trip, made easier by the fact that we met Grammy and Grandpa Bob at about the 300 mile point on the way, and Grammy rode with us for the first 120 miles of the return journey.

But still, the Mice and I made it 300 miles on the way and 300 on the way back by ourselves, and it was really, truly the cutest trip I could have ever imagined. They danced together in the backseat (carseat dancing - arms and legs going only); we sang; we played "What am I hiding in?". It was lovely.

These are some of my favorite pictures. I should have had my camera out to take some with other family; I was lax on that this time.

Miss Mouse desperately wants to be a farmer when she grows up.

I remember the few times I played in mud as a child. Growing up in the drought of the 1980s meant mud was a special thing, an uncommon commodity. Never have I seen water like this around the farm. As far as I've heard, no one up there remembers water like this.

It was par for the course for these Mice, though. For them Spring=Water.

I'm fairly sure a cat brought out that sweet smile. Her favorite is still missing (we're going with "missing" for now since there is no real evidence to the contrary, and anyone who went to the same elementary music class I did will certainly break into song with "The cat came back, the very next day; the cat came back; they thought he was a gone-r, but the cat came back; he just couldn't stay awaaaaaay. Meow."), but adaptable little Miss Mouse has just warmed up to Jeeves now like he was always her love.

They're trying really hard to enjoy the "spring" weather on the deck.

Grown in Grammy's garden.

Picking crocuses in a beautiful spot. There are fields all around this hill, but my Dad chose to not till up this ground. Crocus bulbs from seed catalogs are beautiful, and I admire them in the yards of my friends. But there's nothing like a wild crocus persevering through repeated harsh winters, cold springs, and dry years bringing the promise of spring.

I love this picture. I wanted to include some of Sunny and Grandpa Bob together, but in most of them Sunny was trying to squint away the sunshine and not looking very happy in doing so. I really love this picture, though. Since my Dad didn't get to wear his wedding ring much while I was growing up (it isn't very safe for farmers to wear them), it makes it special to see it in this picture. I also love hands that have been worked so hard for so many years and yet are still so gentle to pick wildflowers with the fourth 2-year old now (Me first! Then came Auntie Laura, and, after quite a hiatus, Miss Mouse, and now Sunny Mouse).

Since my parents visited at Easter, Mr. T and I have learned that no one can push a swing like Grandpa Bob....even if we do it the same way....at least according to Sunny. This picture is Miss Mouse, but I thought it was fun.

Somehow Grammy escaped most pictures.....This will have to be rectified in the future.