Wasn't going to take my silver bracelets but you know- they demand to be worn on trips they sing on the road, out of town, they are the tinkling music of our travels together.
Owen told me yesterday that I kiss and hug him too much. Okay, I said. I'll stop kissing and hugging you so much. What I will do is kiss and hug you more.
He tolerates me.
We are packed up but nothing is loaded. There is really no hurry. Services are not until tomorrow. Back up the roads through Alabama, country roads, fine and four-laned, you can get off anywhere. Stop, stop, pee, coffee, I will make another nest in the back seat. I will read aloud for hours and hours and hours.
Hank is coming with Elisha to take care of the chickens and dogs and cat and goats (not really) and bluebirds. Jason's birthday is tomorrow. We will miss it. We will miss him, that fine father, that good husband, that man whom we have come to respect as well as love.
Owen was going through the birthday list yesterday. Daddy's birthday first, then Boppy's, then yours. Are you going to have a party?
I just give parties, I told him. I don't really have them for myself.
But you need cake, he said.
Cake is good, I agreed. Everyone needs cake.
I'll be on the road for my birthday too. Up to Asheville. For someone so in love with her own house, so magnetically inclined to stick to her own two acres, I certainly seem to travel a lot.
We might have our breakfast at the Waffle House. Why not?
Time to go.
Back up to Nashville.
Let's all be safe and then come home for kisses, hugs, cake.
I'll be talking to you.