A Day Off

I got to drop the boys off at school today. I wonder if other mothers find that to be such a sacred thing to do. It's not because I am basking with excitement to have the day off, it's just that I never get to do that. I got to meet Ms. Margarita who, beforehand I've only heard, loves on Michael each morning as he arrives and before each departure at school. I'm glad that he just walks in and enjoys his routine. He loves Ms. Vivi, his teacher, but has a special bond with Ms. Margarita. Even though they barely know me, and I them, I am fortunate to have them love and care for Michael. Nathan was going to walk down the hallway all by himself to his classroom, which made my heart sink a little, but turned around after about 10 steps and wanted me to come with him.
I got back in the car and started to drive. No one told me to go anywhere, I had no schedule AT ALL, and I sort of meandered through the roads. Since it is close to the school, I drove by my grandparents' old photography studio and home, and except for a run down mini van in the front, it looks abandoned. Ike took one of the big trees out near the studio. No one has bothered to clean it up. I wondered for a while what the place looks like inside, and in a blink of a moment, thought about knocking on the door. Naah. I think I'd rather keep the mental images that I have from the past. I can close my eyes and picture just about everything. From there, and from my other grandparents' home. It is sort of like driving through a nostalgic, shabby town knowing that at one time it was a hoppin' place. That building had 30 or so employees, customers were coming in and out, brides and families and professionals would come in for portrait appointments, and grandchildren were almost ALWAYS somewhere. The shelves of silk bridal bouquets, the grandeur of the staircase, the storage closets, the placement of bedrooms and living areas upstairs, the case where photographs would be sprayed with aerosol (now they'd probably be considered carcinogens in a spray can), the spinning black trap doors that would lead to the dark rooms, the rolling chairs in the studio, and the volumes of proof books for customers to look at. The acreage in the back, for portraits primarily, also had plenty of room to make pretend play worlds under the tree canopies for us kids. It was a neat place to spend my younger days. From the looks of it, the yard is just a mess now. That building once had a life--a very vibrant life--and now its age and wear are showing. It's, well, alone and tattered. Deep sigh, move on.
I did some more driving around, and somewhat quickly came back home. This day is turning out to be JUST what I wanted. I think my brain has transformed into mashed potatoes, and I've not a care in the world. I thought about some new shoes...naah. I thought about venturing to the outlet mall...naah. I think I REALLY confused the dogs when I came home. I learned that they sleep after we leave in the morning because the piece of pop-tart that I left on the kitchen floor was still there when I returned. I NEED to get my oil changed. It's close to a craft store. I need thread. I half-laugh because the mundane act of getting thread is actually really appealing. So, off I go.