We're finally having a little bit of Spring around here. It brings us flowers
(including true-to-life teenage flowers that like to take selfies:)
and along with the usual renewal, this year Spring has brought us a notable replacement. Our faithful old van retired, to be replaced by this marvel of Japanese engineering:
It is sleek and sound and filled with modern gadgets (back up camera? check! bluetooth integration with everyone's phones/music? check! voice command calling? Holy smokes-- I can do that too!) and a host of clever little storage places and we already love it. But you can't just dump a van that's been part of your life longer than half of your children without feeling the pain of separation, and I did not take the parting of the ways well. A friend of mine captured the experience perfectly: it was like handing your dog over to the shelter and the sense of responsibilities abandoned was icky indeed. I have mostly stopped worrying that the car was lonely, scared, and confused over its fate, but every once in a while I'm zapped by a pang of regret and I wish there were a way to have a decent retirement party for our less animate companions and know that everyone was going happily on to the next phase. Even if that phase is the scrap yard.