I packed up the little ones to look at some church pews in Rutledge on Saturday. As excited as I was to roam the giant antique barn, anticipating a lucky pyrex find, it became the hum of the tires that kept me savoring the day.
Memorizing the sound of my babies. Giggling, singing, burping. Rolling down my window and hoping for a sunburn on my left cheekbone. Writing the stories for the faces that built the old abandoned homes along the treeline, and smiling at the visions of kids in bloomers running to the barn carrying a basket of beans and cornbread for dad.
I love old things. And little voices.
My favorite part was peeking in the rear view mirror. Watching Kacie sleep, making up her dreams, and locking the innocence of Joey's quiet stares out the window in my brain forever.
It was a good Saturday.