It took me three evenings to get it right. Last week a spring snapped on the garage door so it wouldn’t open and close. While I worked on that, my little white two seater had to park outside in the back of the lot nearly out of sight.

Someone vandalized the glass on the windshield and rear window with deep scratches.

This is how some individuals make their mark in the world. Of course, they would never do such deviant nonsense in front of me. They’re cowards, certain of their anonynimity. 

We have their kind till on this planet, it’s a fact. We also have fleas. As with fleas, we take certain precautions and invoke certain remedies to leave us free to enjoy the friends and family who make life a joy. At present, I find no greater satisfaction, though artistry pulls up a close second.

Saturday morning I got a call from my daughter. Her three year old got herself dressed and put on a coat and was waiting for me to come take her to the pet store first thing in the morning. It was the first that I knew about the outing.

I stopped what I was doing and went to get her in the Series Land Rover. For those who don’t know, that’s the venerable transport of Africa and other places without roads. It’s so unusual on American roads, the kids seem to prefer it.

As we steamed away, she in her Britax car seat and me in  my British car seat, she hollared, “Woohoo! Wee!” Our first stop was the pet store, where they have birds and traffic in catnip. We checked out all the collars to see if there was another like the one her family dog, a Maltese wears.  From there we checked out the birds. Parakeets go for $20, but Canaries were $150. Some of the other varieties were much more amusing to me than those two standards. One bunch were so active, biting and tasting everying they could fit a beak on. The large parrot sat in its malaise.

Then we met the cats that were for adoption. I wanted them all, but knew better. Cecilia just thought they lived there and asked me to read each of their stories as she engaged with the happy calico.

We bought the catnip and ran for the car. I say “ran” but that was simply the request. Cecilia does not know CPR, so I just walked fast.

She loves the little steps to get in the rig. There’s one on the passenger side and one at the rear.

Even though she complained that the air outside was cold, Cecilia insisted on sliding the window open and wiggling her tiny hand in the passing wind.

Mostly, I wrote that to show that “passing wind” can actually be innocent.

We obtained nourishment later, but only after shopping at the hardware store for an engine hoist.

When we left for home, she showed again that she was not going to be defeated by that fancy seatbelt harness. This girl does not want to be “little”. She loves to “do”. And that means she doesn’t ask for help with strapping in to her seat.

At the house, she made the usual rounds, petting creatures and eating before requesting the Ipod and mini boom. While she played song after song, we chit chatted happily and then I did a photo shoot to try to capture those pretty blue eyes. It was short, but productive. She’s both easy and impossible to work with in the informal shoots.

It’s different in a “real” shoot. She imagines that a real photo session involves a uniform of sorts, including a dress and her hair down. Today she was in jeans, so it was play. 

She sang, she danced, she laughed, and she jabbered constantly.

But finally, we retired to the safari truck and mozied back to her home, both quite happy.

This unplanned trip might never have happened today, except for the faith Cecilia had that it would. Some how she got it in her head that we’d already set it up and she acted accordingly. Some days, like this one, that actually bears fruit : )