|Tubing this past summer, one of the van's last great adventures.|
Now that I am no longer driving my living-room around town can you even recognize me? I'm in a normal, everyday, same as everyone else mini-van. Look for the curly hair. But wait, my friend, who also has curly hair and who looks more like my sister than my sisters, has the exact same car (except for the big dent in her hood, but that's another story.) So you might have to call me on my cell phone to know if it's me. I do have one now that everyone else has a smart phone. Don't worry. I'm catching up but I'm not passing anyone on the road to technology.
In honor of this passing era, I am hosting a guest blogger, my oldest daughter, Sophie. Here are her words about the van.
An Ode to the
We have had the purple van as long as I can remember. It has driven us to many, many places: the park, Baskin Robbins, Minnesota, more than I could list. We have dirtied it and cleaned it again, scraped ice off its windows, and sprayed it clean on hot summer days.
It is big enough to give our friends rides. The Moodys, the Haleys and the Jaeger cousins are only a few that have adventured in our egg plant colored car. Songs have been sung, stories made up, jokes cracked, pictures drawn, games played, and lots and lots of talking and chatter in that van. It has carried baseball, basketball, and soccer players, been muddied by laughing tubers and singing waterfall visitors. It has visited warm beaches, snowy roads, orange pumpkins and a hot day at a giant tree house. It has carried us well and been trustworthy.
We love it.
Big purple van:
I salute you.
|Our last moments quite literally in the van as the buyers walked up during this photo!|
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How about you? Have you had any shifts in your demographics lately?