​Me, eating an egg McMuffin, at the beach, in my car, alone, on a Saturday afternoon.  This instance of peace and luxury thanks to a fine young man called The Babysitter.   

- this
Brought to me by 
this -

Oh, I'd forgotten the freedom and immediacy, the speedy access to things I love, that only a car can provide!  Here it is Mother's Day morning, Little N is with his dad, and I am spontaneously slipping into my car (MY CAR) and driving down to the beach for some blessed, beautiful, salty breeze, sandy toes, cold coffee and a cigarette time at the beach, alone.  

Last summer the beach meant solace from a loveless, downward spiraling, riddled with incompatibilities, the end-is-near marriage.  Little N could play freely and safely along the shore.  I would finally feel my lungs open wide with deep breaths of ocean air and I'd relax.  Life simplified to the rhythm of the waves and the call of the gulls.  

This summer I hope for some of that same simplicity, comfort, and joy that only hours at the beach gives me and Little N.  While the divorce is still in process, a new beginning is already progressing and it should be baptized with sand and waves and child's play.  All this via a sweet little 2000 Toyota Corolla that another family didn't need anymore for their adventures.  Now it and its new adventures are ours.