thankful

From here to Bakersfield by train on the day before Thanksgiving takes about four hours. And from Bakersfield the rest of the way home is another two by car.

Alice called the train a bus, and it was so big and so loud that she was afraid at first. She folded herself into my lap and looked up nervously every time the whistle blew. “What’s that?”

Just the whistle, we told her. Choo choo. And she put her head back down.

But after a while, she settled down. She spotted cows and horses out the window. She and her dad walked to the dining car and were gone for an hour, eating cheese and crackers.

She still is a little wary of a crowd, but she wants to be a part of it now. She wants to run with the kids and share their cookies and play with their toys and jump like they jump.

She ate a few bites of turkey after I started calling it “pollo.” She had two helpings of fruit salad and a scoop of sweet potatoes.

Funny story: There had been a small toddler tug-of-war over the hula-hoop, and even today when Alice looked at this picture, she wagged her little finger and said, "No-no, Boy." Sigh. It was not her best weekend for sharing. Gold star for Cousin Victor, though. He gave up the hoop and tossed in a kiss to go with it.

We got back home on Saturday night. As we hopped off the train and onto the platform, Alice waved and said, “Thank you, bus.”

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2 thoughts on “thankful

  1. Too bad trains don’t go choo-choo anymore. Or that phones don’t look like dial phones with holes that you can stick your finger in and turn, and with receivers you can pick up, anymore. Those were fun.

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