It was a little bit of a challenge, to be honest, making a mix tape to myself. But I got into it. I looked at the stacks of all those CDs that haven't made it onto my computer. Paused and considered all those lyrics and melodies that meant so much once upon a time. The first mix is a compilation of more than 20 different female musicians in my stacks. I tried to pick an up-tempo driving song from each record. No hidden messages. No deeper meaning. Just drive. The second mix is a compilation of about 15 Ani DiFranco CDs. I went in the order that they were released and selected 1 or 2 songs from each record. I can't wait to listen to it! She's been one of my favorite artists since college and I'm impressed with how both her music and and her stories have changed over time while yet maintaining a continuity of meaning, conviction, and beauty.
I rarely get to listen to music. Little N is so sensitive to sound and so keen to control his environment that he pitches a fit if I turn on some music. And I haven't loaded all of my CDs onto my work computer, so I only listen to a fraction of my music library there. I've still got some blank tapes so I see a few more mix tapes coming up. Maybe with themes this time, little messages to myself, about self care, "dusting off your power" as my friend says, having fun, growing up, and loving.
All that to say - I have a car again! I lost the Volvo in the divorce. Surveying a long summer of carting around Little N and wanting to get to my own friends and events, buying a car was mandatory. With the help of my lovely Miss A, I found a sweet little Toyota Corolla in fine condition and eager for more years of scooting through the city. Our primary destination is the beach. Even today, under grey skies and intermittent downpours, we drove down there to sit in the car and read or play on the iPad. Little N was reluctant. Something is up with him and going out these days. But I'm hopeful that consistent little outings will start to melt his resistance and remind him of the anchor of fun, familiarity, and even solace (for me) that our beach routine provided last summer.