Road Trippin'

You know, when you've just had it and the days are long and your brain is tired and you're just gonna

snap?

So you decide to leave the kids with the hubby, get in the van and see where it takes you?

Yeah, I thought you'd know.

I set off on a quest for peace, quiet and think time.

I aimed for a rejuvenation of the spirit.  I also hoped to prove to myself

that I wasn't an old fogie, scared to step out of the box and be wild and adventurous.

I was afraid I'd turned into one of those.

My adventure started out innocently enough, with a drive down Broadway.  

This dog in the window perfectly set the tone for my adventure.  

Carefree, rebellious, devil-may-care.

Remember when they didn't have laws and you could ride all the way to 

Florida sunning yourself in the back window of the car?

Right, never been to Florida. But I've been down Broadway.

Adventures are always more fun with friends.  

I picked up my fellow road tripper on the way.

We saw a Bookmobile!  Very similar to a Batmobile, only so much cooler.

It's filled with books!  That you can borrow!  

Baby A. loves books.  

Beauty and order in unexpected places.

Emu farms, just begging to be discovered.  Emu farmers telling tales.

Wannabe hippies and the stores that fit their needs.  I finally bought myself a pair of

Thai Fisherman pants.

I love.

E. helping herself from the orginal roadstand.  We're so alike.

I've never known anyone else to jam on the brakes of a car

just to get out and collect weeds.

You must collect weeds.  Especially tasty ones.

Only in rural New Brunswick would it be considered safe 

to ask the advice of a burly man in a pick up when lost.

Only in rural New Brunswick would it seem perfectly fine

to follow the washed out cow trail with only the promise

of high tide beaches at the end.

Low and behold.

Burly men in pickups rock.

The ocean.  There's naught like it.

We quickly became beach bums.

Crabs, though delicious, were replaced with pizza for supper.

And crepes for dessert.

Have you had crepes, lately?  No?

Run, run, to the nearest crepe stand.

Or my house.

I can make you crepes.  Oh, yes, I can.

Without E. and the power of friendship and roadtrippin' bravado

I would never have experienced this jaw droppingly beautiful yarn store.

I wish I'd taken pictures of the handmade buttons.

Drool.

Remember how we brake for weeds?  We brake for this, too.

Artisan Village.

Two words that make my heart go pitter patter,

and my foot to involuntarily smash the brake pedal to the floor.

Seriously.  This belongs in my house.

I only dream of making such beauty.

Last stops to old love nests reveal tiny shops and friendly antiquitaires.

Christmas presents and memories buried in every corner.

Then home, with a lighter spirit and a hopeful heart.

It does a soul good to get away.