Confessions of a woman who married a hippie.

We didn’t make it to SmallTown yesterday because it was midnight and we were still driving somewhere across the middle of nowhere in America. Don’t worry, I didn’t provide any of the directions. Back home in Canada I’m known as the girl who, after 2years, couldn’t figure out which way is home when leaving her office. Yes, yes there was the whole bike tour incident where BestFriend and I went from Blaine to Bellingham back to Blaine then to Bellingham and well, yes maybe to Blaine again. Perhaps hand drawn maps and internet instructions aren’t the way to travel in a foreign country, but heck it worked in Spain. The thing is when all there is is road or farms as far as the eye can see – there isn’t much navigation involved. You just drive east. Last night, HippieHusband and I stayed at a rest stop along the highway somewhere in Washington up in the pop tent of the brown Westfalia VW van that we drove. FriendofHippieHusband was really kind and drove with us to Seattle, we dropped him off at his OTHER brown Westfaila VW van and then headed eastwards. I think ten years ago I never would have expected that I would hang out in a VW van, in fact I remember thinking to myself – who are those ne’er do wells and why don’t they shower? Now look at me – I’ve married one of them. And yes he does shower. A long haired, Birkenstock-wearing, murse-carrying, guitar-playing hippie, who looks right at home in this VW. Admittedly, I only teeter on the granola-loving lifestyle what with the yoga and meditation. But sleeping in the VW van at the side of a highway - hippiness takes on a whole new meaning.

At 10:15am we arrived at our new. After unpacking the few boxes we brought with us, we discovered that we have four plates but no forks. We had dress shirts but no underwear. One thing we do not lack is space and sheep. We have sheep in our backyard. Four to be exact two black and two white. And oh yes, the occasional horse. Welcome to your new home GirlPostdoc.