We hopped into the car and drove for hours (okay, a smidge under two) on back roads along hill and icing-sugared dale, gawking at old farms and shaggy, winter-coated cows and ponies pawing hopefully at the snow. We were deep in farm country.
B had to pick up a bus, we were all bored, and the girl could nap. Why not?
So off we went. I was having fun, counting cows and tractors with the two, every once in awhile lazily thinking 'Hey! So this is where North Centre is!' Refereeing She won't give it back! fights, passing out water bottles. A lovely trip.
We pulled up outside a dairy and I got out of the car to stretch and toss a stick for the hopeful farm dog and was completely blindsided by my husband, who
(Sunnily! Devil-may-care!) told me I would have to come pick him up after his run on Wednesday.
Bear has this ability to find his way even on the smallest, bump-ridden two track, and I....do not.
He's going to have to draw me a map. A detailed map. One that includes mailboxes and major landmarks, and doesn't start with "And you head towards Halifax, then make a left towards Podunkville..." One that doesn't include the words you can't miss it.
Bear paused. "Well, how else am I going to get home?"