Giggles and bare feet on the dashboard

28 May

This week Mandy was talking about road trips over at Kyla‘s.

While I’m not sure mine qualifies as a road trip per se, it was quite the adventure.  I was thinking of this visit home the other day, merely because it was the weekend that I casually mentioned to my dad that there were jobs in Alberta.  He picked me up from school, we grabbed a burger and were chatting, and the next thing I knew he was telling my grandparents at their anniversary party that I was moving across the country.  I hadn’t even applied anywhere at that point.

Country music reminds me of summers back home: beer on the porch with friends in the summer, beachy trips, adventures or various random road trips (such as Dad’s inclination one summer to hit up all the small towns in Ontario with waterfalls).  And it reminds me of the time when Kitty (the baby sister) and I went prom shopping to find her a dress at the nearest mall (approximately 45 minutes away from home).

We had a great drive, singing along to tunes on the radio. We scored a classic, super cheap prom dress (Kitty is known for being thrifty).  We grabbed a bite to eat and called Mom to let her know we were beginning the journey home.

And then, we got lost.

We came out of the city a completely different way from how we went in.  We had no clue where we were.  We did not have a map.  And Kitty and I have a reputation for having absolutely no sense of direction.  It would seem as though we were doomed.  But Kitty and I giggled and pointed ourselves in the direction that we believed home to be in and went on our merry way.  We were keeping our eyes open for signs that we were on the right or wrong track.  We did come across a town with a gas station and thought we may find a map, but it was closed.  So, we just figured we’d keep going, and this is something how it went.

“Berlett Road? We know some Berletts! Good sign!” Keep going.

“Cows! We have cows! Good sign!” Keep going.

“Cemetary! Uh oh, bad sign, bad sign!” Turn.

“Wellesley: Home of Apple Butter and Cheese Festival. I like apple butter. I like cheese. That’s definitely a good sign!” Keep going.

“Abandoned house? Bad sign!” Turn.

“Oh look at that… military guys? Why are there military guys in camouflaged Jeeps in the middle of nowhere? They have guns? Um… good sign? … maybe?” Keep going.

Every time we spotted a “sign” we would burst into fits of giggles. And, strangely enough, we made it to “Anna Mae’s! GREAT SIGN!”  From there we knew exactly where we were and how to get home.  We managed to turn ourselves in the right direction amidst our travels and made it safely home.  We were torn between telling people or not as they may never let us take out the car or travel together again, but in the end decided that the story was far too hilarious to keep Mom out of the loop.  Others expressed their astonishment that Kaye and I survived.  Without a map.  On our own.  But we knew all along that we would make it, and we just enjoyed the ride.

Cheesy moral of the story: You don’t need a map, or a set of concrete plans to get where you are going.  Sometimes you just have to follow your gut, and be able to laugh along the way.

Kitty and I, summer 2008


2 Responses to “Giggles and bare feet on the dashboard”

  1. mandy May 28, 2010 at 11:51 am #

    So so so true! I am glad that you and your sister had a fantastic time and I deem a roadtrip anything further than a half an hour away from home — so yes, that most certainly classifies as a roadtrip. =) I love memories like that. Have a great weekend, lovely!

  2. andrea June 6, 2010 at 4:52 pm #

    To road trips, and finding your way. xo

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