1.Roadtrip3
3-6Roadtrip.3

2.Roadtrip3

I took one more picture of Edward and Patrick because I love the way their pointy parts knitted together. Also they are starting to look a whole lot alike, aren't they?

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Today started off well. There was Caroline saying Yee-Ha in her cowgirl hat.

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And Canada.

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And more Canada.

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Over the past two years we have driven almost the entirety of the TransCanada (right, eh?) Highway - east and west - and I really must give it fifty thumbs up. Canada is so beautiful and so understated and everyone we have met is so freaking NICE that our plan is to head progressively north over the next few years to see even more of it. For Steve and me the first country on the list of places to visit before we die is New Zealand (mutually: singularly, Steve's is New Zealand; mine is really Scotland down by Isla because that is the land of my people, the McEacherns) but I'm pretty sure if we lived in New Zealand we'd want to explore Canada. 

Today, though, was just... sad.

As we moved from the Soo to Pembroke we were stopped a few times for road repair crews. When we were slowed to stop shortly before North Bay we assumed we were at another construction site. We waited five minutes, then ten, and finally Steve turned off the engine and asked me to play lookout by leaning out the window and watching the flag guy.

"Tell me when the sign turns from stop to slow," he said.

I looked. And looked. And looked. Eventually the guy put down his sign and walked away. We realized that we had a long wait ahead of us.

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We waited. And waited.

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We watched trains pass and waved frantically as the engineer blew his whistle for us.

Then we waited some more.

In all it took over an hour for us to move on but after we did so it was obvious that there had been a fatality, and the only thing that we could feel was grateful. Ten, maybe fifteen, cars ahead of us someone died today. They died in a dark green minivan. They died on a bright summer day. They died crossing a river that was particularly lovely.

You think: oh god I have to manage three crabby, grabby, screamy, stabby kids stopped in a hot car for over an hour.

You realize: dear god I get my three kids and my husband, together, for this hour - what a gift.

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