It has been a while and it is late at night but I gotta write this down before I ferget it...yes...in my stories sometimes I will use a redneck acccent...not sure why...maybe just tired...just like how I have decided it might be fun to do some of my shows with a british accent.
I will think better of this in the morning.
Where the fuck was I?
Oh ya.
So, one of my fave scenes in a movie...do not judge me people...see me through first...then judge...one of my fave scenes from a movie is the final scene in Castaway where Tom Hanks is standing on a bright sunshiny, warm day at a crossroads in the country...he is standing at of the hood of his car with a map and trying to figure out where to go.
So many possibilities.
An adventure.
George and I found ourselves with a day free...and because I had just divulged this info while watching the end of Castaway on AMC (it is a fucking classic now...fuck me.) with George...we decided that a fall adventure would be in order...no map...rent a car because ours is untrustworthy on long distance drives...pack a small bag and throw that and the dogs in the car and go.
I was so fucking excited I could spit.
Tyson wasn't convinced.
The day was glorious.
We talked, sang, laughed...sat in blissful, companionable silence sometimes.
We just drove.
We walked on the Bruce Trail, we drove thru Wasaga Beach.....which was just a ghost town...no wonder, the season is over...but I had such great memories of going there when I was a kid...it is so different now.
My mom used to somehow afford to bring the family up to a cottage for a week every summer for about 5 years when I was growing up.
I loved it.
Going there all these years later...telling George all about it and then driving into this boarded up summer town was strange.
We split a burger and fries at a diner called "50's and 60's Diner."...well, at least they are direct.
There was tons of 50's and 60's stuff on the walls...and a Harry Potter poster...and our waitress was named Ophelia.
We got back into the car and drove to Collingwood....
The best thing about adventure?
George saw the name of a road he liked and we turned down it...we came to the end...and there was this place...
It looks like it will be a condo project...but now it is lakefront... and empty.
It was a bit fabulous....spooky and wonderful.
And we ran around with the dogs....
Tyson found this catfish skull....
George and the dogs played and played while I took pics ....
I peed on the side of a rock.
No picture here.
It got dark so fast...back in the car...
Then George said he wanted Italian food...at and old style Italian restaurant...and when he said that we were in the middle of nowhere...on a county road...it was dark...
And I remembered a sign I had spied on the way up that morning along a two lane highway....
Yes!!! Oh yes.
It was so good.
The day was so good.
It really was.
Today...we drove to Ikea...an adventure in itself...in patience...
And we got cut off by some fucking wanker on the Gardiner (WILL THE FUCKING CONSTRUCTION IN THIS TOWN EVERY STOP?) ...he sped ahead of us...but in true Sharron Matthews, hang onto the anger, fashion...I watched him...I clocked him...and when George finally passed him...ten minutes later.... I opened up the window, leaned out, and gave him the finger LONG AND HARD....
George say, "You know there is a cop behind us right?"
Me say (as I look out the rear view mirror), "Holy fuck."
They ( the police) remain behind us for the next 10 minutes getting closer and closer to us.
George has me convinced that I am going to jail.
When they finally pass us and I cannot even look at them George says, "In a small way I kinda hoped they would pull us over....maybe you might stop doing that..."
Why he gotta curb my aggressive passenger seat expressions of....myself.
Like that would stop me.
Oh, I do love an adventure.
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