My dear friend Jackie O talks of finding home when running through fields of golden wheat on the family farm. I've lived in Ottawa a mighty mighty long time, but home is that spot where ocean waves meet land. Try as I might nothing really comes close. A sit by the river on a windy day if I close my eyes or sit just so, I can pretend, but I can see Gatineau on the other side... The river and I both know the mighty Ottawa is but a stand-in until I can make my way back home.
On Saturday, we crammed the Civic to the brim with stuff and, along with most of the National Capital region including the lovely Maven (who was staying in a very freaky Days Inn with dolls and dwarf armor), and headed east. Never did confirm where she was going... Ocean is probably enough.
It's a long drive, one I did at least twice a year in my youth. Driving through now, I can't help but indulge in a bit of "well, when I was a girl..."