Feeling sheepish about long driveways

Duh–Kirk told me late today that my last blog post should have been called “Poutine on the Ritz.” I apologize for this gross oversight in pun possibilities and promise to try harder.


Perhaps my favorite thing about this trip so far is the fact that I’m with someone who can take pictures of me in face cutouts. And vice versa. All the pics of me are on his camera, so he’ll have to start his own blog.


Kirk’s favorite thing about this trip so far are these chips.


They come up more often in conversation than any chip has a right to do. Except for the limited edition Lay’s tikka masala chips last year. Now those…sigh…I still dream of them.

Another thing I’m enjoying is the social experiment happening on the fronts of dumpsters around here.

Rock on, you buncha hippies, you.

Those pictures were taken in Tatamagouche. And just outside the Tatamagouche Brewery, there was a food truck featuring this delightful sandwich.

And yes, of course I ate it, silly goose.

Along the way, we stopped at the Balmoral Grist Mill. It’s a sweet little place in the woods with some great local ladies on hand to explain the operation in full detail.

* * *

Okay, so I’ve complained before about getting weirded out by small business in NS. You see a sign for, say, a quilt shop. You pull in and realize you’re a quarter-mile up someone’s personal driveway and there’s no obvious store. But now you’re committed and find yourself trying to figure out whether you are supposed to enter the house or what. It stresses me out. And so it was when Kirk entered the long driveway at Lismore Sheep Farm in Pictou. Nova Scotia small business PTSD kicked in and I started saying, “No! Don’t go in! You won’t know where to enter and it gets weird and I can’t handle it and…” Kirk pretty much told me to numb my nuts. And I’m glad because…

(1) Face cutouts!



(3) Border collie puppies!


SHUT UP! Best. Road trip stop. Ever. Thank you, Kirk, for making that happen.

And up the road from there: a lavender farm. I’m not the biggest fan of lavender, but only a person with no soul would not be moved by a beautiful field of purple, the hum of happy bees, and the calming scent of beautiful flowers growing across the street from open, expansive water.

Past that, we saw a sign for a “picnic park.” We considered it for a minute, turned around, and went back to check it out. Yeah, this is Nova Scotia’s take on a picnic park.


You should see the beaches.

The Northumberland Strait water is surprisingly warm, and it was great to walk into the water and not feel the quick numbing effect the northern Atlantic creates in New England. That and the green heads biting me with master precision hot sun, the sand between my toes, and the view of PEI in the distance. I’m 100% in my happy place.

And all of that driving led us to New Glasgow for the night. Just a highway stop, but the town is tiny and cute, and The Dock is a great Irish pub (in a Scottish town?).

It’s been a good day of random stops along an unplanned route, landing at a sweet hotel room without a reservation. For perspective, the ovals show where we started and where we ended up. Tomorrow: Cape Breton and rain…



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