There is a roller coaster at the pier at Seaside Heights in which you hop into a little car and a chain pulls you to the top of the metal structure with clicking and clacking noises. It perches you at the top and releases your car to swivel, swerve, turn and dip by the shear forces of gravity.
My mornings go the same way. Clack, clack, clack and then ‘Go!’. The same 7 chores, in the same order and then a turn here, a dip there, faster, slower. Almost always exactly the same and firmly attached to metal rails to ensure the same route each time.
The remedy to the predictable routine, is to go off of the rails. A sure fire way to do that is to leave town. Usually I try to get my family to do that as often as physically and financially possible. But not this time. This was my first solo road trip ever.
I was invited to a friend’s wedding in Vermont and I truly wanted to be there for the occasion. I have never driven that distance alone, rarely do much of anything without our whole family, Dennis or at least one kid, and had never slept in a hotel room by myself. I don’t experience many days without an extensive to do list and a great deal of domestic responsibility.

I am fond of trail signs.
The wedding I attended was beautiful and all you would want for a dear friend and I squeezed every single drop of fun out of 36 hours in Vermont – 3 hikes, a climb to the top of fire watch tower, a ride on a high and fast ski lift and a beautiful reservoir kayak excursion. I felt free and accomplished and renewed.
When I woke up Monday morning to no coffee and no way to make it, I simply grabbed a five dollar bill and walked the quaint main street of Wilmington, Vermont until I saw an open sign at ‘Dot’s’.
The coffee was great and the experience of having nothing else to worry about except for a cup of coffee was fabulous.