Don’t ask me where Route 7 is exactly or which route in what area or whatever it was. We weren’t exactly sure but we drove down it anyways. The road wasn’t made out of broken glass so we were taking it. As we were motoring along we started to pass the ocean with it’s spectacular views and ocean-y smells. Mr. C. Cow was enjoying the smells so much that he had his head out of the passenger window. Giant cow tongue flapping in the wind while he made this “Snnnrrffffff” sniffing sound to take it all in. Mr. C. Cow is funny sometimes and it was a beautiful day to be funny.
As we kept driving down the road we started noticing sand on the road. The farther we went the more sand we ran into. At one point we might have been driving on the beach that just happened to have pieces of a road sticking up out of it. Mr. C. Cow found this amusing but I didn’t. Not only was it slowing our camper down it was also sticking to his tongue. I explained that you cannot keep smelling the sweet salty air and not expect to get a tongue full of sand. He just said he’d brush it out later.
Instead of freaking out about the possibility of sand getting on everything I decided to take a deep breath. Relax. Meditate. Om. Taking a page from the Mr. C. Cow book we pulled over and built a few sand castles by the side of the road. When life hands you lemons make lemonade. Just don’t get any sand in it.
Location: Route 7