It’s Friday night in the adventure capital of the world! We’re young! We’re alive! And we’re drinking black tea at the kitchen table, sewing curtains together in our underwear.

Sometimes it’s hard for me to pinpoint exactly whose life I’m leading. Am I a retiree on the road for the winter with my mister, the slow van everyone passes on the highway? Or is my existence closer to that of a young lady in old world Britain, spending my days devouring a small library of literature, penning letters to my dear friends, and improving upon on my needlework skills? Certainly I can’t be a 20something on “the trip of a lifetime,” can I?

Spoiler alert: you bet, mofos.

And I’m loving every luxurious, languorous moment as we slowly traipse and traverse across the countryside.

-K

^ Two of those luxurious, languorous moments. Making flower crowns in a field with a sweet, little French girl + meditating on huge limestone formations in the middle of nowhere.