Island Time

Nobody has ever described me as an early riser. My ambition and drive kicks in around 10 or 10:30 in the morning after a mug full of local brew. Even then, I don’t go through the world most days with a noticeable sense of urgency. Now Blake, Blake can wake up at the first ring of the alarm if he needs to. He’s probably the one you want to call if you have some morning business with either of us. But we’re not really living alarm clock kind of lives right now.

Island Time. Without the hustle of work or schedules, our natural clocks have isle-gned (someone call the pun police - I plead guilty) to a much slower pace. So inevitably, we found ourselves on some islands!

The San Juan Islands, that is. For three, grey but warm, lazy days we biked and ferry hopped our way through beautiful Lopez Island (aka “Slowpez Island"”) and San Juan Island. We thought we were on cruise control - you guys, we saw a farmer plowing his farm with a horse drawn plow!!! That’s island time AF. (Also - we bought amazing heirloom tomatoes and baby peppers from him at, yeah, Horse Drawn Farm).

The first time I’ve had to do math on this whole trip. Self-check out!

Though now that I think of it, farmers wake up hella early. I could not be an island farmer, unless they do their farming from like 10-2. Those would be ideal farming hours I think. Unless it’s cold. I couldn’t be a farmer in the cold either…

So what is the point of this story? A fair question, as I glance over the arc here. But I think the point is that there is none. We’re moving slower now, and we like it! Keeping the island state of mind as we keep truckin’.