Every year around Christmas time I go visit my family in Newmarket, which is where I grew up. I prefer to take Highway 7 to get there: a more scenic route than the faster but more hectic Highway 401. It’s a long road, which passes through a mostly flat landscape of marshes, forests and small towns. If you’re lucky you can drive stretches of it with only a few cars for company, although every year it seems a little busier.
Newmarket is a bedroom community north of Toronto, Ontario. It’s a short 5-hours (or long 6 hours in baby-time) from Gatineau, Quebec. I like to think of it (and I’m channeling my inner geek here) as my “shire” as there are probably few areas in the world as safe and sheltered as Newmarket. That makes me smile. I know I’m always guaranteed a warm welcome when I arrive.
The sun beamed down on us as we made the drive this year. Margot took full advantage.
Love the term `shire`! It brings back visions of Hobbits and Middle-earth and all things from Lord of the Rings!
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