Potty Pix.

Sandi and I love what you might euphemistically call "car vacations", desirous partly because we don't have to fly ("If God intended man to fly, He would have given him..."), partly because we can carry all our ice chests, lawn chairs, special pillows, cameras, laptops, and the kitchen sink, and mostly because, well, we just like jumping in and exploring the countryside, mostly here in Bucks, Montgomery, and the surrounding counties, but in Central Pennsylvania, the Eastern Shore of Maryland, the Poconos, the New Jersey shore, Cape Cod, New England, and Canada as well.

And when you ride you gotta use the can. We know where all the public restrooms and porta-potties reside from the Inner Harbor in Baltimore to the tip of Cape Breton Island in Nova Scotia. Sandi takes just a little longer to use the facilities then I do, just longer enough to allow me to grab my camera and catch her coming out, something I've done about a hundred times in the last few years, the photos of which live in a folder on my computer titled "Potty Pix".

This is the one that started it all, all the pictures and the protestations: her coming out of the outhouse behind their cottage on Big Gull Lake in Ontario, Canada.