Hippies

On Monday, we went to Winco and ran some other errands in the big city. (And by big city I mean mid-size city surrounded by farm land.)

While we were checking out, Jake looked at the couple in line behind us, and whispered, "Look at those guys. They're totally hippies."

I looked. The guy had a beard, and they were both dressed really hipster/Bohemian. (Hard to tell the difference sometimes.) I shrugged. "Yeah, I guess they look a little like hippies," I whispered back.

Then we loaded 25 pounds of juicing carrots on the belt, along with 25 pounds of dry beans and some kale. While she rang it up, I checked to make sure all my curly tendrils of wild hair were still tucked under my bandanna-folded-into-a-headband. 

We loaded up our cart and left. The afternoon sun was really bright, but luckily I didn't have any makeup on to sweat off, since I hadn't showered that morning.

As we loaded our groceries into our beat-up car with the bike rack, Jake said, "That hippie guy sure had a nice beard."