Today I left Lincoln, VT and drove to Plattsburg, NY. It was a scenic ride all the way, from marshmallow fields forever to the Ausable Chasm, from Lake Champlain to majestic mountains. I snapped some photos, but there is so much that just filled my heart to the point where a couple of times I thought I was going to cry.

As I was making my way up yet another long, steady incline, I passed a man walking his bike. It was hot out and all I could see ahead of me was up. I trusted my intuition, pulled over as much as I could with a narrow shoulder and stopped, much to the dismay of drivers who now had to go around me. When he caught up to the open doors, I asked him if he wanted a ride. He was grateful. I had never stopped part way up a hill before, so I had no sense of how well it would go, but Karma did well.

He and I got in a few words over the sound of the skoolie. His name is Adrian, he’s 31, and he wants to be a healer and offer his services to those who need it. When he learned I was a witch, he asked if I would answer some questions about candle magic. What were the odds of that happening??!?? How did the universe line it all up? It blows my mind.

As he prepared to disembark, I grabbed my box that looks like a vintage leather bound book (A gift from my sister I could not let go of.) that's full of oracle and tarot cards of all sorts. "Pick a card, any card," I tell him.

He reaches in and pulls out the Ace of Cups. What are the odds? I felt light and full of joy as I explained aces and cups and told him that based on what I know, I could very well indicate his healing path is about to begin.

(By the way, if you have broken or unwanted tarot decks, I would be happy to buy them for postage and then some.)

So, I leave him off and continue on to the family hosting my stay tonight. As I pull in, the wife comes out to show me where to park, and she’s all excited. “You’re bringing back a lot of old memories,” she said. I asked it if was because she’d driven a school bus. The answer was yes and no.

Seems their company converted a school bus into living quarters for construction crews working distant jobs. There were bunk beds and a wood stove with a hot water system. I think there was a kitchen, too. In the summer, the couple would take off in it with their children.

Her husband came out and they both just gazed at the bus the whole time I hooked up the electricity, yet declined my invitation to come aboard. But what were the odds? I mean, really? How many people had skoolies in the 1960s? And what were the chances that of all the hosts in this organization, I would drive my skoolie into this one?

She was wearing a T-shirt that said, “Life is good in a bus” or maybe it was “on the road.” Anyhow, it was perfect. We parted with her wanting to get their rig rolling again, and me wanting to get a shirt like hers.

What are the odds I’ll find it?