My biological cousin Maggie wrote a post about her (and my) great, great, great, great, great grandmother today. It was really interesting to learn all the facts about my ancestors. Her last sentence really struck a chord with me, "Isn't it funny how just a sign on the road can make the day turn into an adventure?"

When I was 11 or 12, my family and I came up to the North East over spring break. We stayed with my brother's godparents in Waterbury, CT and made that our home base. We visited there but we also drove to Massachusetts and New York, including NYC.

There are a couple things I remember really well about the trip. One was the water from the faucets came out really cold. Coming from Florida, I wasn't used to that. Another was eating fresh brown eggs from their chickens. That was really neat. I had never gone out to a barn before and got an egg right out of a chicken's nest to eat for breakfast. I don't even think I had ever had a brown egg before either.

The thing I remember most is a green exit sign on the highway I saw as we were driving to NYC. It said "White Plains." I remember thinking about the town named that at the time and wondering why it was named that and if it did have white plains at one time. Every few months since then I have thought about that sign. When I would be driving I would see a green city sign and be reminded of the White Plains sign. I always thought it was odd that I would remember this particular sign, but it kept popping back into my head. I never told anyone about this sign because it was just such an odd thing. I didn't even know if the sign was in CT or NY. I never thought to look up where White Plains was because I was usually driving when I would remember the sign and then I would forget about it again before I got to my destination.

When I met Brian he was living in NYC and I was living in Orlando. We had a long distance relationship and then decided to get married. I had a big dog (Duncan) and two cats (Jordan and Rowan) and he had a hard time finding a place for us to live in the city that didn't cost an arm and a leg because of all the pets. He gave up and started looking in Westchester County.

One day he called and told me he found the perfect apartment for us. It was really big and had lots of natural light and it was within walking distance (but a little bit of a hike) to the train station for NYC and most importantly it allowed pets and was right across the street from a park. He said that he already put a deposit on it because he was sure I would love it and he didn't want to lose it. Then he told me it was in White Plains.

How wild is that? I had thought of the city of White Plains every few months for 20 years and then I moved there all the way from Florida. I never ever thought I would live anywhere but Florida and here I was moving to White Plains, NY of all places. I guess it was meant to be.