Oh Mappy. You wise old paper compass. You. With your intoxicating wild squiggly lines and endless numbered highways and names of places we never knew existed and shades of loveliest green and blue and white. The way you reveal yourself to me slowly like some sort of mystical shaman king and then at the last minute you REFUSE to be folded into proper shape. So headstrong and stubborn. That's just like you Mappy. Always the one to be in control. Even when I veer off course for two and a half panicked hours or so you are right there by my side in the passenger seat like a tour guide with no arms or legs waiting for me to glance over at you just as soon as I accept that I don't really know where the hell I am and that there is, indeed, a difference between North and South. Oh Mappy, we're a pair of crazy madcap travellers, you and I. Exploring our environs like a pair of excited squirrels. Going this way and going that way---sometimes fast like we're on some type of dangerous stimulant and sometimes frozen like a statue as if we've been hit by a stun gun. We have so much fun together don't we Mappy? You would never say I know the exit we were supposed to take was way back there JesusI told you!!! like some relatives I know and for that I will be your forever girl.