When I started to write about embracing my bohemian spirit, it reminded me that I’m getting close to the big 60! HOLY GUACAMOLE BATMAN!! SIXTY?!? As in SIX ZERO?! When and how the DUCK did that happen?!!?  A little side note here…. I texted my sister about the final episode of Walking Dead Season 7, and well, my prim and proper phone changed my colorful language to DUCK!! So now I can use the word “DUCK” around 5-year-old  Alice and not be worried she will pick up any bad habits from The Non. And on that same side note…… did you SEE the ending?! Did you SEE it coming?! ‘Cause I did NOT!! Okay, where was I going with this? Oh yeah…. sixty. 1 year and 30 days away. YIKES! Sixty. I’m sorry, I just can’t stop saying it. 60 ties in with the topic of today’s post. Which is being a hippie. Or my new description: Bohemian. I love that word. It screams free spirit to me. I grew up in the 60’s and 70’s and I identified with the title hippie. I mean, hello, the word alone is cool, it brings visions of Joan Baez, Stevie Nicks, Janis…