Lots of time slipped by since the last post, and we are home from Oregon. A trip as great and as full as the one we just took deserves many words, but I’m afraid that waiting for enough time to write a lot will result in not writing in too long.
But, if a picture is really worth a thousand words, then I’ve got 279 thousand word
right here. The pictures were mostly taken by Mother and by Misty, who enjoyed their cameras to the extent of over thirteen hundred photos.
A brief summary:
After the time at the coast, including a magnificent walk to Haystack rock
– real live starfish! and Ecola parks beautiful views, we spent a wonderful couple of days at Black Butte Ranch, riding bikes on beautiful trails, swimming, exploring a natural spring, and wondering at the scenery. It’s spectacular.
The last days were spent at Roderick and Misty’s home in central Oregon. Before catching our breath we were rafting the rapids of the Deschutes River, with daughter on the bow, or stern, or helm, or whatever the front of the boat is called, and Youngest squealing and yelling and shouting and loving every dip, splash, and minute of it. How many six-year-olds do you know who have gone white-water rafting?
We also enjoyed a wonderful lunch near the top of Mount Bachelor, dipped our toes and hunted for frogs at Todd Lake, and took a breath-taking walk along the Deschutes River.
There were also terrific “down days,” spent watching the Olympics, reading, and knitting, with the kids playing video games, and spending much time on Facebook and Youtube, resulting in a lack of good blogging time for yours truly.
Also in Bend, Oregon: Lots of great food. Lots of
great beer.
And the scenery in Oregon never stops taking your breath away, including the great views of the mountains at Roderick and Misty’s new home site.
We had one tough evening, when Eldest fell on one of the every present, ever razor sharp lava rocks. A trip to the urgent care resulted in four stitches in his shin. Traumatic at the time, but he’s fine.
An evening barbecue at our hosts’ home was built around sharing music, and Roderick and I were joined by several of their friends – and their kids - playing and singing in what was a very relaxed, very cool evening.
This was fun, but was also preparation for a gig with Roderick and his friend and musical partner Chris several nights later. We played outside a nice, music friendly restaurant, and I was surprised at how excited and enthused people seemed to be to stumble upon live music. I haven’t played out like that in a long time, and while I maybe tried to learn too many songs in just days before the gig, all-in-all it was a wonderful experience, fed by good beer, a beautiful evening, great friendship, good music, and an appreciative crowd that was larger than we expected.
This post does not do the vast entirety of the trip justice, but hopefully the pictures will help with that a bit.
Of all of the wonderful things: the scenery
, the adventures, the relaxation, the reading, the luxury, the food, the beer, nothing about the trip came close to the satisfaction we get from the fun, meaningful, and growing friendship between two families two thousand miles apart. It is only through Roderick and Misty’s generosity that this trip happened. They read this blog, and I thank them again for their hospitality and for our friendship.
And the beer. The really good beer.
At first my room was really babyish and it had baby paper around the walls. And then we decided to change it.
And the first thing we did was push all the furniture out and then take the wall paper off and then start to paint.
I like to find super heroes in it.
The one rule for Halloween this year: we would not be buying costumes. The kids could look around the house and come up with ideas, but we're weren't going to go to crazy- overpriced- no- return- policy- scary- bloody- temporary- Halloween- store to buy anything.
Of course, we had to buy the white hair spray. What luck! I got the very last can in stock at crazy- overpriced- no- return- policy- scary- bloody- temporary- Halloween- store.
We went to Bumma's neighborhood to trick-or-treat with cousins:
Unfortunately, no pix of Prince Caspian or Dale Earnhart Jr., cousins who joined us after cameras were put away.
Lots of time slipped by since the last post, and we are home from Oregon. A trip as great and as full as the one we just took deserves many words, but I’m afraid that waiting for enough time to write a lot will result in not writing in too long.
– real live starfish! and Ecola parks beautiful views, we spent a wonderful couple of days at Black Butte Ranch, riding bikes on beautiful trails, swimming, exploring a natural spring, and wondering at the scenery. It’s spectacular.
This was fun, but was also preparation for a gig with Roderick and his friend and musical partner Chris several nights later. We played outside a nice, music friendly restaurant, and I was surprised at how excited and enthused people seemed to be to stumble upon live music. I haven’t played out like that in a long time, and while I maybe tried to learn too many songs in just days before the gig, all-in-all it was a wonderful experience, fed by good beer, a beautiful evening, great friendship, good music, and an appreciative crowd that was larger than we expected.
, the adventures, the relaxation, the reading, the luxury, the food, the beer, nothing about the trip came close to the satisfaction we get from the fun, meaningful, and growing friendship between two families two thousand miles apart. It is only through Roderick and Misty’s generosity that this trip happened. They read this blog, and I thank them again for their hospitality and for our friendship.
fantastic kite flying while mist and fog went out and then came back in, making the bright stunt kite seem almost magical; some reading and hot soup; a bike ride on an old, rusty, woman's bike all over town (first stop: bike shop, for tire air); sand castle wars with plastic army men
; crazy attack of a kazillion birds on fish trapped in a tidal pool; an evening walk to a terrific dinner.
It’s almost too ideal, this moment here, sitting by a fire in a lovely quaint living room, over-sized windows to a sunset on the Pacific, wife with great new haircut doing crosswords over there. Roderick’s wife sitting doing Sudoku puzzles, quietly saying song titles to keep the music going as Roderick just there picks tastefully at a cool, black, graphite acoustic guitar. (A graphite guitar? Da hell?)
stopped a moment in Minneapolis, where I’m pretty darned certain I bumped into Bobby McFerrin, who has had a pretty profound effect on me in a whole lot of ways, but I wasn’t sure enough it was him to say anything. I don’t want to be the white guy who is wrong when he says to the black dread-locked guy "Aren't you Bobby McFerrin?"
, and then to the house from which I'm typing just this moment.
