Here In Oregon
Saturday. To encapsulate: on the road at nine, arrived in Lake Oswego before noon having forgotten my beat up old Pendleton shirt (no loss) and probably my glasses (foolish me, how am I comfortably going to read the papers?), Ms. Emmy safely quartered in my bedroom at the house (did I mention my sister has a Golden Retriever the size of a small garage who likes cats, but at his size is as intimidating as hell to a small Oakland resident who hasn't been outside her house for five years?), I contemplating a couple of glasses of wine to ease into the evening. Arrival in Portland (Lake Oswego) has been accomplished! Did I mention it started raining thirty miles before I arrived? I didn't? Probably because I really didn't have to, this being Portland (my apologies to their tourist bureau).
Sunday. OK, up this morning driving to a Starbucks for the papers and a cafe latte (when I realized I didn't know the wereabouts of the one pair of glasses I'd brought), sitting now having read the papers (slightly more slowly than I might otherwise). Spent much of yesterday with CNN and MSNBC on in the background reporting election results. I don't normally watch either, as I don't have cable at home. Who are these people? Is this how America gets its news? I'd be appalled, except I know it's the function of old folks over sixty to be appalled at most everything they see, my reaction falling well within the old fart norm, my news being news along the lines of - “The sky is falling! The sky is falling!” - as in no news at all.
But that's all right. I am now in Oregon with a bunch of cameras, no glasses (The motel is sending them Monday), no stock of photographs to call upon when I need a photograph for the top of the page forcing me out to take some, this laptop somewhat cumbersome (I've noticed) without an external mouse and maybe a keyboard (such things are available I'm told, even in Oregon), an aching head (nothing new) and an opportunity for growth, to get my act together while drinking up all of this tea I packed for the journey. Yes, the Gunpowder, but also the baggy of loose Chinese green tea given to me to try by Ms. V and the box of something called PG Tips that Mr. E seems to like so well. Excellent augments for changing your ways. Shooting different pictures. Writing better prose. Adding variation and character to one's line of B.S. Here in Oregon.
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