Oregon

And so it goes. A mad dash (or so it felt) through that Oregon, over and done. Certainly, it was not without it's memories. Surprising no one, I've lost my camera again, so the photos that follow are all borrowed shots and throwbacks. Highlights of the life in the green:

1. My 'welcome home' backyard barbeque- a week before I left again. A gentle outside, fed drunkeness with friends that begin to turn into family.

Similar happenings in 2007. Meghann Miller: she's got hot gams and the cutest blog ever

2. Monday night in Colonel Summers Park on 20th and Belmont drinking those new Session Blacks (watch out for them- and I mean that in every sense of the world) on short grass with Sunny and my lovely bearded boy. It was near enough to overwhelm a girl with the nouveau-Portland of it all. Phalanxs of double-decker art bikes, ironic grandma/hillbilly outfits and pet ferrets- a true hipster parade. Where do these people come from? (Answer: Iowa. And Beaverton.)

3. A rapturous, bittersweet road trip with Erik bound in a circuitous route to Cali, with stops at strange metal sculpture shops in McKenzie and at Sahalie Falls in the Willamette National Forest. If the United States has one thing to be bullishly, opaquely proud of, it can be it's national park system. Not only were we the first to designate national parks, with the incorporation of Yellowstone Park in 1872, but in no other country in the world can senior citizens pull their trailer into a parking lot right off the highway and stroll 100 meters to this. Bravo, leaders of the free world:

Clearly, I did not take this picture. But I'm thankful to those who don't have the same issue with property retention. Thanks, Michael Hatten!

4. We made another stop off in the crunchy enclave of Eugene, for my first "peer group" wedding. If it had to be somebody joining that crazy institution called marriage, at least it was Dain and Wakan. They rock. Since we are big on the solemnities of the ritual of love, we bought Mr. and Mrs. Alferes a race car pinata from Woodburn and filled it with plastic dollar store swag, Mexican candies, peanuts and "nips." Felicidades, D and W. Your party actually left me less terrified of matrimony. And I dug the poi dancer that had his "fire stick" on a yo-yo. Eugene, Oregon: if you are going to hippie, hippie here.

Wakan had to grab a Tanqueray nip from a youngster shortly after we bashed her race car to festive, boozey bits

5. Rounding out the grown up panorama was a stop off in Bend to see Gena's new(ly purchased!) home. My little homeowner has set herself up grand in the land of dramatic mountains and lazy day tubing. The house is fab, but her primary accomplishment is the purchase of a fat orange cat with one eye. His name is Captain Uno. After she reads this she will send me a picture of him, preferably with his bowtie on.

Arrrrr! Thanks, Gen. You are a prize peach.

Oregon. The Beaver State. Stumptown, Tracktown, Nutrias, Craft Beers, Big Trees, Bigger Ideas. Hicks, Hippies and Hipsters. Your daughter will be back someday soon. Save some rain for me.

Flopping about in wipeout waves of adoration,
Caitlin