It’s Tuesday. (I think…)

Losing track of time…

It’s Tuesday. Or at least I think it is, if I’m doing the math right.

It’s one of the things I most relish about our now-traditional week of Thanksgiving on the Oregon coast: the blessing of losing track of time and date, surrounded by family, and the calming influence of sand and waves and salt air.

Ian at Cape Kiwanda, OR
Ian at Cape Kiwanda, OR (November 2018)

Home Stretch

We made it as far as Baker City in eastern Oregon yesterday, about halfway home. We’re definitely not on the coast any longer: it’s light early (being on the the extreme edge of the timezone) and there is a heavy layer of frost on everything. Breakfast at the Lone Pine, followed by another 400-ish miles with a short break in Twin Falls to see my mom, get fuel (for the car and us), and then we’re home.

Past Two Days

Two days of wind and rain; long beach walks in the wild weather, coming back wet and wind-blown; enjoying the always shifting tide and light; watching eagles wade in the slough/creek that crosses the beach just north of here; reading, playing the pinochle game that never ends, and time together. We’ve much to be thankful for…