Nov
29
As I type I’m looking out the window at a gloriously sunny day, the temperature is surprisingly balmy here in Coos Bay and the sky is a rich bet-you-didn’t-expect-this-in-November blue, and I feel like I should be strolling on a nearby beach and soaking up the salty ocean air and listening to that timeless sound of the waves rolling in, but parenthood revolves around naps and so the window will have to do for now.
Luckily, there’s plenty of time for both naps and seaside walks.
Yesterday at Bastendorff beach:
Same beach, April 2008:
Nov
28
Traffic was a pure misery during our drive on Wednesday, it turns out that there’s generally quite a few people trying to leave town the day before Thanksgiving. By the time we crawled through Portland we were stuck in a combination of rush hour and holiday gridlock and we finally abandoned all hope and ate dinner at a McDonald’s, and not even one of those well-groomed McDonald’s with a play area, just a filthy little highway stop with a bathroom containing what was maybe the most horrific collection of non-flushed toilet contents I’ve ever had the misfortune of being exposed to. Depressing.
Thanksgiving was nice, though. Riley was completely uninterested in eating a single thing or even sitting at the table (sigh), but the rest of us stuffed ourselves silly and had a great time.
We had another two hours to drive from Eugene to Coos Bay last night after dinner and while I’m happy enough to be here now I am even happier we don’t have any long trips planned for Christmas. I felt sorry for the kids, being stuck in the car for so long, and I felt even worse after I lost my patience with Riley during the last twenty minutes of the drive and threatened to smack him if he didn’t stop the goddamned whining.
The weather is cold but clear here on the Oregon coast and JB and I are going to try and go out to dinner tonight while the kids stay home with the grandparents. Riley went on a Jeep ride to the beach with his grandpa earlier, which got him good and geeked, and Dylan’s very busy scooching around the house looking for things to cram in his mouth. It’s all very laid back and mellow and pleasant.
Tomorrow I might get up at the crack of dawn and go hunting with the Menfolk. Not, you know, actually like creeping around with weapon in hand or anything, but just going along for the ride. I’ll be sure to let you know how that goes, assuming I don’t get trampled by a justifiably pissed-off bull elk. If anyone shoots anything, I’ll probably make a total ass out of myself by crying or some shit, so I sort of secretly hope their luck goes bad.
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