Weekend highlights:
-- Hot springs (almost) all to ourselves. Apparently the piles of snow scare the bears off, but not me. I am officially a cold tub slut. Much like a Thai salad roll is to peanut sauce, the hot pool for me is just a conduit in order to get to the cold tub. The Breitenbush trip involved a lot of sleeping (bedtime at 8:30, up for breakfast and morning pools, then nap, then more pools, then second nap), a lot of eating from their delicious, communitarian, made-with-love hippie vegan buffet, and the rest of the time alternating between hot and cold amidst the snow and the fir trees with the river raging a hundred feet away. At one point Erin was concerned I may have had a heart attack because I'd been in the cold tub so long -- but I just like it that much (after the first time, granted that's a bit painful, but once you're warmed up, it's goodness). Damn, it's just so relaxing. I was like a pile of mush when we left.
-- I chopped more than eight inches off my hair in Portland. Haircuts are one of the things I've put off for the last several (six?) months, so getting "shorn" as Erin described it and getting lots of kicky layers makes my whole head feel lighter.
-- Homemade Indian feast was a terrific success -- dahl, cauliflower masala, curry naan, tamarind sauce, cilantro chutney, jasmine rice, and many, many, many samosas. I felt like a curry-scented fry cook by the end of the afternoon, but the birthday boy loved it and it was even topped off by his favorite, lemon meringue pie. I love other people's birthdays.
-- Back in the hometown, I was touched that the Christmas street decorations are still the same lighted tinsel candles my town has used since I was a little kid. This is no doubt partly because it's really freaking poor and there's no way they're ever getting new ones, but I found myself feeling fonder of my little community than I have in many years. The canned food warehouse outlet (our only grocery store -- just try to find produce there), the espresso drive-thru that cropped up just after I moved away and is still kicking, and especially the lights on the trailers in the parks -- I find them far more loveable and comprehensible than say, the mansions around here with their fields of lights arranged by fleets of undocumented gardeners, or the $7 price of a bunch of grapes at the yuppie grocery stores in town. That's right, even when I'm in a great mood, I can't stop ripping on the rich, yo. That's just how I roll.
-- Police blotter in my hometown paper listed as stolen recently: "A mounted bass, Dale Earnhardt alarm clocks, bedspread." Multiple Dale Earnhardt alarm clocks, people.
-- One of the most enjoyable typos I've ever seen in a student paper:
"After Pedro Alvares Cabral's shit hit land in Latin America, which was considered the first discovered sea route to Brazil, Portuguese settlers introduced sugar cane to the surrounding areas."
Indeed.
5 comments:
That is one intriguing little creek. What pray tell is it's name?
multiple dale earnhardt clocks - that's like multiple Dolly water jugs. heh. okay, that was bad. but you're right...that's sad.
That's the Breitenbush River -- it is really beautiful, you drive over it on the way to the camp and then it runs through the middle of camp, right past the springs. On the other hand, you pass by Detroit Lake on the way there also, and it's not so much beautiful as totally dried-up at the moment. Water levels are shockingly low, sadly.
Sounds like a perfect get-away!
Low water resiviors are disgusting. But I find them facinating at the same time. When the water is down you can actualy see the shape of the land before the army corps of jackassary got ahold of it.
That creek is very pretty, It has been added to my list of must visits before I move from Oregon.
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