So, I left for Seattle last Monday to attend the aforementioned airport party, fully intending to be home by noon the next day. Instead, noon-the-next-day found me in Ryegrass, Wa, well East of the Cascades and well on my way to Heron, Montana. Don't ask me how, it was just one of those spontaneous Summer adventures. It needed to be done.
I love road trips, and this one boasted Christina's World hills and houses, sagebrush, a Jane Says father-daughter sing along, and a "Keepin' it Real Taxidermy" storefront. In short, jackpot. Our time in Montana was lovely. Old friends of my parents' live out there, without television, computer or cell reception, but with hot sun, thunderstorms and wilderness. Certain moments found me curled up with a plate of lemon pie and this or this. Others found me barefooted in the creek catching frogs. Not to mention flying through the woods in the rain on horseback. (Yes, I'm one of those horse girls who never grew out of it, and running in a warm downpour was the realization of something old and dear.)
My dad annually builds these river rock towers/sculptures. This year, in the 2 days we spent he erected at least 20. He goes into this Zen state and the stones just balance beautifully. Despite the ease and grace of both the art and the artist, these babies are strong. Our friends have sent pictures of them in the snow, and say they don't topple until the spring highwater rush. How cool is that? Our time out there was ultimately relaxing. Our nature walks revealed robin's eggs and strange orange mosses and birch trees with impossibly bright bark. Seriously, do we even have birch trees in Washington? or are those dingy lovelies actually conifers in disguise? Our nature walks also revealed my son's inhereted fart joke humor - "Oh, I thought it was a bear!" I started resisting this annual trip early this year. Like in February. I started putting my foot down to my parents, making it perfectly clear that my son and I would not be with them this time. So much for that, and I was wrong anyway. I'm already looking forward to next Summer.
There WILL be Downhill Skiing by Thanksgiving
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