I was never so grateful to be woken than this morning. Even if it meant that I had to take a cold shower (thanks Dad and Emm for using all the hot water) and rush out of the house. Oh, wait, did I say rush? Even though I was woken at 10:03 am (exactly) it still took the ‘rents until NOON to leave for Eugene. I scrambled through morning prep only to sit in front of the TV with my knitting for over an hour. Woot.
I took a picture of the new kneehigh spocks, which are ever so much better now that I have The Knowledge, en route:
Somewhere between Portland and Salem methinks – since I’m past the calf-shaping and nearly to the heel now AND I also managed to knit on my Discworld swap goodies as well (Dad is a really, really, really slow driver). We arrived in Eugene at 3 pm. Yes, 3 pm. Admittedly we stopped in Salem to get lunch, but… well, I have no explanations.
I was shocked to see the new state of the old house:
horrible garden beds we spent two summers slaving over?
The Passionflower Vines o’ Destruction?
Gone. (And I bet the bees are pissed)
Gone as well.
Along with: Mum’s saw-blades, various “artwork” and sculptures, the teak benches, all of the flowers in the house beds, and, well… everything. It was very surreal. Going In was weirder. The whole house had been repainted and recarpeted and re-I-don’t-know-what.
I helped Mum pack up her paintings, Dad move his cedar chest and the freezer, and Mum and I set out to defy Portland rushhour traffic. Which, strangely enough, we didn’t hit. At all. We got home less than 2 hours after departing from Eugene.
I realised today how much I miss the East Coast every fall as we drove down the I-5 corridor. That top photo tells it all. In Maryland right now it’s probably orange and red and yellow everywhere. Here? Green and grey. So dreary. I love Oregon summers, but the other seasons are lackluster.
Ohwell. I will see fall foliage once again. I’m trying to drag Mum out to Sauvie Island, which was covered in deciduous trees, in hopes of seeing something other than 50 shades of green and grey.
I know. I shouldn’t complain. In fact, right now I should be knitting – since I spent so much time today not knitting. What I need is a slave-driver with a drum, only instead of the chant being “stroke” or “row” every drum beat, it’d be “knit” (or “purl”).
Nah, doubt it’d help.