the Portland trip

My dear peeps, I will tell you some more.

What was valuable to me wasn't very public. Mostly moments like when O was licking his arm with such intense fervor, when A liked my description of Paul's pet chicken as little and cute, or when C said, "I think this might be a funny one," and the four of us laughed as Dad made a show of running with the pirate-paper paper airplane held high.

Less intimate favorite things were seeing the famed Powell's and our first views of the city, evaluating how big it is. And the happy embrace to see my old friend ARG. See, that's personal again!

Erik played light sabers and T-ball, suiting up each boy in the complex catcher's gear, wearing a black batting helmet, reading to them about Star Wars and a Junie B Jones book. We had some perfect pastries and some good gardenburgers and the wonderful pasta with fresh basil and toasted pine nuts and tomato paste, rich and lovely even without garlic, as the boys ate pizza rolls and crunched carrots. Their house is beautiful. Really a weekend could not be better.

So that's all I'm writing, and you can request my journal entries or ask me about it on the phone.