Oregon

As the title implies we spent the month of October visiting family and friends in Corvallis and enjoying showers, not just the liquid kind with soap and shampoo, but showers of love and generosity. Seriously didn't have to lift a finger whatsoever. I guess there was a lot of fork and spoon movement.

Our favorite part of our luxurious reverse vacation, trading travel for domesticity, may have been its unexpectedness. The reason you may be reading this months after the fact is not due to writerly lethargy but a masterful conspiracy. We didn't want to give away our actual coordinates fearing people would notice a general trend towards our home State. The family, along with most everyone, was under the impression we were in Utah. They called, while we were sailing past Albany, to harass us on updating the blog. Isaiah promised a full report that very night, he compared the weather with Aunt Barb and noted how strikingly similar the weather in Corvallis was to where we were and saying we had to scope out our camping spot for the night we knocked on the their door. It wasn't until Aunt Barb stopped screaming and began breathing, only when she relinquished me from a death grip she called a hug and Mom was able to rationalize our seeming teleportation from Utah, we were able to assess our devious surprise as not, as it first appeared, a very, very bad idea. Everyone still alive, it was time for sister. Lured over by non existent pie I forced a slasher movie scream out of her when I torpedoed out from behind the couch. Later my friend Annie was dumbfounded to find I was not only back home but had gotten a job at the Panda Express as I offered to fill her soda. Next into the trunk of the car. Leaping out when friends Tabatha and Laurie opened the back to help Annie unload some "luggage". The best, though weirdest, surprise I saved for Lizzie, the friend least suited for bizarre punking.

Costumed in what can only be described as a bad idea with a poncho, pajamas, and a smart sock sandal combo as flair, I took to a street corner holding a cardboard sign featuring an arrow and the entreaty: "won't you take me to funky town?" My co conspirator Annie pulled over to pick me up with Lizzie in tow, telling her she knew me from her volunteer work at the homeless shelter. This was the least odd element of the plan as Annie would and has done this very thing before. I attempted my best "Sling Blade" accent complimenting the lovely lady's on their pretty mouths, but dissolved into laughter. Lizzie took the situation gracefully, but along with wondering how I had ended up back home she must surely have been wondering how she had ended up friends with me in the first place.

It was a great trip and difficult to leave but revived and with reserves in our bellies we eventually said our goodbyes and reunited with the road. Miss you all.