(excerpt) When we woke up this morning the air was heavy with coastal mist. The thickness of the fog coupled with the sounds of the sea ushered in thoughts of the primordial shore. I imagined a warm swamp like sea beyond the mist teaming with life waiting to be hatched upon the land. Then we went downstairs for waffles.
(excerpt) I couldn’t breathe right away. I teared up and was embarrassed. There I was a grown ass woman crying at the fact that I could see water through a window.
(excerpt) All of the oddities outweighed the opportunity to watch whales swim by without having to put on pants (me put on pants, not the whales.)
(excerpt) I teetered out of bed and located the alka seltzer, preferred heartburn relief of old men everywhere. I wrapped myself in a blanket sat in front of the open balcony glass door and stared out into the blackness of the water and deep into the night. The sound of the breaking waves daring me to move too much or too fast. My equilibrium was shot. While I sat their praying for a sneaker wave to jump the four floors up to our room with enough strength to pull me out to sea, I noticed a dim bobbing light on the horizon.
(excerpt) When we started out in Missoula (elevation 3,209 ft) the road ahead seemed clear. We were following a treasure map to our own future. There, on the beach in Seaside (at sea level) the view was much less obvious. Those trade winds have shifted and we know a few things in a different way now.
(excerpt) What is here for us? Does this place have any magic that we can’t resist? I don’t know. I can say that we had a remarkable dinner at an Italian wood fire oven pizza place where we were served a pizza with French blue cheese, by a Spanish waiter, while I drank and Argentinian wine and that waiter did not stare at my jacked-up eye, not even once. That is a pretty good start.
(excerpt) “Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?" "That depends a good deal on where you want to get to." "I don't much care where –" "Then it doesn't matter which way you go.”
(excerpt) Tomorrow we are in the wind again. We are older, hopefully wiser, and we take with us every moment, every perfect moment that has shaped our rings and fed our roots. All of our very best memories, of our saddest days, of our closest relationships and of our greatest achievements they all begin the same way “Remember the time . . .”
(excerpt) Steve and Mortimer are as of this writing tucked safely away in the kitty hotel for the next month. Their acclimation is anyone’s guess. We hope that it is smooth. Our acclimation however, to a house without cats, is so very much harder than we thought it would be. Cody and I don’t know yet where we belong. As we launch into our journey of discovery, both of place and self, if we were uncertain before we know with a visceral surety now that our space, our life, the world that we build is off balance and empty without these furry reminders of how we feel when we are whole.
(excerpt) In the spirit of John Jacob Astor and the intrepid settlers, trappers and miners of the late 18th and early 19th century we are forging west (more west - we are already in Montana). We are drawn to the sea. As we load our wagon, actually a Toyota Corolla, and begin to navigate our way through the Rocky Mountains, the Columbia River Valley and on towards the edge of the continent we are looking for the place that is our home.