Writing This Way
This blog existed for a particular, finite purpose: detailing a 2006 road trip and the delicious coffee that fueled the experience.
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Labels: fiction, interviews, reading, writing, writing advice
My faraway friends
I've always had friends who didn't live near me, starting with pen pals when I was young. As an adult who moved 3,000 miles from my hometown, that's even more true. The wonderful girlfriends I grew up with are busy living their wonderful lives in apartments and houses and condos all over the East Coast.
What's amazing in the past year or so, though, is how many of the people I've met along my journeys are in distant lands. It surprises and delights me to hear from them, whether through their blogs, their letters or their e-mails. Brooke is in Mongolia, although I'm not sure for how much longer, with the Peace Corps. Rose is in China, teaching English. Ezra's in Ukraine, also with the Peace Corps.
My friend Piya, who I met in college and who joined us for part of our summer road trip, is now in Dubai, and soon on her way to India. She has lived in New York City for three years and is now returning to New Delhi. She's writing about her experiences online at
There's No Place Like Home.
I'm not going to be doing much traveling for a while, which is another story, but I can listen to their stories and smile when I think of them living in faraway places, learning new languages and surrounded by different cultures.
Tonight in our neighborhood, it's snowing. There's a shimmery coat of white on the lawn and the street. It may not stick around, but looking out the window, it doesn't look like our street. That's as exotic as we'll be getting any time soon, so I'm going to put my nose against the glass and savor the moment. The snow will be gone soon enough.
Some fine, fall football
Jonathan and I attend Oregon State Beavers games on many Saturdays in the fall. The procession down to Corvallis with my inlaws, Beavers flags flapping in the wind, is part of our autumn ritual. I do love college football, and it's so much more interesting to watch live. To be a part of the chanting and screaming. We're just a few faces among the hoards wearing orange and black. That anonymity, and its accompanying sense of community, are a change from living our independent, solitary lives.
My friend Dave taught me about college football, but that's another story. So's the one about how I mistakenly gave a few of our wedding guests the impression that, post-ceremony, I had been watching a football game, rather than being photographed for posterity. Oops. Really, I wasn't watching the Michigan-Oregon game. We staged those photos of the last two minutes in the fourth quarter, I swear.
In any case, I'm no sports writer, but yesterday's OSU's victory over number-three ranked USC was an excellent game. The Beavers held on to win it 33-31, despite a fourth-quarter rally by USC. I can't remember the last time I spent most of a game on my feet, cheering and clapping and breathlessly awaiting the outcome of the next play and the one after that. A lot of the usual problems and unnecessary penalties were absent in the Beavers' play, and even better, they had a fierce energy. A determination. The more they got going on the field, the more we all clapped and screamed our heads off. It felt a little historic. And the victory, it turns out, was historic. USC had previously held a conference record of having won 27 consecutive Pac-10 games. The Oregonian's headline this morning proclaims, "Hello, Giant Killers II." It also touted the victory as "what will go down as one of the greatest victories in school history."
As students charged the field (twice mistakenly, before the game was officially over), and then in one wriggling mob once the clock ran out, we headed out of our seats and back to the car, swarming with the other fans, talking to each other, laughing. The yellow leaves on OSU's campus fell from the trees onto the walkways, and the sky was blue, the air finally crisp after a morning of fog. Everyone was elated. Except, I suppose, USC players and fans.
To paraphrase my father-in-law, yesterday was a perfect fall day. I'm glad we were there to partake.
My hat gets an outing
My hat and my husband and I had a wonderful long weekend in Oceanside, Oregon. We visited our friend Barbara and also went for a walk at Lost Boys' Beach, pictured above. It's a favorite spot of Jonathan's from back in the day.
Barbara's home overlooks the ocean, and we enjoyed hours of conversation, food and wave watching. We watched birds migrate south and the most beautiful sunset Sunday evening. It was definitely a sweet, relaxing time. We chatted up her lovebird, Peepbo, and I got some more knitting done on my road trip afghan.
On Saturday night, we dressed to the nines for the annual Tillamook Mayor's Ball. Lots of mayors were there. Six maybe? Mayor after mayor after mayor from local towns, plus the Tillamook mayor, plus at least one candidate running for mayor this November. Jonathan had a long chatty talk with the incumbent mayor.
The theme was the Queen Mary and the 1930s. I wore my gorgeous hat from New Orleans for its trial public outing, and it was much appreciated. I paired it with a beaded black gown found on crazy clearance in Mystic Seaport this summer and a pair of square-toed heels with thin ankle straps. Barbara loaned me a shiny teal crystal necklace to bring the hat colors into the rest of the outfit. Jonathan wore a suit and lamented the lack of 1930s bling he could find to add to his outfit.
The food was set up at various "decks," such as the Promenade Deck and the English Tea Room. It was an elegant evening, held at the county fairgrounds. I've never been to anything quite like it. We sat with my former bosses and had a blast chatting and people watching.
Oh where have the days gone?
It seems we've been slacking on our blog, but there's been so much else to do since we got home from our epic adventure. I've been freelancing and cooking and cleaning and working like crazy on my new novel. Plus I've been catching up with friends who I haven't seen in a while, sipping coffee with them and losing a couple hours here and there to conversation and giggling.
Even without a full-time job, every day seems chock full of things, good things, bad things, work-ish things, knitting things, chore things and dust. My allergies are back in full force, now that we're settled in, and despite regular vacuuming, I know dust is one of the culprits. Oh and grass. And all kinds of things. My husband's joking again that I might be allergic to him.
Despite the chill in the weather, our front-yard roses are still in bloom. They're looking a bit windblown and haggard, but they're nice spots of color when we look out the front windows. The enormous maple in the front yard has given up its yellowy green summer colors for a richer coat of reds and oranges. Across the street, our neighbor's tree is a deep wine.
Home is a nice place to be. Especially on the rainy days. We have our pumpkin decorations out on the table to brighten the gray afternoons.
My road trip afghan, despite my best intentions, is merely at its halfway mark. It's a very cozy thing to sit with, though, whether I'm actually knitting it or not. The size now is perfect for a lap blanket, but I'm going to keep growing it, as originally planned, because I have the yarn and the time.
Something exciting's bound to happen soon. Any day now. When it does, we'll write all about it. The next big event on our agenda is the Mayor's Ball in Tillamook, Oregon, with a Queen Mary theme. It's next weekend. Of course I'll bring my New Orleans hat out for its first public appearance. Mementos of our road trip have found their way into all the nooks and crannies of our house, where they surprise and delight us. Trying my hat on this weekend transported me back to that little shop on Royal Street and the very helpful staff at Fleur de Paris.
March of the crab
These guys don't look so happy to be cooked.
We went crabbing last weekend in Pacific City, on the Oregon coast, with Jonathan's family. While we took turns out on the river in the boat, Aunt Nancy and Uncle Bob set up a camping stove and cooked the crab we brought back. We ate it right there on the beach, tossing the empty shells into the bonfire, where they hissed a little. These are the ones we brought back home with us to give out to folks. The fog rolled in while we were out there, and it got quite chilly. My niece and I explored the sand dunes near where our camp was set up, and we found it was quite a bit warmer there, between the scraggly plants and sheltered from the wind off the water.
Yesterday, I visited friends on the coast where we used to live, and it was so joyful to walk barefoot on the beach with Salena and Connie, except for that one dog poop incident. We had lunch, took a walk and then found our way to the free 20 ounce coffees at the new Dutch Brothers in Newport. My Dutch Mocha was nice and smooth. After a quick stop at my old newspaper, I visited with friend Tara and her super-smart son Zac. Driving home, with the sunset just beginning in my rearview mirror, I felt free and crazily happy. Like I was out on the road again.
Our summer adventures have wound down and turned into regular, smaller adventures, closer to home. It's nice, but definitely something to get used to again. After a few more favorites lists, we're done writing about our big trip. Expect to see occasional blogs, instead of the nearly daily ones we were doing. After all, job hunting just isn't as exciting as going to Graceland.
Laura's favorite small towns
These are my own choices, and if my husband has anything to add, he'll do so when he comes home from the annual guys' camping trip.
Northampton, Massachusetts. It's a college town with lots of fun vintage clothing shops and restaurants and a great vibe. Emily Dickinson's home is in nearby Amherst.
Saugatuck, Michigan. It's a fun little town on the water with great people watching.
Montclair, New Jersey, and surrounding towns. My old stomping grounds have certainly grown trendier in recent years. It's especially lovely in that area. And you can't beat the bagels or the pizza.
North Hero, Vermont. This tiny town on an island in Lake Champlain charmed us when we visited longtime family friends.
Hyde Park, New York. A cheap movie theater, grand old mansions and the CIA flanked by Hudson River beauty. What could be more interesting? Rhinebeck was fun, too.
Saratoga Springs, New York. The food was great, the shopping was great, and that's all without even making it to the springs for rejuvenation. Yes, it's also a college town.
Newport, Rhode Island, the land of the very rich back in the day. It's affordable to go visit and take tours of the mansions, where every room in every house is exquisite.
Lake Pleasant, New York. It's one of the many small towns in the Adirondacks, and although it was pouring rain, its charm did shine right through the gray. Plus seeing my kindergarten teacher there made it all the more special.
State College, Pennsylvania. It's a happening, funky college town, surrounded by farmland and pigs and horses.
Oxford, Mississippi, home of Faulkner and a very cool little town way out there in Mississippi, which is a lot of fun to spell as far as states go. College town? You bet.
This blog existed for a particular, finite purpose: detailing a 2006 road trip and the delicious coffee that fueled the experience.
