We’ve just arrived in downtown Portland, the northwest quadrant which we hear is pretty fancy pants. A nap is imminent; as you can see, I’ve already curled up to the embroidered peacock for a nap selfie in case you don’t know what me napping looks like–it looks like me in red lipstick stretching my neck to make my chin look sharper. Also, there are NINE pillows on this humungous bed, which confirms the fancy-pants-iness.
Despite the threatening thunderstorms that canceled the Sunday outdoor races and forced the bands, raffles, and food sellers indoors at Springhouse Cellar Wineries, also known The Place Where I Will Get Married, A4C’s Kiteboarding4Cancer was a great success.
Angela taught me how to slice oranges for a fruit salad like a fancy chef and I folded approximately two t-shirts for sale, which fulfilled my cancer event volunteering quota for the weekend. Paul carried some stuff, so he filled his too.
I wish we had more time to hang with Angela and her impressively athletic and welcoming crew in Hood River, explore gorj Columbia Gorge, and chill in Portland eating food made inside of trucks despite nearby restaurants with AIR CONDITIONING and CHAIRS.
But, alas, tomorrow, we will return to our swamp home (for now) DC.
Love and type more soon,