I dreamt that a group of folks and I were walking alongside a river and found a cave/structure of ruins. There was a animated-like bug in this creepy, ancient place that resembled something from Indiana Jones. Vague, I know, but the dreamscape is already fading from my mind.
Local liquid delicasies dominate this town, and my trip. Tommy and I got breakfast at the Wandering Goat, which I visited this summer. Their coffee is dreamy, delicious and strong, and I had a bagel totally covered in various tasty seeds. We hopped in the Honda and zipped through Eugene to King's Estate winery. Grabbed some pinot noir just outside of town, and I tasted my first flight of Oregon wines! The winery looked like a castle surrounded by green hills covered in vines. Mossy trees cover the vast valley. I joked that the cows were probably mossy, too.
Yesterday we hiked up Spencer's Butte that overlooks the town. We squished up the muddy trail to the rocky top of for butte-iful views of distant snowy mountains and surrounding hills. Pictures to come! On Valentine's Day I indulged in multiple pints of Ninkasi's Believer at some local bars with Amy. The beer is a hands-down damn tasty delight! Amy also introduced me to Barry's, a little bakery by U of O that sells Dark & White chocolate chip cookies. Applesauce in the mix makes for the gooiest consistency, a major component of the best cookies ever. EVER.
I'm ready to head back to Portland and explore the buttes and Mt. Tabor via bicycle. I miss Ellie -- the bikes in Eugene make me long for my two-wheeled wonder! I'm taking to the streets this afternoon on foot to meet Amy and buy one of those cookies for Shane. We have a bet to see if it will make it home...or if LJ the Cookie Monster will eat it on the train!
Dance parties with Otis the pup have interrupted my train of thought this afteroon; it's time for another adventure!
This Valentine's Day started off gray -- just the sky, as expected here. My heart is happy, though I am a hundred miles away from my hunny. Still far closer than the thousands between us a month ago.
Instead I'm curled up in a blue cocoon on Amy's couch, in her house in Eugene, waiting for her and Tommy to get up.
My train ride down from Portland was beautiful. It was on one of the double decker, big ole' honkin trains that was running all the way to Sacremento. I sat in the last car, and my seatmate dozed and texted as my eyes wandered around the car. My neighbors discussed U of O law school and triathalons; the other ones talked about Montana's economy and natural resources, and traveling. The sun was shining between Portland and Junction City, I saw big, snowy mountains in the distance and herds of sheep.
The haze took over slowly as the sun set and faded to the same orangey tint I'm used to seeing here. As the train pulled up to the station, it started sprinkling. I got off and smelled reefer, thinking to myself, "I guess it is a 'smoking stop,' " and laughing inside. Welcome back to Eugene, Laura Jane!
We warmed our bellies with "wild" Thai food right down the street; I'm already thinking about mine for leftovers this afternoon. Otis and Cooper scurried around as I dozed off, jingling and eating and trying to sit on my head.
And here I am, thinking about the mister still sleeping in bed at home. Hopefully doing better than yesterday -- down with the flu since Tuesday or something. I had raced out to Freddie's to get soup, tea, fresh veggies, ocillo, you name it. All he really wanted was cough meds, though. I think the rest was for my peace of mind. Always offering "too many options," something I'm sure I picked up from my mom.
Seeing Amy and Tommy, two other Oregon transplants this past summer, makes me miss you folks in Tennessee...quite a bit. All three of us grumble a little bit about the things I expected, but somehow having Tennessee friends makes the transition easier, the rain less severe and the sunny days brighter.
And now I'm left to daydream about the mister and our budding love. Mother Hips show at the Doug Fir + scrumptious dinner next weekend + the gaudiest glue-and-doilie creation I can think of...that boy's got it comin for him. Heh.
My toes are chilly, stuffed in the end of the chocolate couch as I watch the moon rise through the blinds. It's surrounded in a ring of haze, typical stuff of the Northwest this time of year. The day was clear and sunny, a bit cold in the shade and sitting waiting for the bus.
Nikki and I watched with eagerness as a mother and daughter tied up their basset hound, aptly named Potato. Potato wanted to go eat Asian food with his family, and looked up at every passerby to see if maybe THEY would let him in.
"Come on guys. Come on. Let me in.
I want to see my family. Now.
Now. Now. .. No, now. Please. Please. Now."
He wanted to sniff the tiny long-haired dauchsunds that slid easily across the sidewalk, not nearly as eager as Potato.
I was visually distracted, though, as I tend to get on the streets here, gazing at the wild colors folks wear, the speedy bicycles they ride, the eccelectic feel of each neighborhood. There's always something unexpected, some totally weird occurence... and there always seem to be more of those when taking the bus. Last night on the Max we saw some teen's hilarious business-card pickup move. We murmured about the couple murmuring in our direction. I stared at the city lights' reflections as we crossed the river going downtown. My giddy fascination with transit is still so prominent. Call me a hick from Tennessee, but I love it.
My dreams have been particularly wild the past few nights, one of which involved dropping my backpack and laptop off a cliff. I wasn't really afraid of falling off the cliff myself though. Stressful shit on the edge? Too much baggage? Definitely.
OK, boneheads. Enough drudgey talk.
I dreamt that a group of folks and I were walking alongside a river and found a cave/structure of ruins. There was a animated-like bug in this creepy, ancient place that resembled something from Indiana Jones. Vague, I know, but the dreamscape is already fading from my mind.
