I would like to say something clever right now, but the photo better represents my state of mind: a tad blurry and wonky with questionable subject matter. I shall blame it on the sun and walking and talking and laughing, especially the latter two.

Catching up with this man from my teenage days, Pat, and getting to know his awesome wife, Molly, and one of the sweetest dogs with a head bigger than mine, Valla. We’re in Forest Park here, on the climb back up to the car where we, more accurately, Valla, decided we all needed to rest. Pat commented at the absurdity of a dog bred for life in Africa should start to overheat in Portland, of all places. Pat is like that, clever expressions dropping right and left and making us all laugh, even those of the naughty and perverted variety. I decided that he’s the only person I know that can make almost anything dirty sound funny and bearable, like that scene in Three Men and a Baby when Tom Selleck reads about boxing.

Spending time with this pair was like stumbling upon treasure, where you can’t believe your luck that it was right there, ripe for the picking, and now it is yours. I’m so glad they were in our neck of the woods.

…

That’s the hubster accidentally sneaking into the photo. He met up with friends who hadn’t seen him in a while, whereupon Darin shouted, “Holy shit, it’s Grizzly Greg!” at the beard and took a photo to send to his wife. Actually, I don’t know that this is funny anymore, despite my chuckles, so see paragraph one.

…

Happy Mother’s Day!

…

Happy Birthday, Allison!

…

Congratulations to fellow writer K.B. Dixon for the 2012 Eric Hoffer Book Award Honorable Mention!