So . . . where were we?

Yeah, I know.
I'm supposed to be responding countering following up on MB's guest post from last week [yeah, yeah, Wednesday   . . . better late than never, eh?].
Well, I'm not so good at assignments.
What's amazing is that I actually got our tax stuff to the tax guy already this year.
That involved a drive to the ol' homestead up north and back.
Then we went to see granddaughter, the Bug, perform in a youth production of the Music Man.
Then there was a Lions district meeting up in Sutter, right at the base of the Sutter Buttes.

source: Facebook

Then a potluck birthday dinner.
These events were all interspersed among a whole bunch of other things we do regularly.

Like, for example, tomorrow night is our regular Tuesday night volunteering at the Winter Sanctuary.
We're night captains in charge of intake, transport, check-in, meal service, and instruction to to the overnight team for the sheltering of the homeless clients at the local church of the week.
It seems like there's always something.

Then, of course, there's the weather.
It's raining again.
That's what it is supposed to do this time of year.
It just seems unusual because there was a long dry spell from about 2013 to 2016 and then again last year.

The ol' homestead had snow last storm.
A lot of snow.
They were without electricity for about a week and the apricot tree went down from the weight of the snow.

So now were at the start of another week.
We're preparing for a visit from MB's niece and family from Arizona [I know, right?].

After all this time I still haven't determined what the theme of this blog is.
I really don't do cute, except when posting granddaughter pics   . . . and sometimes cat pics.
Travel posts are iffy because of tech issues.
Politics are taboo here.
So you're stuck with whatever floats through that space between my ears provided it ever makes it out of there and onto the blog.

Back by popular demand

My favorite blog poster, MB, thinks she has to drag the entire blogosphere into our running argument:

I felt compelled to write this post because on Monday Skip and I celebrated our 2 year anniversary. Two years! How did that happen?! In one sense, it feels like only a few months have passed and in another sense it feels like it’s always been this way. And still we look at each other and laugh and say, “Who’d o’ thunk?!”
For the past two years we have celebrated monthiversaries and, sometimes, even weeks. Because we can. And because we want to. Because it’s fun. I told Skip that a baby’s age is counted in months - 8 months, 12 months, 22 months - but when they hit that two year mark it becomes all about the years. Does that mean we have to stop celebrating the weeks or months? Heck NO! Every day is a day to celebrate.
I begin to really realize how much time has passed when I go through the list of all the activities and trips and events that have happened over the last two years. I won’t talk about those things because Skip has pretty much covered it all. So what am I going to talk about? Well . . . .
What provoked me to write this post was a statement Skip made to me again today. Fightin’ words, they were! And he says it ALL. THE. TIME.  And I disagree with him. ALL. THE. TIME.  He throws out this challenge and then I have to take it on. Because, well, I don’t think he’s right! And I need to prove it! For my own satisfaction and to show him, not that he is wrong, but that I am right!
I can see the wheels turning in some of your heads as you read this. You think I’m one of those stereotypical females/wives who think they are always right. Ugh!! I hate that! If I’m wrong, I admit it. And sometimes I’m wrong. But in this case I am certain that I am right!
So, I’m sure you are wondering what Skip said to get me so riled up. Well, once again, as happens multiple times a day, I said, “I love you”. His response? Not, “I love you” or “I love you, too”. No. His response was, “I love you MORE!” MORE? MORE! Can you believe it?!
Ha!! HE THINKS he loves me more. But I know different. I love him more and I am willing to do whatever it takes to prove it!  Because I know I’m right. Because I know how much I love him. Because I can’t imagine there is love more than I love Skip. And it gets bigger every day.
Should I discover that I am wrong, I shall concede.

Either way, I win.

Even if I’m proved wrong.

Which I won’t be.

Right?

We'll see!
Now I guess I'll have to follow up, huh?

btw, it was unsolicited

Friday cat

So . . . how was your weekend

It seems there's much talk about the weather in the world of blogdom.
February is like that.
Last year MB and I survived Snowmageddon in Michigan.
This year we stayed much closer to home, only traveling 600 miles north to see a gymnastics meet at the Evergreen Aviation & Space Museum in McMinnville, Oregon.
It is worth the trip just for the museum.
Seeing grandkids perform and enjoy others' performances is a bonus.
We're pretty sure we want to return for just the museum experience.

We left before sunrise on Thursday.
The skies were relatively clear and there was only a thin layer of ice on the windshield.
It's the humidity, ya know.

Up the road a way the Sun popped up as we passed the world's smallest, and probably shortest, mountain range.

Source: Me

The Sutter Buttes
Look closer and you may observe the Sierra Nevada Mountains in the distant background.
This feature 

The drive north, through this part of California is pretty familiar to me.
Since about 1972 I've been traveling it at least ten times a year, mush more some years than others.
The first time up the road was in 1952 and it was two lanes and there was no freeway.
I don't miss that.

North of Redding the view changes and, for awhile, Mt Shasta dominates the landscape.

Source: MB

It's tiny neighbor, Black Butte, shows up for a bit between the cities of Mt Shasta and Weed.

Source: MB

And before you know it

Then over the Siskiyou Summit

Source: MB

Yeah, just like that, a couple of miles and 1000 feet of altitude makes that much difference.
But the highway was clear and dry.

We'd been following the weather reports for a week or more.
The forecast went from cold; to wet and cold; to snow and cold; to Snowpocalypse.
That wasn't gonna keep us away.

However!
just after starting the descent into the Rogue River Basin [or whatever they call it] MB received a text from her son telling us to cool our jets because they might not be making the journey down from the Seattle area.
They were already getting snow and travel was iffy.
So when we got to Medford, we fueled up at Costco and strolled through the store to see what we could live without.
The really nice thing about shopping in Oregon is there are no sales taxes.

(I always seem to remember that after I return home)

We came away empty handed, but had received the all-clear to continue north while eating lunch .
The weather in the lower part of Oregon was just fine, even clear skies for the most part, and the scenery is grand.
It's nothing like Portland, whose motto is Keep Portland Weird.

We arrived at our destination, Hillsboro, OR late enough that about all we could do was check into the hotel and find a place for dinner.
It was still only cold.

Friday morning was more of the same, though we did see some snowflakes falling it remained relatively dry.
We had some time to fill before meeting MB's son's family.
It was decided to drive the short distance into Portland and visit Powell's City of Books.

source: Powells's

source: Me

There are over a million books in the "World's largest independent bookstore."
Maybe, for the first time ever, I left a bookstore without buying a book for myself.

We then headed for Washington Park, that overlooks the city of Portland so our stowaway, aka Ducky, could see the view.
She was happy to find snow.

source: MB

She was born in Illinois and lived most of her life in the Midwest, so she really misses it.
She's a gymnast, too, and came to support her cousin.
Then we met the WaDaps for pizza and headed to the gymnastics meet.

source: Me

source: Me

source: Me

source: Me

source: Me

source: Me

I forgot to take a photo of the buildings from the outside.
We didn't get into the other display building where the Spruce Goose is.
So we have to go back again.

I'm sure there was meet taking place, but I was a little distracted.
The granddaughter placed 5th in the vault competition and 10th place overall in her age group.

It was raining and really cold as we left McMinnville for our hotel.
We expected to see snow by morning.

We didn't, except for a few flakes floating in the air.
I was perfectly happy because our plan was to drive home after breakfast brunch.
We went to a really nice restaurant and began to see snowfall before we were even served.
It was after noon by the time we got away and headed south.
Mostly the flakes came down and melted.
Traffic was light and sane, too.
I was pleased because we'd heard a report of a pileup in Portland that had all but closed I-205.
We hadn't reached Southern Oregon yet.
Basically the Willamette Valley is flat, without a lot of change in elevation from Portland south to Springfield, about 110 miles.
Then there are hills, and then forests, and it's scenic.
Toward last section before reaching the California line there are a couple of low passes (just under 2000 ft.) and some narrow canyons.
It was here the snow caught up with us and we actually saw the snowplows and de-icers at work.
We had our chains with us, but the pavement remained pretty much ice and snow free.

It had already been decided that there was no way we'd tackle the Siskiyou Summit at 4,310 feet, definitely not at night.
So we stopped at the best stopping spot in Oregon, Ashland, the home of the Oregon Shakespeare Festival and a number of really nice hotels.
Beside, the snow was falling pretty well by then and the wipers weren't doing as well as I thought they should.

MB found a cozy hotel online.
It even had a parking garage and this restaurant next door.

source: MB

There was even a creek flowing beside it.
The food was good, too.

Next morning we had a filling breakfast, compliments of the hotel.
Then we made our way down the street to the downtown area and browsed for gifts for the grandkids who didn't make the trip.

By then we knew the road was open with no chain requirements.
That was my signal to hit the road.

source: MB

source: MB

In no time we were back in California and seeing sunshine.

source: Me

We stopped for a moment to view Mt Shasta across the Shasta River Valley

source: MB

. . . and then a picture of a barn beside the freeway.

We interrupt this interruption . . .

. . . to bring you news the weather report:

A friend who still lives up north where I lived posted it this morning.
The power is out up there, too.

Friday cat

Loaded and warming up

Routinely, warming is unnecessary.
The past three days it's the frost on the windshield . . .   heck, all the glass . . .   that says to me the car needs to be warmed before it goes.

We are off to pick up the granddaughter, and local gymnast, to head north to almost Portlandia so we can observer another granddaughter's gymnastics meet.
Word on the street is we can expect snow up there.

see ya

I'll try not to do that again

No promises, though.
It's really sad when it take longer to post about a forty day road trip than it took to actually make the trip.
I actually started posting while on the trip but was frustrated by balky gadgets.
Then I started the post vacation narrative on October 17.

We shall see what happens on the next vacation trip.
There's a trip to Oregon this weekend for a gymnastics meet, but it doesn't count.
We're going to see a granddaughter's gymnastics meet and taking another granddaughter with us.

We'll be near those factory outlets again.

should be fun

And then . . .

Actually we drove to Tacoma, slept and then drove home.

Our first stop on Sunday

Then we saw the Columbia River again.

. . . and crossed over it, into Portlandia

There's plenty of scenery south of Portland.

. . . and we made a stop.
MB scored a $90 jacket at Eddie Bauer for $21.

Then the sights of Southern Oregon near Medford

Approaching Mt Ashland

It was getting dark as we spotted another familiar sight

Mt Shasta

Redding's "Giant American Flag."

One thing - as we were leaving Tacoma, before we found the fog, I told MB I wasn't ready to go home.
She told me she had the exact thoughts earlier.
The was a real temptation to make a right turn at Olympia and head to the coast to extend our trip.
But there were bills waiting to be paid.

One last photo

The actual mileage was 9,007.
We'd missed setting the odometer when we left the house 40 days earlier.
We didn't set it until we were at the Dutch Bros. a mile from the house.

always somethin'

A family sorrow

Not now, but whilst we were nearing the finale of our tour of America.
Part of our plan when visiting Washington to to visit with the other part of the family, known previously as The Clan [actually, I guess they still are the clan . . .   just haven't called them that lately].
Unfortunately, we'd be unable to visit during the week because of school, work, and extracurricular activities.
Weekends weren't possible because they were commuting north to spend time with my daughter in law's mom, who was terminally ill.
Then just before we got to Washington I received a text that her mother had passed.

Another text followed while we were at the WaDaps letting us know that the services would be the following Saturday if we'd like to attend.
These folks weren't just the passing acquaintance types.
We'd spent time with them on numerous occasions.

We adjusted our plans, staying one more day, going to an early soccer game  . . .the first half anyway . . . and driving 90 miles to almost Canada for the services.

When visiting family you don't quibble about circumstances.

We hit a milestone  as well . . .

. . . just before arriving at the soccer pitch.

The boys enjoyed the game, too.

We couldn't stay to get the final score.

Then it was up I-5 and a view of Mt Baker because it was a beautiful day.

. . . and more fall colors

A closer look at Mt Baker

. . . and some rural scenery in the Ferndale/Everson area

Nooksack River

Grapes

Word is that the rows of bushes that have turned a beautiful fall red are blueberry bushes.

Our trip is coming to an end. It is bittersweet.
We saw family but lost family. We are glad we were close enough to be there.