Westmoreland Asays

If you had asked me yesterday what my chances of meeting the President of United States were, I would have laughed in your face. Ask me that same question today, and I would tell you to sit down, for I have a story to tell. But sometimes, it's best to step away from the words and let the picture explain the story.

Meg finally followed through on one of her threats: she took the kids and left me--for her parents' house, of all places. At least she let me drive them to the airport and say goodbye--none of this flee-in-the-middle-of-the-night crap. Of course I jest in my tone: Meg had planned this trip several months ago, and I will join her and the boys after spending a few weeks alone. Well, I still have my housemates, but they aren't much fun to me. I have been looking forward to this day for some time. Visions of projects I could accomplish, epic rides I could take on my bike, the literary blog entries I could whip out, and the freedom to do whatever I wanted flashed through my mind daily. Two years ago Meg left me for a week to visit friends and family in Utah, and I fondly remembered having what seemed the time of my life. If one week yielded that much awesomeness, how much could four weeks bring (so much it just might make my head explode!)? I don't know what has changed in t...

I'm not a big fan of cub/boys scouts, but as long as my children want to participate, I will support their desire and strive to make it as fun as possible for them. I drew the Thursday assignment of chaperoning the boys at the yearly day camp. Aaron had never been before, and I think his enjoyment far exceeded his expectations. My Thursday assignment proved ideal: the boys already knew the lay of the land, had forged relationships with the other boys that had been assigned to our group, and they knew the answers to all of my questions. It also helped that the my co-leader from the other group had been there all week and was great at directing everything. This left me to do what I do best: fade into the background so I can observe and lead from a distance. Our day included BB gun shooting, skit practice, obstacle course (of which I set the record for the day, but which the leaders denied announcing to the entire camp--I was robbed!), frisbee golf, and learning about Oregon an...

Continuing a tradition I started in 1999--the grandest of all years to date--I went on a hike. And for the first time in a while, we went as a family. We headed out early Wednesday morning before the sun and the crowds could beat us to Multnomah Falls. We hiked to the bridge, called it good, ran back for the car (but not before Meg got sidetracked and bought some fudge), and drove a few miles east to our true destination: Horetail/Oneonta Falls. The parking lot was already full when we arrived, but luckily there was still space available on the side of the road. Our goal was a three-mile hike that looped through the Oneonta Gorge, passing three different falls, one of which we could actually walk behind. Three-year old Ian showed his toughness by hiking the whole distance. I did have to coax him with lifesavers and oodles of fudge to keep his legs moving, but he did so all on his own, making this the first hike in memory where I didn't have to carry him some distance. I don...

While I was brushing my teeth at 6:30 a.m., three-year old Ian snuck into the bathroom with his backpack strapped on and said, "Me go camping, Daddy." "I have to go to work first, Ian. We'll go after lunch." Ian As I'm walking out the front door 15 minutes later, seven-year old Edward bounds down the stairs with his backpack strapped on and said, "Is it time to go Dad?" I am tempted to say something stupid about them not ever listening to me, but I stop before foolishly extinguishing their excitement to spend time with me, and remind him that we'll go in a few hours. I still believe in preparing the night before, even if it gives them a false impression that we are leaving sooner rather than later. The drive into and through the trees and hills surrounding Mt. Hood took about 90 minutes.  Ian dreamed of throwing rocks in the river while Aaron and Edward played Pokemon with their friend Josh (who, along with his Dad, rode with us).  We...

We were supposed to have driven to Wilsonville to eat Moroccan food with friends who live in Salem. Their babysitter backed-out on them at the last minute, so Meg and I scrapped together a plan for two. I had read in the Oregonian that Sometimes a Great Notion (novel by Ken Kesey that I started reading last year but had a difficult time following it) was playing for one night only at the Hollywood Theater. We like to visit different theaters around town, especially those that have a long history. The film was made in 1970 and is mostly about Oregon logging men, so I thought Meg might quickly dismiss the idea and suggest something else. But she gave the green light of acceptance, and our backup plan was finalized. After eating dinner (served by an acquaintance who also has kids at Llewellyn) at a place on East Burnside, we drove to Hollywood and bought our tickets early. Meg wasn't feeling well, so she welcomed the extra time to sit and let her body overcame...

One of my favorite blogs to read is from a man named BikeSnobNYC . If you couldn't guess from his monikor, he writes about one of my favorite activities: cycling. His wisdom and humor make me laugh. He recently published his second book and was doing a national tour to promote it. I wasn't surprised that he scheduled to make a stop in Portland (we have the world's largest used bookstore, and BikeSnob makes fun of Portland and its cycling culture), but I was relieved to find out and immediately made arrangements so I could attend the event. After finishing my day at the office, I rode my bike into downtown to grab a quick bite to eat at a foodcart. While waiting for the foodcart man to prepare my sausage, I noticed a man standing in the same parking lot taking pictures of all the cyclists riding by (it was on a bike thoroughfare). It was the man behind another popular, large blog, BikePortland. I often disagree with him and find him ultra-smug, but I find relief when ...