As we were driving through Oregon, approaching Portland, I was amazed by how fecund and lovely it is. Even the rest areas had rosebushes, beautifully manicured lawns, and picturesque views, as shown below.
Another thing I noticed as we approached Portland proper was that people here don't speed. I think the fastest I saw anyone traveling was maybe five miles over the posted limit. Amazing! My theory is that when the drive is so scenic, there is no need to rush. I don't know.
Anyway, we drove around for a lot longer than anticipated trying to find a good RV park. We finally chose one and went to eat a late lunch at a restaurant close to the park. It was a lovely, sunny day, so we sat outside on their patio. As the waitress was taking our order, we felt this rumble and heard this incredibly loud noise, which only (impossibly) got louder. It was a fighter jet of some sort flying over. Of course, the first thing I thought of was that we had just paid for a week at the RV park located a stone's throw away from the restaurant. "Does that happen often?" we hesitantly asked. "All the time." Fortunately, they only fly by in the afternoons.
After lunch, I finished setting up our trailer for the week. Manny and Isabel picked Zorah and me up, and we drove to their house. I hadn't seen Isabel for almost a year. Of course, she grew a lot, but it is still a surprise when you see how much they've grown. The last I remember she was stumbling around banging on things and waving them in the air. Now she's talking and running, showing her personality. Very cool.
When we got to the house, we got to meet Celia for the first time. Round, happy, hungry baby. Then Manny and Ela's friends came, so we all hung around and talked and watched the kids play. Got back to the trailer around 11, tired but happy to be around family again.
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