Home for a minute

Tonight I am writing from lovely Springfield, Oregon. The place I grew up, mostly. If you can call me grown up at all given some of the stuff going on, which I suppose some of you would say is really debatable.

Driving down, the weather was…let’s call it variable. It rained. It was sunny. It rained. There were some gorgeous multi-layered cloud formations near Coburg. What is the deal with the clouds in that area? Somehow the sky is always bigger and more dramatic right between Harrisburg and Coburg.

Or maybe I just have a weird cloud fixation.

Hung out a bit with Ma and Little L and shared some of my cherry pomegranate cider with them. They liked it almost as much as Chelle and I do. It’s good stuff. Had a good talk, then went out for dinner and drinks with some of my favorite people on the planet: Sharon and Stewart.

Steak and booze. More talking. Laughing. There is nothing better than having people you can be yourself with. People who know when to cut you some slack or when to get on your ass. People who love you no matter what. People who know exactly who you have buried and where. Maybe they even helped destroy the evidence. Or, just saying, maybe some of the bodies belong to them. Just a for instance.

Those people are rare in life, but I do seem to have been blessed in that department. The people I know are the best people.

I also enjoyed the pictures going up on Facebook from the folks at the KISS show in Vancouver and am currently crossing my fingers for a safe, clean limo trip home for them.


I am not sure. Wine tasting, maybe.