It’s been a few crazy days, but there’s much to talk about today.

First and foremost — congrats to Claire! She had her baby and is home resting well.

I’ve come to a realization here in Portland that the servers function in their own time-space continuum. While the service was spotty throughout Orlando, I find the comparision with Portland slightly disturbing. To be honest, we’ve gotten good service at only a few places. And it seems that the more we pay for a meal, the less likely we are to be treated like human beings. It’s frustrating. I don’t expect a whole lot, honestly. Keep my coffee/water/adult beverage full, don’t make me ask for silverware, and don’t cut eyes at me when you ask if I need anything else. The only place I’ve found consistent service is at *gasp* chain restaurants. It makes me ill sometimes. But there’s so much good food in Portland. We found a place that serves veggie comfort food and another rockin’ breakfast place. Both had excellent meals, and the service was spotty, but didn’t hinder my longing to return.

We’ve discovered that opossums do live in the great Northwest. If you’ve read this blog for any amount of time, you should know about a few of our incidents. One, was the burgler possum trapped in the hallway, then there was a nice little fuzzy who lived under the Nebraska Street house beneath the bathtub (it was hard not to get freaked out when you heard his/her nails scratching the tub, then there was the one (probably the same little bastard) that the beagles tortured every night. This weekend, we found out that opossums live here as well. The dogs went out for their nightly romp, and went apeshit for some reason. I called them in, so as not to disturb our barking-sensitive neighbors, and the night wore on. About 2ish we let them out again, and Pip started screaming. Dog screams are unlike any other sound in the world. I could tell he was scared. I ran outside again, called them in, and figured out that they cornered a big ass opossum. The thing is the size of Valentine. The dogs seemed irritated, but fine. Miss A sat on the couch, petting Pip when she looked at her hand in shock.

“I think he’s bleeding.”

We ran him into the bathroom and found three puncture marks under his chin. One bled pretty steadily. Poor Pip - I made him roll over and cleaned the wound. Then I put neosporin on it, and tried to make sure there wasn’t any other hidden bites. We figured out that the stupid creature probably tried to play dead. Puck’s smart, and stayed back, just barking at the bastard, but Pip probably nosed him, and that’s when it bit him. D and I ran back outside. The thing looked scared, hissed at us, but wouldn’t move. We chucked a few rocks near him, hoping he would jump up and run, but he stuck his ground, and kept hissing.

Fast forward to the following morning. D lets the dogs out after breakfast while I am in the bathroom getting ready. He starts yelling, and drags Puck into the bathroom with me. His head was smeared with opossum shit. I hope you never, ever have to smell that rank stuff. I’ve dealt with poop in my life - after all, we have four creatures, but that shit really stank. Puck looked pleased with himself until I tossed his ass in the bathtub. D said he was rolling in the spot where the opossum was the night before. Stupid dog… gah! And we just had them groomed too. While I bathed the beagle, D went out back to pick up all the poop he could find. Puck got clean. I got annoyed, and thought I smelled possum shit for the rest of the day. Gah. It gives me heebyjeebies just thinking about it now.

Miss A discovered biking, and I found my love for it again. We went with her to purchase her brand new pimp-mobile, and then took a ride on Monday. The view from the trail is amazing. The sun was setting, and Mt. Hood looked orange and pink. Sometimes it gets hazy and you can’t see Mt. Hood at all, but it was clear and beautiful. The river borders the trail, so I had to try to keep my eye on where I was going rather than stare at the boats and floating wood. We are going to head back out there tomorrow. It’s time for another ride.

I’ve also discovered that I don’t know how to use a sewing machine. My sister came down from Tacoma just to give me a lesson. It’s pathetic really. There’s math involved in sewing, so I know I’m screwed. If you come into our bedroom, and notice the curtains, just smile and nod. So far, the two panels I’ve sewed are uneven. So please pretend they are pretty or I will cry….. maybe.