Where Ya' Been?

1. Back in the middle of July, we went to a conference for children's writers down in Netarts, OR. I had a great time talking with an editor, an agent, and published authors about my writing. It turns out, unfortunately, that praise is totally debilitating to me as a writer. Sigh. Christie and Wrig joined me at the coast, where they spent five solid days playing in the sand.

2. We returned home to a heat wave and an invitation from Jeff and Cindi to join them at the beach. So we washed a load of laundry, piled into the car, and headed back to the coast. The bonus time at the beach was very cool: I got to help Jeff repair a deck and I got to rock out on my guitar with Jeff's friend Eric (who can actually play songs and stuff); Jeff accompanied us, of course, on the accordion. Party on, dude!

3. About 15 minutes after we returned my dad arrived from Phoenix for the beginning of a month long visit. Two days later, Mom joined us. We've been very busy in town - swimming, cooking, playing blackjack, eating out, walking around. Wrig has had four sleepovers with Grammers and Gramps, which means four - count 'em, four! - dates for Christie and me. We went to a baseball game (the Beavers got killed), rented a movie (I'd forgotten what it was until Christie reminded me that it was Kiss Kiss Bang Bang. It was pretty amusing but not exactly memorable), went bowling (Christie rolled a 147 on her first game in five years, but her back has been complaining ever since), and spent three - count 'em, three! - hours at Powell's (actually, we spent three hours and $130 - expensive, but way cheaper than a massage). Grammers and Gramps are heading home tomorrow and they'll definitely be missed.

4. During the visit, the nuclear family (or nuke-u-lur, if you attended Yale) headed east to Camp Creek for another weekend of camping (we really are that sort of family, now). Wrig had a great time exploring the creek and splashing around in Trillium Lake with Mia and Miles, and the parents had a great time trying to stay out of the cold water. Up at Trillium Lake we found hundreds, if not thousands, of butterflies. You'd think you could find one lousy poem amidst a thousand butterflies, but no such luck.

So that's about it. Back to school is breathing down my neck and I haven't even opened the bag of files I was planning on perusing over the summer. I hope there wasn't anything important in there ...