It feels like I blinked and now we rent houses instead of camping. We still backpack. We still raft. We’re still sleeping on the ground often enough, but in terms of weekends at the coast, peoples’ birthdays, we rent houses now. I think this is aging? Because I like the house renting thing. Bed. Kitchen. Cooking. Lights that we control. I’m freaked out because I fear needs. I don’t want to be fancy. I don’t want to not notice that I’m becoming fancy. Am I going to write a post in 5 years that says, it feels like I blinked and we fly private jets now. ???
The house we rented for Jamie’s 30th birthday this weekend was pretty special. It was way up high, and though it eliminated beach spontaneity, it gave us the most spectacular ocean backdrop. Of course, all of this happened before I read the New Yorker article today about the overdue Cascadia earthquake. I was looking at the ocean like my pretty friend but now I know it’s a tsunami on its lunch break.
It was so nice to be cold.
While I was baking the cake, Lee, Jamie, and Joel went seafood shopping. They got oysters, cod, and a big ole crab. Everyone slurped down a raw oyster except me. I suck. Here are their faces:
I don’t get it about seafood. I just don’t.
Before leaving town we all sucked down ice cream. Here are our faces:
I totally get it about ice cream.