A week of travelers and traveling.

It seems to me, that life is so much the same-old mundane thing every day and then, suddenly, it's as if everything happens in one big exciting whirlwind, leaving behind only a happy blur of memory. So it was last week. My dear friend ("dear" is such an understatement in an attempt to sum up our quite beautifully complicated relationship) brought her two daughters and new husband (and dog!) to meet us on their family-moon adventure around the west part of the country. We spent several days with them in the abnormally beautiful (and warm) Portland weather going to the park, the zoo, driving around like maniacs, eating, catching up... etc. It just so happened that the band Sam is currently drumming for had a show in Seattle the same week! We were saddened to have to leave our visitors for the day, but ended up having a beautiful family day in the Emerald City exploring Gas Works Park before load-in and sound check. Needless to say, this past week was insanely busy and exhausting. But now, I sit alone in my living room, desperately missing the four people's bedrolls in the way on my living room floor, two dogs fighting over toys, and seven people's dishes piling up in the sink and on the counter. And no, it's not because I have an odd fetish for doing the dishes, because I DON'T. It's because something inside me feels more alive when the order in my life is interrupted by the disorder of community.


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