13 years, 11 jobs, 10 cars, 8 foreign countries, 14 states, 4 houses, 3 children, 5 cats, 1 dog, 2 guinea pigs, four chickens and a day ago I married this guy…
… and I’m certain on those stats because we counted today. In the car. As we drove from Montana to Oregon.
Father’s Day was spent with dear friends, at the same zoo that we frequented at least monthly back when the girls were tiny, after a quick lunch at Portland’s infamous food carts.
With bellies full of the world’s best [Oregon] strawberrries, we are now comfortably settled into the guest house/office of my sweet, hospitable cousin, who graciously welcomed us to crash with her family on the eve of our all-day pre-op visits with Little Man’s surgical team. His pediatrician warned us that he would certainly lose a little weight, post-op, but at the rate we’re going it’s plausible he’ll break even as we eat our way across Oregon in the next 9 days.