Over the hill

We are going ‘over the hill’ today, if you can call the Cascades a ‘hill’.  After living in Southern California for so long, where there was every shop imaginable and attainable within a ‘short’ (depending on California traffic) drive, a trip ‘over the hill’ is our opportunity to catch up on our retail needs.

With a craft fair looming and a farm filled with inspiration, I am beside myself with delight to get into a Michael’s craft store.  My coupons are packed, Michael’s card tucked into the wallet and two or three ‘reminders’ to my loving spouse about how much I ‘need’ to go to Michael’s.  Do I know exactly what I need ?  Well… I will know when I see it.

While we’re over the hill, we have a dinner date planned.  Much needed and long-awaited, somewhere by the water.  Just us two old people, no one to tell… eat more dinner, don’t move the rice with your hand, don’t shake the rice off your hand onto the table, take your elbows off the table, don’t slurp your milk, use your napkin, whose turn is it to do the dishes?,  and their ever-loving replies… ‘hun?’  ‘what?’ and my personal favorite ‘not mine’.

My loving spouse adores the ocean and needs to see it regularly.  We were getting excited to go and explore Long Beach, Washington, as it sounded delightful.  He had gathered the information on the best beach to go to for dinner from our current resident expert in all things, our friend the farmer.  The mis-communication could have been his English accent, but somewhere along the way the two men’s planning abilities hit a snag.  Long Beach is a 4.5 hour drive… one way.