I have learned the secret.

I live in Oregon.  Northwestern Oregon, to be precise.

It's beautiful here, truly.  It's green, for one thing.  There are mountains and rivers, waterfalls and, a couple of hours away, beaches.  Springtime brings an explosion of blooms: crocuses, daffodils, and rhododendron bushes.  It is gorgeous.  

Then there's the summer.  Clear sunny skies, largely comfortable temperatures.  Beautiful.

And then, autumn.  My favorite, hands down.  The season turns.  There are crisp, cool mornings...the trees donning their glamorous gowns of red, orange, and rich yellow.  Absolutely stunning.

But then autumn, glorious spiced autumn turns gray.  The sky grows dim and the rains begin.   Rains which, as seasoned NW dwellers know well, will not really stop for many months.  The year grows old, the days grow short, and everything grows damp and - well, soggy.

As I've mentioned before, I'm not from 'round these parts.  I was a happy Midwesterner, and transplanting to this part of the country was something of a shock to my system.  It took me a long time to begin to acclimate, to accept the rain for what it is: part of the package of this place.  A huge part of what makes it so beautiful; the driving force of all the greenery - and those lovely springtime blossoms.

Ah, but I didn't really find the key until last year.  That missing piece, the thing that keeps me from becoming grumpy as soon as the sun hides its face.  That key, that secret (for me anyway) is very simple.  When I go out in the rain, I wear a hat.

A hat!  One with a brim, to keep the raindrops off my glasses and my face.  A covering to keep my head dry and warm.  Somehow, wearing a hat as I move through the drizzle, I feel something like a superhero.

Perhaps it sounds silly.  Maybe it's superficial.  But for me, it is the key.  At long last I've learned the secret to being content out in the wet, wet, wet northwest elements, whether cold or not, whether I'm watching soccer or choosing pumpkins.

The humble hat.

it's about time!

This will be my twelfth autumn and winter in the Pacific northwest.  As such, I thought it was about time I got myself some rain boots.   The kids all have them, of course.  But up to this point I've been slogging through soccer games, outings to the pumpkin patch, and various other squishy outings, doing my very best to keep my sneakers from being overwhelmed with mud.  

But now I have an infinitely better option for rainy, soggy days.

And it's a good thing, too...

we are ready.

soaking it in

This isn't the first time I've done this, and I'm sure it won't be the last.  

 But when all the forecasts indicate that, after a lovely Indian summer, the rains are about to begin...well, you've gotta seize the day.

And so, we did.

to Oz and back

‎"Home, the spot on earth supremely blest, 

A dear, sweeter spot than the rest." 

~Robert Montgomery

I have been to "Oz" and back.   It has been wonderful and taxing, fulfilling and stretching. It has been a blast.

I loved going back. Seeing how things have changed and what's stayed the same.  Hugging people dear to me and introducing my kids to them.  I  thoroughly enjoyed visiting the old haunts.  There is so much more I would have liked to see and do, but there just wasn't time for everything.  Even so, we packed a lot into those three weeks. For the most part I think we made good choices with our time.  We certainly did our best.

This trip was empowering.  After accomplishing (and enjoying!) this feat, nothing seems impossible to me now.  Outings which used to intimidate me, taking the kids out, seem like nothing now.  If we survived, even thrived, during three weeks of living like a nomad family, we can deal with much more than I thought.

I will always treasure this time with my husband and children: the memories made. What we did, where we went.  I am so glad that we did it.

And I am so glad to get home.  

Bringing this traveling series to a close, I leave you with this thought: 

could it be?

Last weekend Jeff and I had dinner at a Lebanese restaurant. It's fairly new, local, and cozy. I'd heard really good things about the food, and we'd been wanting to try some of their fare. It was simply wonderful! And while I don't really see us taking the whole family (small space, restless toddler, picky eaters...), I have a feeling that Jeff and I will be back again soon. Anyway, while we were there, we had an interesting conversation.

Basically, I think I'm finally becoming acclimated.

It's been almost 10 years since Jeff and I packed up our stuff, and, in January 2001, said goodbye to the only place we've really ever known. We moved from Kansas (a state where we both loved living) and moved to Oregon...and the unknown.

It's funny in retrospect that, in spite of the major change we were about to experience, I had no inkling of any "transplant" issues. At least, I don't remember any. I remember thinking of it as a big adventure - a surprising response for an introvert like myself. But there you go. When people would ask me, "Why Oregon?" I would just smile with assurance and say "That's where God seems to want us."

And it was! With amazing speed, He threw open the doors, and before you could say "cross-country move," we were in the Pacific Northwest.

In January.

It rains here in January. It rains a lot.

Yes, it was exciting. Finding a place to live, finding a church, starting to put down roots. But there were major growing pains. The weather was a huge change. But even more than that was the culture shock. Let's just say that liberal Portland is a pretty big departure from the Bible belt.

So yeah, it's taken a while to grow accustomed to our new place.

But something in my spirit seems to be shifting. I'm quite sure that that, 10 years ago, I never would've suggested a Lebanese restaurant for dinner. I'm growing accustomed to the landscape, the mentality, the people...perhaps (just perhaps!) even the weather. This autumn, when the rains began, I found myself burrowing down. Grateful for my warm, dry house. Grateful for an excuse to cuddle my little ones.

Over the plates of hummus, pita, and lamb pies, I told my husband that I was actually kind of enjoying the rain this autumn. It makes things seem...cozy.

He stared at me, jaw dropped. But I stood by the word I'd chosen. Yes...cozy. Though it may be cold and wet outdoors, our homelight - our love - burns bright. And so, I do say that, this year, the rain lends a cozy feeling to my home.

But please, don't quote me on that come January...

the sweetest time of the year

Berry season has arrived! Our family has been fairly delirious, giddy with the joy of sweet, succulent strawberries.

We love them straight out of the bowl.

We love them in a special dessert.

And we definitely love them in a popsicle!

Berry season: decidedly of my favorite things about living in Oregon.