I thought I might just do a post without being handed the topic by someone else! Novel idea! (no pun intended)
We spent the weekend in Spokane, which, for those who don't know, is the butt of many jokes for those who live in Seattle. It's like, so hickville. Or at least that's what I like to tell my man, since he has a sensitive spot about where he grew up. In actuality (don't tell him) I really love it there, but what I don't love is the driving time it takes to get there. States here in the west are so darn huge it takes a whole day just to drive across 3/4 of Washington... which is why it always astounds me when I hear about people commuting from states away on the East Coast - like from Baltimore to New York City. It's unthinkable!
At any rate, Jesse's parents not only live outside of "downtown" (which is empty over the weekend since no one actually lives downtown - weird) but way outside the little suburbs too. The live ON A MOUNTAIN. Granted, it looks like a little pimple when you've just driven through the Cascades, but it's still a pretty big hill, this Spokane Mountain. And it's surrounded by some of the most beautiful farmland I've ever seen. (Here's where I pause to kick myself repeatedly for taking the camera case but forgetting to check to see if the camera was in it- which, of course, it was not). The hills are rolling, covered by new crops that look so lush and grow-y that I am always tempted, just a little, to jump wildly out of the speeding car and have a few minutes of frolic. I'm sure the farmers would really appreciate the wheat I would kill while doing so.
Jesse has 2 brothers and 2 sisters and 2 parents. That makes 7 people, but since he married me and lives with me, there are 6 of them in the house. The house was built by his dad and is nestled in the middle of the forest- next to a "crick" (oh how I wish I was hick enough to use this word). The crick even has - get this- trout in it. Last year Jesse and I strung some rope on a stick and went fishing. I caught an 8-inch trout. It was beautiful. And so unbelievably rustic.
The sister closest to him in age (Holly - she's my age) is getting married in August, so we went over for the bridal shower some ladies from the church were throwing for her. I'm a bridesmaid, which is a tremendous privilege. We sipped punch and played polite bridal shower games and Holly daintily removed packaging from a hundred gifts while I scribbled frantically to write down who each gift was from. This is a lot easier to do if you actually know the majority of the people at a shower.
On Sunday, the next youngest sibling, Andrew, turned 18. Since he's also graduating, we had a small graduation party after church. The highlight (of my day, at least) was the tiny, 6-week-old chocolate lab puppy that appeared as his gift. This puppy was so cute and so sad. He has the saddest eyes I've seen in a dog apart from a basset hound. They were just about that sad. I didn't know baby labs have sad eyes. His dad also bought himself a poodle puppy, which still confuses me a little, since men loving poodles just doesn't make that much sense to me. But for whatever reason, Jesse's family dearly loves poodles. The puppy was, I will grudgingly admit, very adorable and tiny. (Pause again for kicking due to the lack of camera).
Then we got in the car and drove the interminable drive home, arriving much later than intended and dreading the week ahead. It would have been a nicer week than a weekend. Oh well.