I have no dramatic, weird or suspenseful tales to tell about the weekend, in which we traded our city, finally glittering with what is always a deceptively bright and warm early Spring, for the basalt columns of the Frenchman Coulee and its bone-dry, shadeless basins. No mishaps, no injuries, no wrong trails. It was pretty boringly idyllic, and that was okay with us.
Two days straight of report writing and not seeing the outside of my house, I finally got fully vertical this afternoon and went to traipse along the shore at Alki. It was a blissfully self-indulgent afternoon, filled with: one necessary cappucino and one unnecessary mint green tea chocolate chip cookie, seventeen photos of my surroundings and my self portrait smiling in said surroundings, three of which I boastfully uploaded to every social media account I own, one long stroll upRead More