a dingo ate my baby

so sad and so true. little grey was taken by a coyote in the wee hours last tuesday morning. it was awful, but i thought friends of grey should know. there was some monumental sobbing and me gathering little bits of fur which i now, sadly, have in a snack-size ziplock. so, remember her sweet soul and the many lessons she taught us, like "it feels good to poop outside" and "don't get eaten by a coyote".

little grey with a caterpillar friend

p.s. sometimes god works in mysterious ways. and by mysterious, i mean crappy.

420

"hiking is especaially fun if you get to wait in the car with the radio on, or also if the trail leads to a kfc."



trail sign in a haunted oregon forest. and look, it's number 420. even better.



joren and friends hiking. i'm lagging behind, rascal style.


(l to r) waterfall, foliage, beth, joren. this is the first picture we haven't taken of ourselves in months with joren stretching out his sasquatch arm holding the camera. it's safely tucked in his dungarees.

sure it's pretty. if you think mossy is pretty. because remember, jesus made us all, even the mossy ones.

land of the free

wow, they really ARE liberal out here. oh, it's just goats. hey wait a minute! goats for sale!

sea oats. they remind me of my friend oaty. partly because he's so wholesome and nutritious.

aww. poor little crab. he accidentally got clammed maybe by me and my clam tube. stupid crab. ps. i'm sorry i killed you.

clam license = license for fun

everything's more fun in rubber pants! especially clamming! i'm holding up my official license here. i'm also holding up pat's rubber pants.

okay. if you've never clammed, you've never lived. or smelled of clams for days. anyhow, that's the tube you use to get those rascals out of the sand. or, to make awesome sand tubes. your choice.

our friend pat took us down to the beach on joren's birthday, which coincided with a KACT: kick ass clam tide (super low tide). he's old school. see, he's got a crooked shovel instead of a pvc tube. i will remind you, however, crooked shovel = no awesome sand tubes.

uh huh. i caught my limit. 15 clam-a-roos. i've reverted back to my regular "mole eyes" for this photo. the rest of the morning i was using "clam eyes".

the best job ever! cutting open the clams while they're still wiggling and scraping out their unidentifiable squiggly things and clam poo.

some real, live portland stuff!

you can change my lisence plates, baby, but you CANNOT change the fact that i'm proud of my eagle scout.

in an attempt to fit in, we attended the veg fest. yes, it was as fun as it sounds. i say, where's the organic beer? macrobiotic margaritas? if you're drunk, anything can be fun and educational!

little grey trying to escape back to the midwest. or pat and mo's garden. or the food bowl.

here's my new office. it's where i pretend to be looking for a job.

nothing to do with portland

these are just some photos that maybe make me laugh a little. if they fail to bring a smile to your lips, perhaps you need to drink a little more.

sarah's efforts to reduce global warming, although noble, made her look a little retarded.

mmm, farm fresh beef. i mean, truck fresh.

this is a big ball of twine and a big ball of beth.

just a big ass pumpkin we saw last fall in portland. yeah, they love their giant squashes out here. that's what makes it so great.