WELL, I NEVER...

The other morning the window washers were dripping on the commuters who walked below. I always wonder how they set up their operation, and if they are rock climbers on the weekend.


Carey got a new job! She'll be working for Rapha, a British cycling apparel company with a new office in Portland. So, Carey and Myles are off to live in a new city. Ross and I stopped by on Friday to help them load their UHaul.


It was a beautiful evening, the second day of spring, and when the moon came out it still looked full.






Goodbye to their lovely apartment...it will be fun to visit them in Portland. Congratulations, Carey!



On Saturday the sun was shining, the flowers were bursting out everywhere. All the kids were cycling around, showing off their bikes and their hairdos and their sneakers. Ross and I pedaled down to a nearby coffee shop and drank Italian bottled drinks.

And smelled the flowers that have been making my nose run for weeks.

I can't hold it against them.


The purpose of this particular ride was to try out my new commuter, resurrected by Ross from a mishmash of my old Schwinn, Ross' old Bianchi, and a few new parts. (I helped a little.)


I am in love...







Our hallway is at capacity.


Then we met TS and Jerritt at the Lee Center for the Arts to watch the Matt McCormick films.
On one wall: Abandoned hotel and swimming pools, roadside dinosaur attractions, blinkless neon under blue skies. On the other: the remains of buildings in the Western landscape. One reaction: They made me homesick, and made me want to sit down in some grass somewhere and watch the sky, hear the wind, take a deep breath.



We walked across Capitol Hill to The Redwood for some pre-sunset cocktails. (Long days!)





Sloan and Jenny met us there.






At Tim Brown's art opening, a little later, we saw Craig.

And then we were off to Georgetown for a little Honkfest--a "marching band" festival.


Bugles, clarinets, bari saxophones. Sousaphones, trombones and drums galore.

These bands dance more than they march. My favorite band was the one from Eugene, all drumming like Brazilians.








This guitar was made of car horns and a car alarm that warned us all of the incoming jelly bean bombs their friend was shooting in approximately one minute intervals. TS wants to borrow the guitarist's outfit.


And then it was Easter.


So I made a puffy pancake, using the duck casserole dish my mom gave us for Christmas.


It was very puffy when it first came out of the oven, but by the time I photographed it, it had collapsed.






As Sloan says, Happy Feaster.