Friday the 13th was a good day.
A weekday / workday in Trout Lake means we place ourselves above our work. It means sitting, watching the jays at the feeders, home cooking, and shoulders relaxed to a level at least two inches lower than times when we are at our desks keying out paragraphs and fending off E-mails like ninja warriors defending against samarai sword swipes.
So, this morning, bicycled about 11 or 12 miles around the bucolic valley, with cows, views of two mountains and two rivers. Then, we finally made our way to the local swimmin’ hole (bottom photo). It’s too secret to disclose how to get there. The water is cold, so we figure we must get inner tube float toys so that most of our bodies can absorb the hot temps while our butts and feet keep us cool.
When we are in Portland, we think, “Why do we have a second house that we hardly visit?” When we get out here, we think, “Why are we living in Portland?”