What a great weekend. The weather was perfect. The sky was cloudless. And sun -- sun in February -- in Oregon. A true luxury.
The temperature probably did not get to 60, but it was shirt sleeve weather all three days of this weekend when we celebrate the existence of -- the presidency, I guess. No matter whether good or bad, everyone gets a prize. George Washington is no better than Millard Fillmore, and Abraham Lincoln did nothing more than Warren Harding. Almost like a 21st century suburb soccer team. No winners. No losers.
But Jiggs and I were not celebrating presidents. We were celebrating indolence. This was a three day bacchanalia of eating, reading, and sitting in the sun.
And walking in the sun. Jiggs and I took more spins around the park in the last three days than we usually do in a week. Beth of Minto Dog stopped by with her dog Gracie. We made another park circuit, and the aged Jiggs put on his best alpha impression for her -- Gracie, that is. She was not fooled. She knows a codger when she sees one.
I added this last picture as a tribute to Andee -- who I still speak and think of often. She loved photographs of doors. And I understand why. They are the very metaphor of life. There are so many, and they all open onto new adventures.
