Woke up to sunlight. Disorienting due to gale rains all last night. But there it is, stretching through the windows and blinding me. I decided to drive to the beach, pulled on a sweatshirt and jeans, two hats and shoes and left without eating breakfast or combing my hair...not that I ever do: comb my hair.
I like living on the edge of the continent. It's like living at the end of the world, which makes me think of the first section of "The Waves" by Virginia Woolf, which makes me think about how I forgot my copy of "Mrs.Dalloway" back in Portland.
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Now I'm home, settling in for a day of cleaning, unpacking, organizing, and orienting. Also, reading and napping. Tea is brewing, oven is cooking. I might even be getting over my recent sickness, or the herbal tea is kicking in.
A word about my oven: when you open the door it touches the cupboard opposite which means the person operating the oven must stand to one side and lean across the open oven door area. My fear of horribly burning off my face has returned and increased by about 20 percent. It's also damnably difficult to get things in and out, but that might be because I don't have pot holders. Add that to my fridge list (held up by a Eugene Public Library magnet). The German pancake, however, smells amazing and I don't care if I burn my hands off at the wrist trying to get it out.
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