. It's me; webbed feet, shriveled fingers and all. We had our picnic and concert at the Portland Zoo Sunday night and believe you me, it didn't just sprinkle. It rained! We sat on our wet sand chairs - and that's an unexpected shock to the tush, even when you see it coming! We listened to good music under dripping umbrellas. We stood inside the red lines to keep the fire lanes open and the people in black rubber coats with white letters spelling S-E-C-U-R-I-T-Y happy. Shawn Mullins (blurry photo; sorry) was good, we appreciated his guitar work, and when he finished ("House of the Rising Sun," last song) we tore into our picnic dinner. We ate our sandwiches as fast as we could before the bread got soaked. (Portland: average August precipitation - 1.1 inches) We tried to keep our brave faces on, but we agreed that we'd listen to one song by the Avett Brothers and then we'd scoot. Or, at least that's what three-fourths of our group agreed to. Note to self: Always make sure everyone's in agreement on "The Plan."
As soon as the Brothers took the stage three things happened: It got real crowded where we were down in front, it suddenly got darker and three of us got separated from the fourth person in our group.
Then there were only two of us - me and the Mister. Holding a small cooler and two umbrellas. In the dark. In the rain. We had come on the light rail train and didn't know where our friends had parked the car that would take us home.
Did I mention it was raining? Did I mention we were getting cold?
Voila! The trusty cell phone. We called both friends we'd lost in the crowd, the rain and the dark. All we got was the mechanical mistress of the cell phone: "Your call has been forwarded to an automatic ... etc."
My last picture is what I'm doing tonight in my dry, cozy little house. Is there anything more fun that getting together scissors, paint and crayons? Don't think so - femminismo