When I’m closing in on the end of a writing project, I don’t think much beyond my computer and the job at hand. Hunger and thirst usually get me out of my office for meals but, otherwise, I am hunkered in for days at a stretch. Fortunately, dry weather and a big yard conspire to keep me from atrophying completely.
It’s all a matter of moving hoses. It takes about nine moves between two hoses to adequately water our garden. If I try to give everything a soak in one day – stopping the water, dragging the hoses, and turning on the water again – it equals quite a good exercise program. Those forays out of doors also give me a glimpse or two at the neighborhood and a chance to check on the chickens.
Yesterday morning, though, I stepped outside and felt as though I were staring at a great white wall that had just been thrown up between our place and the church. I was a tad disoriented for a moment until I realized that it was a bus – a gigantic tour bus, one of the biggest I’ve ever seen. It all but blotted out the countryside to the west.
A sign on its flank said “Cruise Victoria” and I could hear voices coming from the direction of the church, the lane, and over toward the schoolhouse. I assume those were the erstwhile occupants of the bus but, from what I could see, it might have still been totally occupied. Those one-way black windows gave no clue as to its contents.
From the bits and pieces of conversation I overheard, the visitors were having a wonderful time. And when I moved toward the north garden – the part we call “the croquet court” – I saw a knot of people with cameras pointed toward the cannon that lives just inside our fence. I was tempted to go over and talk to the group about The Honorary Oysterville Militia – maybe even recruit a member or two – but my manuscript was calling.
I returned to my hidey-hole wondering what I would find at the next hose-moving juncture. There are adventures everywhere in Oysterville!
Sydney,
Monday we returned to Portland after a lovely week in Oysterville and as we crossed the Columbia river bridge there was a huge cruise ship in the port. We saw evidence of the tourist in Astoria as we drove through. It reaffirms our opinion of this wonderful area to see others enjoying it. If we hadn’t had a symphony to attend we would still be enjoying Oysterville. Next week is doctor appointments and the start of watercolor workshops so we will be looking for a break to get back to one of the loveliest places on earth.
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