Today was a good day to live in Bend. We’ve been getting quite a bit of snow over the last few days, and seeing as how it was 50 degrees and raining on the last day I spent in Minnesota, the winter is far more attractive back here in Central Oregon. This morning everything was covered in hoar frost, all trees, buildings and sidewalks coated in a protective layer of frigid spikes.
After work, Claus-Man announced that he was to meet his wife at the Deschutes Brewery, and Drew-Bert and I were more than happy to tag along to the tune of a few pitchers of seasonal I.P.A. As it turns out, Morgoth and Diamond Jim had found their way to the pub, and Scotty-D was hanging out there as well. All told, we damn near had an Alpine outing on our hands, even though our Great and Horrible Send-Off Party isn’t scheduled until this Friday.
Wednesday night is reserved for the Bend Bloggers, Thursday for Erik and Fish and the rest of the extended Lava House family, but Friday night is all Alpine. The plan is to start drinking at our regularly scheduled noon staff meeting and not stop until everyone blacks out. It appears that I’ll already have a two-day head start on everyone, and I will be seriously surprised if I remember the end of this week.
It’s been a good run here in Bend, and I can definitely see myself coming back here again. The town is incredibly beautiful, the people impossibly active, and only about every seven months or so do all the volcanoes manage to bury the town in red-hot cinders.
Nevertheless, you can’t return to find your home buried under ten feet of ash if you never bother to leave it in the first place.