Home, Wet Home

I arrived back at home in Oregon for the first time in over three months and was immediately reminded of how much I hate the rain. While I was in Colorado I completely forgot that such a thing as rain even existed.  No wet roads to drive, hardly a need for windshield wipers, I didn’t have to choose which coat to wear based on whether or not it had a hood, umbrellas were pointless, the sun was out every day. It was heavenly! Seriously, I didn’t appreciate it when I had it, but now that I’m back in the cloudy, gloomy, rainy weather I miss the dry, sunny Colorado weather. It snowed here today and even that was more wet than snow in Colorado. I’m not complaining about Salem; I love being home. I just forgot that home was wet. . . Oh, I read this joke in Reader’s Digest (I was bored) about Oregon: In heaven, someone asked why none of the Oregonians went to hell. The reply was that when they get there the devil throws them back out ’cause they’re too wet to burn. Ha! So true!

I felt truly at home while I was carefully manuvering the soggy streets of Commercial with my wipers swishing buckets of rain off my windshield and I pulled into Dutch Bros. Their coffee really isn’t that great, but something draws me to that cute little blue hut with the red and yellow tulips. I just felt like I was home. Maybe because we only have them in Oregon. So here I sit with my now-cold nonfat candycane mocha watching the gray skies drip rain and enjoying the comforting feeling of being home.

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