We’re in Portland. Our apartment is lovely — hardwood floors and nice big rooms. There are even roses growing outside our windows. Not just any old roses either — big, fat, luscious ones. So far we’ve spent more time at Ikea than we have really hanging out in Portland, but we did go to our neighborhood patisserie this morning and it is absolutely delicious.

So far no Ursula Le Guin sightings despite my time walking down Thurman St. I’m suspicious of pretty much every woman in her age range, but I’ve seen her picture and I’m pretty sure they aren’t her. Unless she’s one of those people who look nothing like her photo or is going around disguised. If I don’t run into her soon, I’ll just have to start chatting up every woman I meet on the street.


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  1. Bridget, suddenly it occurred to me– you have a blog! I could read things in it! I wouldn’t have to wonder how things are going! Now I see the beauty of blogging. I am like one of those people suddenly able to see after cataract surgery. What’s so obviously great is that you don’t have to write all this wonderful, Bridget-style commentary on your life over and over, for us all to be there with you. You do a great job of sounding exactly like yourself when writing. It conveys the pre-move state and your after-move exploration so well. I have to stop burbling. I’m really getting a lot out of an online class in marketing manuscripts. It uses LiveJournal, so I’m getting sort of used to the medium.

    Blessings on you and the kitties and Barrett as you settle in and find Ursula and discover all the places that you’ll come to love. Way to go, explorer gal! My best, Julie

  2. Yay, Julie! I’m glad you’re keeping up with me here and that you’ve had a blog epiphany. I really think we should get one going with the whole writers group because I want to know what you all are doing too!

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