Ever play Oregon Trail? I was a fan of the first, crummy version where you watched a little pair of oxen pull a little bumpy wagon past the same four mountains and rocks over and over again. The wagon wheels and axles would break, you'd have to ford a river and your things would get wet, there were people to bury because of dysentery and fellow travelers to trade with when hunger struck. And if you made it to the end you were given a parcel of land-- 100 acres if you did well, as few as 1 if you almost died along the way.

Well we've made it out west. There were no wagons to repair or oxen poop to deal with, thankfully. The plot given us, temporarily, is an old home on its way to being fixed up, lots of room and a little charm. With the curtains hung and the kitchen stocked (thank you in-laws) it feels a little more like home. I can't imagine the shock of the pioneers when they spent months traversing dusty, rocky terrain and then laid their eyes on the emerald city, on western Washington where everything looks velvety and green. To think we passed it all in a few short hours, places like the Rocky Mountains simply hills a mile below.

Anyhow, we are here. The weather is a bit chilly, something like the weather of upstate New York in summer. I can't complain as the last few days have been sunny with fluffy clouds. The people around town, as always, are a bit cranky but it is refreshing after the constant, cheery small talk of Kentucky (which I find both pleasant and, at times, exhausting). I will keep you all updated but no pictures-- I always promise and never post them so this time no promises at all.