The First of Four

Bridge got married today, and it was Good.  Definitely in my top five weddings ever, and not just because I was rocking a cute red dress and perfectly matched shoes-and-nails.

Love Is a Stain Beneath my Skin

Festivities lasted long into the night, and I did my best to keep the dance floor rocking, as I do.  The DJ was not making it easy, with his terrible transitions and occasionally questionable song-choices, but fortunately I am essentially a dance-slut and can/will dance to just about anything.

The Race that Knows Joseph

Things happened today, but none so excellent as what happened in the evening.

Rustic!

We rolled into our new digs in the afternoon, and I chilled out and read whilst Nathan produced larger and larger fireballs in an attempt to get the charcoal grill going without a charcoal chimney.  It did eventually work, and after we'd eaten the dinner he grilled for us, we wandered about two miles down the road to Twenty Mile House, just in time to catch the dessert-and-drinks portion of Bridge's rehearsal dinner.

The next five hours were... well, pretty amazeballs.  You know how sometimes you meet new people, but it turns out they're not new at all, they're just old friends you haven't yet encountered in this life?  It was like that.  With a lot of drunken, glowing bocce ball.

Yeah, definitely my kind of kindred spirits.

What More is There?

I mean really: penguins and bling.  C'mon.

Today was a bit of a cram-it-all-in sort of day.  We started out in Truckee, where we ate at the oft-recommended Squeeze In (I had French toast!) and explored the "historic downtown", which probably would have been of greater interest to us if either Nathan or myself were even remotely "shoppers".  But we're not, soooo... that sort of thing can only entertain us for so long.

From there we indulged my macabre side by visiting Donner Memorial State Park, where I proceeded to depress the crap out of myself.  Woo?  On the upside, it did provide me with fodder (sorry) for one of my stories, which was the underlying point of my insistence on going there.  Plus we did a little nature walk, which I gleefully narrated.  (Increasing my husband's Suffering Levels is always highly entertaining).

Then it was drive, drive, drive, all the way down to Emerald Bay, because a) we'd heard it's gorgeous and b) I wanted to see Vikingsholm.  After a descending hike that reminded us (rather ominously) of the one down to Crater Lake, we discovered that we'd gotten there just in time to miss the last tour of the day, so instead we toured the museum, went scrambling up to see Lower Eagle Falls, and then walked around the outside of Vikingsholm peering in windows like the creepers we are.

(As it turns out, the hike back up wasn't quite so bad as the one at Crater Lake, but I think that was mostly due to it being well-shaded.)

UnExpectations

Reno is not what I was expecting.

Which is kind of a funny statement to make, since, if you'd asked me 24 hours ago what expectations I had for Reno, I'd have said, "None."  But then I got here and realized that apparently I did have expectations, since obviously they were being subverted.

In retrospect it appears that I was expecting a sort of poor-man's Vegas (not that I particularly associate Vegas with richness of any kind but... you know...).  A place with such hustle and bustle and filthy glitter that I'd take one look around and go, "Yep, well, we're done here."

But as it turns out Reno isn't like that.  It's quite pleasant, so far.  And quiet, which I am a fan of. And the people are friendly, too, which shouldn't particularly surprise me because more often than not people are friendly in strange cities.  Besides, surely Bridge would have warned me if it was going to be otherwise.

Ah yes, Bridge.  He's the reason for this little excursion of ours- he's getting married this weekend, up near Lake Tahoe, and since Nathan and I had never been to the area, we jumped at the chance to turn it into a mini-vacation.

The flight in was... interesting, to put it politely.  It was probably nerve-wracking-bordering-on-fun for those who enjoy roller-coasters, but lately I have been particularly prone to motion-sickness and thus it was just nerve-wracking for me.  And Nathan, who was probably worried for his shirt (he shouldn't have been- I clung tenaciously to the air sick bag through even the most stomach-inverting moments of turbulence).

Places to Go, People to See

But we arrived safe and sound and learned that Reno may just be the friendliest airport in the US.

We met up with Bridge at Niko's Greek Kitchen (his excellent recommendation) and afterwards Nathan took off to explore the Riverwalk area while Bridge and I headed over to BaseCamp.  They'd just reopened after about six months of renovations, so we got the thrill of being the very first (non-gym-affiliated) people to climb their 164' wall.  Yep, we multi-pitched at a climbing-gym, outdoors.  It was awesome and perfect and so wonderful to be climbing with Bridge again.  The girl who ran us through our paces was explaining that although the route we chose was rated 10b, it was just for the endurance- the moves were nothing above an 8.  And she was right about that- easy fun jugs the entire way, but it was a long way!  The most amusing part of the whole thing was people on the strip below us offering up commentary.  Thus have I taken my turn as a Tourist Attraction in Reno.

(also unexpected)

Just Can't Get Enough

Likelihood of me tiring of images of roses before the season is out?

HIGHLY UNLIKELY

A Most Curious Development

Nathan and I drove up towards St. Helens today to get in one last hike before the pig bull has to undergo surgery (more on that later).  She and I ambled about whilst Nathan hurled angry words at uncooperative waterfalls, and I came across several examples of this curious little fellow:

But what IS it?

All These Imaginary Things

There is a particular rose bush in my garden in possession of blossoms which can only be described as "dusty red".  Photographs do not properly capture the effect:

cameras have a hard time with reds

I like this particular plant for a number of reasons.  First and foremost, it manages to survive in spite of my clumsy care, and has only given me more blooms every summer since we moved in.  Secondly, it is a rose, and it smells quite sweet, and I like pretty things that smell sweet.  Thirdly, it has lovely thorns, which is every bit as important as having lovely blooms.  Fourth, the fact that every time I look at it, at the particular shade of its petals, I think, Rose Dust, and I smile a little nostalgic smile.

Rose Dust was the name of my imaginary friend.  Let me clarify- the imaginary friend I had when I was somewhere between the ages of six and eight.  In retrospect I think her name was nicked from My Little Pony, or some such (and a quick internet search verifies that foggy memory).  Anyway she was everything that was perfect to the little girl that was me- long golden hair, blue eyes, perfectly poised, and sixteen.  Lord, yes, the magical age that was sixteen.

(Little did I know how much better my thirties would be.)

My other imaginary friends (because why would you have only one?) were a pair of cheetahs.  Yes, cheetahs.  I can't remember both of their names, but one of them was Honeysuckle.  I do, however, distinctly remember my mother telling me that I might ought to not take my invisible friends with me to school, as people don't always understand that sort of thing.  I also remember explaining to the perfect, glittering girl and the two cheetahs that they couldn't come with me, but that they should wait for me.

I wonder if they still do.