Day 852

I don't like using the words bucket list. To me they suggest that your life is over. Or at least near the end. I still come back to the sucking out the marrow tour.

Mt. Hood, Timberline Lodge. Check.

Tillamook Cheese Factory. Check.

Cannon Beach. Check.

Mount St. Helens. Check.

All places I've wanted to visit and never did it. Until this trip. In just a few days time. Today was the Mount St. Helens Day.

In 1980 I was in California and hubby was in Fruitland, Idaho, his hometown. When Mount St. Helens blew, Fruitland - hundreds of miles away - was one that received ash. 

Now Mount St. Helens has trees and shrubs and wildflowers in some places and is still pretty desolate in others. I even caught some steam coming out. I took tons of pictures and these are my best.

Day 851

You could say Portland, Oregon is an interesting town. A town full of interesting people.

Portland Saturday Market - held on Sundays too - is a great place for people watching. And music listening. And food eating. We did all of the above.

Music listening and people watching.

I thought food eating was going to happen when I stood (sat on my scooter, that is) in the long line here:

And picked up an apple fritter for me:

But hubby had another idea for his doughnut. When I found him sitting in the shade and gave him a Mango Tango doughnut he had already started on his own unique lunch combination.

A dark beer, a plate of fries, and a mango-filled doughnut. 

Guess I'm married to one of the interesting Portland people.