The journey home, sparse as they usually are in the course of a year, mean that most of my visit is prescheduled by the time the plane even takes off. It's nice to know I will have things to do, but it is also kind of a burden. Feels like I have a full slate of appointments to attend to, and if I am late or don't show, I get into a lot of trouble. And these people hold grudges, they don't just kindly reschedule.

Such is the nature of the trip home that begins tonight. My best friend is picking me up from the airport. Originally, I had this splendid idea of going to a nice bar, throwing back a few, lingering. Now I am going to her house where her grandma is staying. It's not quite what I had in mind. Next day I have a ton of site visits to do in Portland - for friends doing design projects for the South Waterfront and Lloyd Crossing. Actually, since the Lloyd Crossing team hasn't explicitly emailed me with their intersections of concern, they might not make my day planner. They gotta act fast to get my help.

Damn, time to try to pack. I do hate packing. I really do. I have some horrendous packing stories. Like the time I had to pack for a month overseas to Thailand in 6 hours after having had no sleep in about 8 days. That was a lot of fun.

More from the road in the northwest....