The Worst Trip Ever

Last week, Colleen, Cody, and baby Rowan 

flew out to Oregon to visit us.

It was their first time seeing Portland and 

while it should have been great

it was instead a complete and total disaster.

Everything that could have gone wrong did. 

To start, they were supposed to come out on 

Thursday and stay 6 days,

but at the last minute Cody had a work conference 

and they had to move their flight to Saturday. 

On Saturday morning they missed their plane and arrived 8 hours late.

The next day, the beautiful weather we had been having 

gave way to grey skies, rain, and snow.

Undeterred, the boys set out for their first day of fishing. 

Needless to say, they caught nothing. 

And the next day when they went out again: still nothing.

But this time, when they went to leave, they realized

the van was out of gas, and

had to call Uncle Steven to come bail them out.

Back at home, things were worse. 

Everyone was sick. 

Rowan spiked a temperature of 104 and had 

to go to the emergency room two days in a row.

Orin also had an emergency doctor's appointment.

The few pictures I have from the visit were taken

 during a short interval when

the babies stopped crying long enough,

and Colleen and I had taken enough cold medicine,

that we could all act like things were going well.

Here is Rowan, fishing for Orin.

Rowan was a determined fisherman. 

But, alas, I don't think he was ready to hook

a 20 pounder.

Even though the trip was a complete failure,

Colleen and Cody have promised to return some day

for the tour of the city that never happened, 

the hike in the Gorge that never happened,

the meal out at the great Portland restaurant that never happened, 

and a view of Mt Hood and Mt. St. Helens, 

neither of which emerged from behind the clouds the entire visit. 

After I dropped them off at the airport in the wee hours

of the morning, I went back to bed.

When I woke up, I drove back to the airport,

this time to pick up another visitor:

Auntie Andy.

Driving north on I-205 the sun was shining and I saw both

Mt Hood and Mt St. Helens clearly in the distance.

I took it as a sign that the bad luck spell was over.

And so far, it looks like I was right.

But more on Andy's visit later,

for now, I am still shaking this cold and so I am off to bed.