Portland Temple

We went to the temple. It was lovely.

We drove by the temple some other day previous to this trip, all DAM, and I commented on the fact that this temple has no windows. Have I ever told you that Miles drops the biggest eves of all time? Seriously, it's amazing. Dave and I will be talking quietly in the car and Miles will pop into the conversation all of a sudden and then I immediately feel like crap inside for all the times I said "crap" or "freakin" that day while he was listening all along. Anyway, Miles of course picked up on that tid bit of information and days later thought he saw a temple (a house with gold pointy things on the roof) in Salem. He let me know by saying, "That temple has windows!" I was like, "What?" and traced it all back and explained to him that a) that house wasn't a temple and 2) other temples have windows. Yes, Miles, allow your mind to be blown.

The last thing I have to say about this day is without supporting picture and pretty irrelevant/useless information. However, I don't think I'll soon forget the time I ate at the original Original Pancake House. First off, I'm pretty sure it was a buck or two more expensive unless they raised their prices across the board. Secondly, I really wanted an omelette that day, but I felt so loyal to what I know I love and I went with the 49er flapjacks. So, to this day, I've never had an omelette from the Original Pancake House. Next time. Thridly, I thought it was so cool being there and I wish I had a picture. They had pictures all over the walls of the original dude and his wife and them serving Miss America or whoever. Whomever? I was just really digging being in his original Original Pancake House. I guess I'm kind of stupid like that. Other peeps go to Abe Lincoln's house, I go to the original pancake man's house. One was a lot closer. Maybe we can carry on moving all the freakin time and live in every state and go to everybody's house. One can dream, right?

Poopy pops

Lately I've been thinking about the Californian in me. It's so weird to me when I get thinking about it. Allow me to elaborate. California doesn't really feel like home to me anymore. I'd say I feel most "at home" in the Inland Northwest/Northwest. Yet I lived all my life in California. Almost a whole 18 years before I left for school. I don't dream of it or really even miss it. It's just where I grew up before my life started. When I find myself sweating in sunny 70s, I stop and wonder how I survived in 100 degree desert summers. I remember being outside all the time, I remember our house feeling so cold when I'd go in for some ice water, but I don't remember wanting to die from the heat. I'd say sunny low 60s are my favorite temperature. Today's actual high was 78 and there was a time where I was totally a sweaty mess. Pathetic.

I found some Californian in me, though.

I didn't take this picture. Google images did.

Along one of our regular walks there are lovely bunches of poppies and other wild flowers. I love poppies. They are so happy and bright and orange. And Miles calls them "poopy pops." It makes me laugh every time. I realized that I really do have some California in my blood when I wouldn't let Miles pick that CA state flower. Then they chopped them down. But they are still poopy pops.

Oopsie Poopsie

Somehow, these few pictures didn't get uploaded when they were supposed to in the previous giant post. So now it's giant-er. Enjoy:

A Big One

A few weekends ago we were sure it was going to be sunny and warmer at the coast so we pulled an all day kind of deal, which is why this post is so very long.

These little shallow pools were great for Miles to play in. And they were warmer.

At a lookout of sorts:

Can't remember what that spot is called...

Almost every time we go to the coast we eat a dinner of chowder and fries at The Chowder Bowl in Newport. It's real tasty and the fries are rounds and also tasty. It's right by the beach and on a cool little street:

This is the Dave created "nose kiss." Most people would probably instinctively give something resembling an eskimo kiss, but Miles is going to be the weird kid who has no idea what that is. A nose kiss is just what you see with some sort of "boop" sound effect.

Going down to the beach:

This is Miles telling me we forgot the blanket. Typical Miles, with his ongoing mental checklist to make sure all things are in order.

This evening at the beach was so pretty. The sand was so reflective with the little layer of water and the ocean was so sparkly from the sunlight. It was lovely.

While Miles handled his ocean face plant like a champ, he was pretty stressed out about the water when we went back. Here he is running for all he's worth from the wave that's coming a mile away.

In the safe zone.

Pretty beach pictures:

We found some tide pools:

Super cool, if you ask me.

Two crappy self attempted family pictures for two good ones:

We rolled in after 10pm. Miles had fallen asleep, but held on until 9:30 or so. Maniac. You may or may not know that Miles doesn't really sleep in the car. He's not the type of kid you can move from car to bed while staying asleep so I was shocked and relieved that he did just that on this night. He even let me put pajamas on him and just kind of rolled to his side and stuck his little butt out like, "Ah, finally I can lay down." All in all, this was a very fun filled and memorable day.