Oregon is known for long days of rain, or mist or fog or watevahs. Wet in some form. Clouds in gray form. I thought I going have hard time getting used to it after Hawai‘i, but ho, da surprise! Not! True, is not like home. But even da gray days can be cozy; I make a fire in da woodstove and if can find time, do some knitting in front of it.
Even though daffodils and crocus are starting to come up now, the skies still stay mostly gray. Like today, was gray almost all day.
I was going from da back of the house to da front, looking out at da gray, when something wen catch my eye. What? In the middo of wintah? How can be? I wen rub my eyes, thinking was some kine apparition oa something. But no. Was not!
There, in my dining room aka yarn room, was one bright splash of home. I wen smile, thinking of da big bush right outsai our house in Mānoa Valley, dat had pua jass lidis one dat wen brighten up my dining room, on one gray, gray day in Oregon: