Nothing extraordinary.  Just a lovely summer week.

Connie and I celebrated 20 years of friendship with the Lunch Bunch at Minto Island Growers and Konditorei cake back at Connie’s.  She got my favorite — Raspberry Lemonade.  Lots of pink powdered sugar icing.

And a leisurely end-of-the-week paddle on the Willamette with Dave.  Smooth water.  Friendly heron.

Good friends.  Good food. Good river.  I guess that is extraordinary after all.

I was reading an article in the New Yorker about student complaints at “elite” liberal arts colleges when I came across a mouth-boggling phrase: cissexist heteropatriarchy.

Now, that’s giving my Spell Check fits!. But I can figure out what it means, even though I went to a big state university.

There were claims of racism when the “ethnic” offerings served in the “food commons” (read: cafeteria) were deemed not authentic. Good lord.  I hope they didn’t serve General Tso’s chicken or  Hawaiian pizza.  Maybe you could just eat the food your parents paid for and be grateful.  They’re no longer there to tell you you have to clean up your plate.
And a student actually wanted “trigger warnings” when her class studied Antigone because it offended her womanhood. Poor baby. And “baby” is the only word I can think of to apply here.

You’re in a prestigious college. Lucky you! Now, stop complaining, be a grown up, and get to class.
Whatever your sexuality, your color, your economic status,  your frailties, in the adult world, you will often be confronted with people who treat you unfairly for so many reasons. Be strong. Learn to cope. Let that be one of the first lessons you learn in college. And you might even learn something about how to do that by studying Antigone.

Good pictures tell a story with no need of a narrative and say so much more than words can.

Still, There are things to be said.

A desk tells so much about the couple who share it.

Something needs to be said about a scary message on the back of a pickup truck at a gas station stop, but I can’t think what to say.

Putting my feet up on my boat and bird-watching in the rocking chair from the front window say a lot about who I am becoming.

Where but in the Badlands of Eastern Oregon would you find a rest stop with an area to exercise your horses?

There were many signs I didn’t slow enough down to photograph.

And mountains and canyons too many to name them all.

Wisely driving through SLC mid-day on a Saturday, I laughed at a sign that read “Modest Attire for Brides and Moms,” followed shortly by a sign advertising an “adult shop.”

Out in Eastern Oregon, BLM does not stand for “Black Lives Matter.” (You’ll never see a black face out there.) But I did see signs that read “Support the Hammonds,” and “This is your public land.”

Moving safely with the flow of traffic (Read: 80 mph and the occasional ranch vehicle.) I caught glimpses of  Rattlesnake Road, Road Kill Ranch, and  next gas 99 miles.

Finally, proof of a 2310 road trip.  Too much fun.

Last evening, we drove over to nearby Paonia to hear picking’ and strummin’ and eat good food.  On the way, we stopped off at Ace Hardware in Hotchkiss to buy a wind chime. Also picked up some cans of Pelegrino to sustain us.  You can get anything at Ace.

Entering the park, the first thing we saw was this commemorative statue honoring the town’s miners.

Elizabeth called my attention to his facial expression:

Food/beer venders play a big part at the Paonia Park gathering.  I personally enjoyed a homemade pot pie and a strawberry-rhubarb one.

I did enjoy the music

but mostly, I enjoyed people watching.  I didn’t quite fit in.  I was the only woman there with lipstick on.  Most of the women had very long, beautiful hair, much of it was gray.

And the men!  Breathtaking! I tried to document without being intrusive. Here are a couple of representative shots I was able to get.

Mountain men!

I asked a toddler if I could take a picture of his tee shirt, but he declined by lying down on his tummy.  It had a picture of a VW bus on it.  The caption read:  “What would Jesus Drive?”

Today we were on a very splashy leg of the Gunnison. For that, you need inflatables. My crack team readied the equipment while I entertained the dogs.Elizabeth and Gypsy led the way.

Abby and I were expertly powered in the raft by Matt.  Seems like I generally have a dog photo-bombing my shot.

This is a very exciting run.  Unfortunately, you can’t take pictures when you’re splashing.