It’s 6:55 PM on Wednesday. I just finished my 10,000 steps here in Cannon Beach.

It is so fortunate that we didn’t bring puppies along. The courtyard at the Inn at Cannon Beach is FULL of bunnies—white ones, black ones, tan ones, black and tan ones. Some are big, some are medium, and some are tiny. There is no Dachshund in the universe, Academy-trained or not, that wouldn’t bolt to the end of his/her leash to take down a bunny. From what I’ve seen, Bella and Jojo are WAY faster than ANY of the Cannon Beach bunnies. I can only imagine the tumult that would ensue if one of them caught one of those itty-bitty things and brought it back in triumph having broken that little bunny’s neck with one of their powerful, hunting dog shakes. Any little kids out running around outside would be traumatized for life.

As we were preparing to come to Oregon, the weather channel said that Sunday would be the only nice day and that rain would be here by Tuesday. Fortunately the weather man was dead wrong. It was windy and cold on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, but it didn’t rain. It was sifting sands windy and cold, but it didn’t rain.
We’re from the Pacific Northwest. We layered. The people from California wore bikinis. As far as I’m concerned, they’re nuts.

Tonight as we were leaving the beach, the fog was rolling in, and at five o’clock in the afternoon, the seagulls were finding places to bed down in the sand. This evening while I was walking the bunnies were cozying up as well, and so were the birds. In other words, the predicted storm is coming a few days late. We’ll probably drive home tomorrow in drenching rain, and I’m hoping at least a little of that moisture will make it to eastern Washington and help douse some of those terrible, record-setting forest fires.

Walking my laps tonight, I noticed that here on the Oregon Coast, the hydrangeas are still in full bloom—deep lavenders, purples, blues, and whites—unlike our faded, ghostly hydrangeas back home in Bellevue. And I found myself suffering a case of fuchsia envy. As near as I can tell, fuchsia bushes don’t thrive back home where we live.

Vacation has been fun. But it’s time to pack up, go home, and go to work.