Excuse me while I just lick this salt off my fingers...

Top Five Signs Your Work-From-Home Arrangement Just Might Include Too Many Potato Chips:

1. You know that the keys you use most often on your computer are "A" and "E" because they are the most encrusted with salt.

2. When you walk into your office, the dog automatically stations herself under the desk with her mouth open to catch dropped chips.

3. Whenever you stand up, inches of crumbs fall from your lap and slowly drift down toward the floor (and the dog, see #2).

4. You find yourself thinking they go with everything; nothing garnishes banana bread quite like a nice crispy Sour Cream & Onion potato chip.

5.  You consider having potato chips with your lunch, but think to yourself, "Oh, but I had chips for breakfast."

A sigh of contentment

I'm feeling particularly sunny and happy today.  Maybe it's because it's sunny outside, with a clear blue sky and delightfully cool temperatures.  Maybe it was almost 30 miles of biking on country roads before 10 a.m. Maybe it's because a new neighbor delivered a fresh hot loaf of banana bread to my door this morning. Maybe it's because it's now been a full month since the last time I had to commute on the Washington DC Metro (which, don't get me wrong, provided pretty good service so long as you were willing to be crammed into a train with hundreds of other sweaty people and get your ass groped once or twice a month).  Maybe it's that we're finally nearly unpacked and at last I know where my other pair of running shoes are.

(Mike and our chariots in downtown W3, note they are not even locked up!)

After just three weeks here, we are already getting into the tempo of our new country mice lives.  We walk places:  to the store, to friends' houses, to work, to the local pub.  We get outside: biking along long country roads, running through trails cut into fields, walking the dog in the evening and staring at all the stars. We chat with folks: the neighbors (seriously, thank you for that bread), the woman at the boutique in town (about whom I now know more than some people I worked with in DC for years), the guy at the Farmers' Market who answered a question about native plants with a long disquisition on the very meaning of "native," the pilot down the street who as it turns out can, indeed, recommend a good vet. We cheered at our first local parade although we missed the big annual fair (see note above about emptying boxes in search of running gear), but are vowing to hit the Round-Up down in Pendleton next month (even money says I come home with another pair of cowboy boots).

(There is a special place in heaven for guys who volunteer to be the rodeo clown with the pooper scooper in a horse-filled parade)

There's really only one more thing that will make this first holiday in W3 (Walla Walla, Washington) absolutely perfect.  Yes, a nap.  Maybe after another piece of banana bread. Here's the August monthly report, although somehow August already feels really far away.