I don’t imagine anyone will find special interest in yet another picture of clouds billowing off the end of an airplane wing. It’s just that I can’t resist taking such pictures, and I can’t stop marveling at the very fact that a bunch of people file into a 500,000-pound (+/-) airplane-shaped tin can with proportionately tiny wheels, and something called thrust and jet propulsion combine to get that thing first up in the air and eventually down again. We people file out in some other airport and go about our business as though this “miracle” were an everyday occurrence.

After driving myself home from the airport, I walked into 514 at about the same time our family-dinner guests were arriving.


Seventeen of us crammed into our tiny living room.


There’s never a shortage of words and laughter around the Macy/Williams/McIndoo clan.


Erin’s parents, Ed and Joy Hatch, are in the process of making their home in Newberg, so we are glad they’ll be joining our dinners every month. Here’s Ed’s show ‘n’ tell—his “geek vest,” which showcases souvenir pins from the 23 (or so) national parks he and Joy have visited in their RV since their retirement last year.


No time to clean up the dinner mess, ’cause we were off to attend the 5 o’clock service at Imago Dei Community in Portland, where our nephew’s baby boy was to be dedicated. He’s grown more than a bit since we last saw him just three months ago.


What could be more hopeful than a platform of committed parents and their babes?


Then on to Derin and Andra’s home for a celebration open house.


Baby K was plumb worn out from all the celebrating. And I have to admit, I was too, and glad to head home to unpack my suitcase.

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