Both my sons called me yesterday. Spenser called when I was out on a long, hot, late-afternoon walk to talk about ‘Goosebumps.’ We talked about ‘Goosebumps.’ Cameron called in between long walks, when I was sitting here in the warehouse formerly known as the basement studio. He called to say that he and my grandson Logan were leaving Montana early this morning making their way towards Los Angeles, via Las Vegas. Cameron has two days of creative film-making just outside LA, and then, he said, they were going up the coast and across state lines and arrive in Portland late afternoon next Monday. It will be the first time I have seen my oldest son in three years. Yeah, goosebumps.
Cameron also said he was thinking of picking me up early from their motel – after spending time together Monday afternoon – and driving out Tuesday to Astoria to spend the day there. To spend the day in Astoria with Cameron and Logan will be beyond words – I’m crazy for Astoria – see my best book, ‘Astoria Strange,’
I’ll just say that unpacking my five-years-away boxes has offered one “oh my head” I totally forgot moments after another. This photo literally buried under books in one of those boxes as evidence. Evidence any day I’m lucky enough to wake to comes to fetch me, again and again. With ‘Goosebumps,’ with goosebumps, and with one of my ever favorites of my long ago Florida boys.
from a mountain bench 
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