Better wear your hoody

Maybe it is just me, but until we moved here I always referred to a sweatshirt with a hood as a "hooded sweatshirt." They call them "hoodies" here. Everybody has at least one. A hoody is worn in the rain in preference to an umbrella or to a standard rain coat and a hat of some sort. Yep, locals wear a cloth hoody in the rain...well, most do at least.

We have had beautiful weather leading up to this weekend with warnings that come Friday, things were going to change. The prediction was for continuing rain through Monday. The pictures the wx guy showed had these big red arrows pointing at us from about 2,000 miles out in the Pacific... a narrow band of rain-laiden clouds with Portland bore sighted. I think the NWS calls it the "freight train effect." Last night they backed off a bit saying that the weather would be wet, that Saturday would be the worst, and come Monday...sunshine.

As most know, Aleene is a trooper. She will get up early if there is a good reason, but some days she reminds me of an animal found on some farms that just will not change their mind. Our agreement last night was that if it was just sprinkling come morning we would walk our usual two miles...there was grocery shopping and Asher keeping on the schedule also, so we had to get going early. And the rain started before we turned in. You could hear it in our downspouts...gurgle, gurgle, gurgle.

When I awoke about 6:30 I did not hear the rain. It sounded as if it had stopped. I waited. I listened. I finally nudged her, well I did something else that I will not explain further, to get her attention and she just said, "no, it is raining." I got up and looked around..."no rain here," says I. "Look for puddles on the deck," says she, "and check the radar."

I did as she asked (I always do) and talked her into walking...with one caveat: "Better wear your hoody."

We trudged off in our usual northward path...across 99W towards GFU, across campus under the oaks and past the rose garden to the newly resurfaced, rubberized track. It was 7:30. One lap down, then two, and I was just exclaiming about the beauty of the morning when the gentle sprinkle intensified. Lap three was not so bad, but by the start of lap four it was raining hard. Now, hard rain here is not like in the east. This was not a downpour or a gully washer...it was a deliberate outpouring from the heavens...steady and wet; very wet.

Our hoodies protected us (we had rain proof hoods on too) but the water, as it always does, was running down our outer wear to our jeans. Our thighs were getting soaked. Now we are a half mile from home when our last lap concluded, so we trudged on at the same speed knowing full well that by the time we came to Coffee Cottage we would be WET. And we were. After a brief stop we laughingly made it home tearing layers of clothing off as we came in the door. Aleene had been complaining trough out our walk (in her own inimitable way) that her toes were wet. When she pulled off her old NB sneakers she could see why: There was a big (about two inch) gash at the sole. The shoes they had worn out.

Ah yes, the Northwest in November. Luckily it was in the mid 50s this morning, so we were wet, but certainly not cold after walking two miles and consuming 16 ozs. of hot coffee.

As the morning unfolded we shopped, got our flu shots for the season at the grocery/drug store and came home to greet Mr. Asher and his mom who were already waiting for us. The morning was a success. Just another day in Newberg; wet hoody and all.