Know Your Hostess

A couple of weeks ago we had dinner at a buffet in Bend. The hostess there had a lovely name, and when I asked about its origins she told me that one of her parents was Basque. It's not the first time I've asked personal questions of people I don't know, and almost always they're happy to answer. I worry that I'm going to offend someone, but I find myself doing it anyway.

Saturday we traveled east of Bend, just to see what was out that way. The highway signs said that the town of Burns was in that direction, and we decided to see what was there. We quickly found ourselves outside of town, in the middle of desert. It was deserted. Not even a 7-Eleven. Undeterred, we continued on, and encountered a sign that advised us that Burns was another 130 miles.

That deterred us. But the town of Millican was only 15 miles ahead, so we decided to drive to Millican, just to see what was out that way.

After 15 miles of desert, we arrived at Millican. It had one store, and nothing else. No homes in sight. No gas station. The store was derelict.

We drove a few miles further, saw more desert, then turned around. I considered this a success. We had learned what was east of Bend, and returned without tragedy. It's about the journey, not the destination.

Tonight (Tuesday night) we had dinner at the buffet again, because once again we were shopping at the neighboring department store. The same lovely hostess was there, and she asked what we'd like to drink. As always, I requested a Coke, and as seems to be usual here, I was asked if Pepsi was okay. In California, I stood about an even chance of getting Coke when I asked for Coke, but Bend seems to be a Pepsi place. I asked the hostess if she knew why that was.

She said she'd grown up in Burns, but that Pepsi seemed to be more common there, as well. Ever the opportunist, I asked her about Burns, and learned that it was in the desert, not the hills, it had about five thousand residents, and that tourists stopped there on the way to the mountains.

People are friendly here. I already know more about that hostess than I know about most of my co-workers.

Yesterday we visited the High Desert Museum. Despite the fact that we live in the hills, by a river, surrounded by pine trees and snow, we live in the high desert. Go figure.

Anyway, the museum is beautiful. It's decorated in stone and pine, like a modern ski lodge, as are many of the restaurants and other establishments in Central Oregon. It's a decor that I love.

We saw live bats, and owls, snakes and fish, birds of prey, venomous creatures, and a bunny. All denizens of the high desert. We attended a presentation on river otters, two of which live at the museum. There are otters that live in the river here, and they travel up to a half mile from the river, so I'm hoping that I find one in the yard at some point. Until that time, I'll have to content myself with the pictures I took of the otters at the museum.

There's so much to explore here. The Lava Lands Visitor Center. Lava river caves. A lava cast forest. Geocaches. Art galleries. A quilting festival in Sisters. The Shakespeare Festival in Ashland. The Sunriver Nature Center and Observatory. We're looking forward to it. Bring on spring!


Blog Tag: Chatter