I am now officially 1+ months behind in my bloggedy blog mcblog… so I pinky swear to follow up in the next few days with some snapshots of work and life over these last several weeks.

In the meantime, I’m over the moon to share with all 2 of my official followers news of my first major publication feature in the Winter 2012 issue of 1859 magazine.  Contributor profile included!  Published out of Bend, Oregon, it’s a beautiful magazine {I would have said this EVEN IF I hadn’t been published} that embraces completely it’s tagline to “live. think. explore” all the things that make Oregon so spectacular.

My feature originally started as a personal project “{Alone} on Belmont” and expanded into a more general profile of the people and places that make SE Belmont St fabulous {in my humble opinion}.  I absolutely loved the opportunity to meet so many interesting people who were so generous with their time and stories.

And now, without further ado…

One year shy of 40, I felt the celebration of the last chapter of my 30’s needed to be spent with people in places that bring me some measure of peace with the journey that has been my life thus far.  Besides being showered with love from friends + family, I spent the weekend with a dear friend + her best friend {of the four legged Bernese Mountain Dog variety} out in Hood River.

And I might have brought my camera.

I picked cherries at a friend’s farm and celebrated the sun and all was right with the world for just a few brief hours.

Thank you for a beautiful weekend my new friend.  You are more than sweeping bridges and expansive views.

You are pillow top beds that allow for a full 8 hours of sleep and then some.  And Aveda soaps that make my running clothes smell like they just took a jog to the spa.  You are Sunday markets out my front doorstep.  And hot from the oven bread samples at the Sunday market that remind me that a girl can’t live on bread alone and could sure use a cup ‘a joe to go with that bread.  You are strangers in hotels and coffee shops and on the street who don’t remain strangers long.  And who go out of their way to give directions, share some history, tell a story, charge a dead car battery.

Yes, you are more than sweeping bridges and expansive views.

{and for dessert}