Do you need artythings? I bet you do, and I bet you will love the wares my friend Lorien has for sale over at tra la la. She regularly posts about items as she makes them, so keep your eyes open for new stuff!

Plans are afoot. Those of you who have been around for a while might remember that nearly a year ago, I drove up to Seattle to visit my parents, my brother—who was about to move to Korea—and some of you nice people. I talked my mom into coming along with me on the way back down so that we could stop at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival in Ashland. I had wanted to go to the festival for years, but had never gotten past the brochure stage. The two of us had a fabulous time, and before we left, we decided that we should go every year.

I was talking to my mom on the phone last week, and I happened to see the booklet for this year's festival, which I got in the mail a few months ago. "Hey, are we going to go to Ashland again this year?" I asked.

Within the next twelve hours, we had talked my dad* and Jeff into coming along, purchased our tickets, and reserved a couple of hotel rooms at a 50% discount, courtesy of my mother's impressive travel agent mojo. We'll be seeing Wild Oats, Present Laughter, and A Midsummer Night's Dream. There were only 50 tickets left for A Midsummer Night's Dream when we called, and as it turned out, one of the only blocks of four seats left was a four-seat box up on the right. While I'm not sure that the box will provide us with the greatest view we could get, we will no doubt make up for it with the opportunity to make jokes about the unwashed masses below: "Tom's of Maine deodorant doesn't work, you dirty Oregon hippies!"**

Soon, our plans had expanded. Over Christmas, Jeff's parents had invited us to go camping in Tahoe with them this summer. Their camping trip starts just after our Ashland visit ends, so we'll be piggybacking the two. In addition, since our dogs love hiking and swimming—and since we prefer not to leave them home when we travel if we don't have to—we're bringing them along. However, since we can't bring the dogs to Ashland, we'll be dropping them off in Carson City, then heading to Napa, then heading to Ashland, then going back to Carson City, and then to Tahoe. Then home.

It sounds so simple when I put it that way!

* When I say "my dad," I usually mean my stepfather, since he's been my stepdad for nearly twenty years.
** I have nothing against hippies or Oregon. I actually mesh quite well with hippies. A friend once told me that no matter what I was wearing, random hippies on the street always shot me an "ah, a fellow traveler!" kind of look. I wondered if maybe they had a sixth sense that enabled them to ferret out people who knew all the lyrics to "Box of Rain." Sixth sense or no, despite my affinity for hippies and Oregon, I refuse to budge from my "Tom's of Maine deodorant doesn't work" stance. And those "deodorant crystals"—you know, the rocks you're supposed to rub on yourself to neutralize smells—are the psychic hotline of personal care products. You might as well just pray that your stank won't envelope you in a Pigpen cloud.