We left the small town in Oregon where we stayed overnight very early on the 17th. It was drizzling, but after a few hours it cleared up and became a beautiful autumn day as we drove along the Columbia River Gorge.
I drove the truck in the morning, but later we split up so that my husband’s brother could be sure to make his flight out of Portland. He had cut it so close that we didn’t even have time to go see our place first.
My husband and I met up in the small city about 10 miles from our new home and drove to the house together. But as soon as we arrived, I advised him to go to a clinic, as his hand was looking bad. We had just enough time to greet my sister, who drove up just as we were leaving.
Well, our bad luck held, because the first thing we did upon arriving at our new home was get sent to the emergency room. With the tempting offer of a dinner of salmon stew waiting, instead we got to sit for several hours waiting to be called.
Finally, my husband was admitted to the hospital so that he could be treated with intravenous antibiotics. I got to drive to my niece’s house in the pouring rain.