From Connie: an image of the Portland West Hills. In the many Portland mornings burned into my memory, these hills greeted me, hugged by a fog, descending slowly, threatening to consume. Brisk and chilly mornings. Me: in my coat, dress/suit, tights, running to the office, the pattering of my heels resounding on the clean, even pavement. A hot cup of coffee warming my hands. The afternoon Mami and I cleaned up my office, I took one last look at those hills, drinking in that image one more time.
I found this picture of me and Mami from my last weekend in Portland, a weekend of brunch with the girls, coffee with the lovely Becki, and hours spent examining the Portland cityscape from various vantage points . Why does that weekend feel so long ago?
You ladies are on my mind on this Sunday afternoon, in this cramped coffee shop in Phnom Penh, where I am praying for a modicum of concentration.