High Desert Thanksgiving.....

The forecast here for the upcoming week....'dry' and foggy.  Actually, that will translate to a quiet dripping in the early morning and a muffled sleepiness that I will have a hard time shaking off.  Maybe the effects of the fog will be lessened, however, just by reflecting on our high desert Thanksgiving.

Ten riding with El Professor's dad, Grandpa Cowboy

We headed out the day before Thanksgiving Day to El Professor's childhood home way, way out in the Oregon High Desert.  

As we traveled up into the mountains we drove out of the valley fog.  The entire weekend was a Glorious Vitamin D Fest!

Looking out and beyond the ranch where El Professor grew up.

Over the long weekend we were partakers in Thanksgiving dinners #2 and #3, one with El Professor's dad/wife, and one with his mom/husband.  Both were shared with El Professor's brother and family.  The weekend took on the form of a wonderful mini vacation with good food, good company, sunny hikes, and horseback riding. 

 

One afternoon we hiked with El Professor's brother and family in the hills overlooking the desert plateau.  We experienced the high point where the radio towers are located and where summer hang gliders flock to launch out over the plateau floor to ride the updrafts.  

I am a city girl, not big city, but city nonetheless.  Still, I love this isolated, ultra rural place.   A place where you still find a nativity scene set up on the courthouse lawn...

....and black Friday isn't exactly a bustling scene.   No one was trampled, and I would imagine the only people in the stores at 4 a.m. were a few scattered stock crews at the tiny Safeway grocery....  

....where the theatre is open three nights a week, the tickets are about the same price as the matinee prices in our city, and you can sit in the balcony if you want to.  The only stadium seats, however, are at the fairgrounds where the rodeo is held each Labor Day weekend. 

I think I'll print this photo and hang it on the fridge so that all week long, as the pea soup fog lingers, I'll remember that only a week ago we were squinting in the sun.