Colin, our younger boys and I visited Mt. Hood last week. It's the first time I'd been back since I was a little girl, living on the mountain in our family gypsy wagon. What started as a plan to live there for a few weeks, as a part of a commune, turned into a long winter when the gypsy wagon became snowed in.
We played with old toy trucks and spent lots of time together - my brother, sister, and I. And they doted on me because I was the baby. We ate raw cloves of garlic, because our mom believed it made us stronger and resistant to sickness. And we liked it. And one time, my sister bit the head off a snake, probably because she was a garlic eating super girl. And sometime along the way, we began calling her Poomba Buckwheat - just because it sounded so cool.
It was good to go back to the woods.
