It would be so much easier, so much more comfortable, to set aside my goal of a published book and simply write blog posts and magazine articles. From the couch.
Honestly, I like our couch. It’s super comfortable. The view out the large picture windows is green and woodsy. There’s no stress or anxiety on this couch.
When we added on to our home, I had originally hoped for a covered front porch that would say, “Welcome … stay a while.” The contractor pointed out our low-hanging eaves and that our entry was already dark. “A covered porch would make it even darker,” he said.
So he and his crew got creative, and the result is an entry with pergola and pavers that give the impression of a front porch while still letting in the light.
The weather report called for intermittent rain over Memorial Day weekend. Of course. It’s Oregon.
But rain has never deterred this Johnson bunch. They’ve been camping together for the past fifty-some years (minus COVID 2020).
About a month before I met Dan, I came across a quote from Susan Statham:
Your life is a story. Write well. Edit often.
This quote gave me pause. How does the editing process work?
I smiled to myself as Dan went about the business of making his morning coffee. We were camped at La Pine State Park in our new (pre-owned) adventure van and had just awakened from a good night’s sleep.
This past weekend, I attended a men’s retreat in the Ochoco Mountains. Well, I didn’t actually attend the event. I helped with meal prep, serving, and clean-up.
This past weekend, I strapped on a helmet and—putting my life in Dan’s hands—hopped on the back of his motorcycle.
He didn’t share his flight plan, but I knew our destination: a tiny country store east of town. So why was he heading in the wrong direction?
At the time of this writing, we’re nearly a month into spring. Dan put away the snowblower, we positioned the Adirondack chairs around the fire pit, and I arranged matching cushions. It was 78 degrees. We were expecting guests. And it was spring.
But at least three mornings this past week, we woke up to fresh snow.
We filled our hydration packs with water, made sandwiches on sourdough bread, tossed in tangerines and trail mix, and grabbed layers of outer wear. It had been too long since we’d hiked in the wilderness.
This photo was taken at our wedding. Seven of our kids and grands come from a different location on the planet. Dan’s daughter was adopted from Korea. She married a man whose parents immigrated from Thailand. Dan’s son married a first-generation Persian woman. My son chose a Hispanic bride. And my daughter and her husband adopted three boys from Uganda.
We are an American family.
Copyright © 2026 Marlys Johnson
