Pigs in a Blanket

Harry Potter 8: The Tale of Dobby

After a hiatus of months, I have finally decided it is time to climb back on the wagon, ford the oxen, pack some extra axles, and take some vaccines for cholera...yes, that is correct, the blog is back on the trail, the Oregon Trail.

So sadly Alaska ended, but I'm happily back to the routine of Oregon (which is similar to Alaska but less bears). However, I luckily have some friends who say routine? Never. Who are those chumps? Kristin Allen and Nikita Patel. These two lovely drunks, ahhh ladies, hail from my Marquette days. Forever coined as my old roomies, they decided to make the trek out the Pacific Northwest to play with me for a weekend. And what a whirlwind of a weekend it was. 

So the amazing aforementioned girls flew into Seattle, where I met them on Friday. The plan was this...Friday - Seattle; Saturday - Eugene; Sunday - Portland. Sounds like a lot? Oh it was. Here is a map...

The red line signifies the journey completed in 55 hours. (Rupert is a trooper.)

Anyway, enough of the background story...now is where the story begins. While in Seattle for a hot 24 hours, the three of us became four. Yes, we befriended Dobby (and he became our friend for only 20 bucks - score!).  Therefore, here begins the adventures of Dobby, Hermione, Ginny, and Parvati Patil (you can guess who the characters are).

Just after adoption...he was still learning to walk and stand on his own.

Upon standing, he realized his height might be an issue...

Yeah...big issue.
But honestly would height bother Dobby? I mean he can do magic! We all tried to tell Dobby that he was destined for great things! But maybe got a little overzealous...he was a little upset during certain points in Book 7.

We tried to comfort him, but it wasn't enough...he had to seek outside help. 

Well things didn't change so it was time to make sure Dobby had the most amazing time! 

So we took him to the streets...

He made friends...

Placed some gum on the gum wall...he was scared he would get stuck to it but we assured him (as did the Harry Potter books and fortune teller) that that isn't the way he goes. 

Then he saw the waves...

And wanted to ride the ferry. Dobby the seaman? Absolutely. Here it should be noted that while waiting in line to board the ferry, a group of 14 year olds started squealing and yelling "Dobby! Dobby! Dobby!" We informed these eager tweens that they could take a picture with him for 5 bucks a pop. No takers, but still his ego was boosted. 

While rocking the ferry (pun intended), Dobby popped multiple cherries.

Like playing cards!

And using the restroom!

Watching the hand washing routine...

Then, he started getting restless...party time. Dobby - the lady killer

But before the alcohol started flowing it was time for some grub...

And booze.

Sadly, Dobby didn't listen to our words of advice. Food first, then booze! So the newbie to the alcohol world went a bit overboard. 

And then things became blurry to Dobby...

So clearly he decided a dress up party was appropriate.

Things got a little out of hand...

He liked the way the boa felt on his pillow case...

Well after his long day of drinking and cross dressing, Dobby passed out for the night only to wake up in Eugene (not against his will I swear)...

with the party commencing again. Yet Dobby was pretty excited because our party of 4 became 5! Yes, I know I was surprised too that Bellatrix Lestrange joined. But hey just drop it like it's hot!  

He witnessed (and forgot so don't ask him about it, he will never admit to the events of that match) the epic and unspeakable defeat of a mighty croquet force...as Dobby said "every dog has its day." It will never, never happen again. 

He played a bit himself too!

And then put on his best party mask and decided to jump back on the party wagon!

Well all in all Dobby had a most wonderful time...He made a plethora of friends! I would like to believe his fame was not a factor of friendship and his acceptance was all due to his personality. I mean I am sure he was judged briefly for the pillow case but it really is showing off his figure. Anyway at the end of the night, I think his approval was displayed. He was just one of the guys hanging out on the couch...in the middle of the backyard. Badass? Absolutely. 

A large thank you to Nikita Patel and Kristin Notaro for coming and visiting (and going along with the shenanigans of Dobby). You made my weekend one of the best here!! Love you guys! Also a thank you to Hannah Brasch for always bringing a good time...

and a GREAT FACE. 

Bear Tracks

While in Homer, we decided we were going to go on a hike (yet again). We headed out to the Homer Homestead hike which was supposed to be around 8 miles long. Well...we got lost so we forged our own way! As we are crossing this mud creek (which I fell in), we see these.

Bear tracks! So we continued on our way, because it seemed like the smart thing to do. We hiked for perhaps another mile and realized we had been following not a human trail, but an animal trail. Fantastic. So we turned around all the while calling "Hey Bear!" and making Kathryn tell us stories. We reached another starting point in the hike and since we didn't get eaten (too bad right?), we wanted to hike around more. We found another (real) trail and turned and headed down that. We were again not far into our hike when we heard a motor. And boom!! This guy rode up on an ATV with his dog running along side him. He stopped, probably a little bit shocked to see 3 girls hiking around, and said "you guys hiking through?" We responded, "yes." Now I am sure there was a little bit of a conversation but I was totally distracted by the pistol and machete hanging out on either hip. All I was thinking was "gun, gun, gun, machete, gun." Now being from Illinois, here are our gun laws:

It is unlawful to carry or possess any firearm in any vehicle or concealed on or about the person, except on one's land or or fixed place of business.

It is unlawful to carry or possess any firearm on any public street or other public lands within the corporate limits of a city, village, or incorporated town, except when: an invitee thereon or therein, for the purpose of the display of firearms or the lawful commerce in firearms.

Yes, so I am a little naive when it comes to firearms. I am still totally shocked to see people just hanging out with them and not in a crime-related sort of way. Anyway, I come back to the conversation when Gruff McGee goes "there are bear back there." We say we figured and he asks "do you have bear spray or any other...protection?" We reply in a drawn out response, "Noooooo, we are going to head back home now." He says, "Yeah, you probably should" and drives his ATV off into the sunset with his dog following. Ok not really, he didn't 100 yards before he ran into another group of hikers. But the encounter with the real life Bear Grylls went well I thought. I felt a real connection. 

We did make it back to our car and in time to see Oregon lose to LSU! GRRRR!! We met up the Oregon kid, Max, we met at the bar the night before. 

Surprisingly or not so, there were like 20 people wearing Ducks gear! We owned the bar. I mean what are the odds that we ran into the Oregon/Homer crew? 

Upon them losing, all I was thinking about was beer and ice cream. Those bear tracks had me all sorts of riled up for...

OH and...

http://www.moosetracks.com/flavors/detail/12

Clearly not the adrenaline rush I should have felt. 

Home Sweet Homer

The wine urges me on, the bewitching wine, which sets even a wise man to singing and to laughing gently and rouses him up to dance and bring forth words which were better unspoken.
                             - Homer, The Odyssey  


For our last weekend in Alaska (which was a three day weekend), we decided to yet again pack up the Alaska Stallion and head on down to Homer, Alaska. Homer is again a fishing town and home to the Time Bandit on Deadliest Catch. Yes, I know. I stalked out the Time Bandit store in hopes of running into one of the Hillstrand brothers so that they could get me in touch with Capt. Sig Hansen.

No dice. Anyway though here is the Time Bandit store...

With a huge crab pot! I was standing in it and let me tell you monstrous! I have a new appreciation for a 1/2 full crab pot! 

Ok but before I delve too deeply into the Homer weekend, let me describe to you all the journey down. We stopped at a Fred Meyer in Soldotna, a town about an hour from Homer. I, being myself, went the alcohol section to gather up the other supplies we needed for the weekend. This is where I met Scott. I am standing in line with a case of Alaskan White and he goes "where's the party at?" I respond, "Homer Spit." Then seeing his case of Bud Light I say, "I would ask you the same question but you have a case of Bud Light." Well this apparently meant he can have a conversation with me about how he just flew into Anchorage in the morning after passing rigorous tests, etc, etc. I was not listening. When my senses picked up again, Kathryn was with me and he said "hold on let me move my chew so I can talk to you better." Yup, my attention averted again to I don't know the paint drying the wall next to me. So I pay for my beer and go "have a good weekend" and walk out. We leave the store and he is sitting in his car outside! He goes "HEY! Want to see the other Kenai Peninsula?" (Ok insert, Homer is located on the Kenai Peninsula as is Seward - see map above) I laugh. I mean that was ballsy - pun intended - so I saw something like "no, we are in a rush. We are late already." He replies, "Give me your number." In my head I keep replaying, "hell no, hell no, hell no," but I respond "give me yours." Anyway that was the end of that. But I knew this was going to be a good weekend with that pick up line. 

After that scenario, we made it to Homer. It was supposed to be terrible weather! Just miserable! Rainy, cold, windy, and what was it like for us? Basically the opposite. It was a tad bit chilly but it rocked. 

We camped on the Homer Spit. 

In our tent held down by rocks. 

With our sectional seating fire pit! 

Which people loved (correct, no one is sitting on the logs). 

With waves like this crashing shore...it was great to listen to at night. 

And we had visitors like this. Don't worry he supplied music that honed in on our Labor Day festivities (National Anthem, God Bless America, etc)...

We also had sunsets like this! 

But when the lights go down, things get crazy, especially at the Salty Dawg! We had a blast at this joint! We lit it up both Friday and Saturday night. We made friends too! Here is the infamous Salty Dawg!

Inside is straight class!

Dollar, dollar bills ya'll!

Some friends left to right! The fisherman who is biting Kathryn's arm (not funny, she was bruised), then there is Shawn (soul mate), and Shawn's uncle (DRUNK). 

So we basically owned this bar for two nights. The first night I walked in by myself ahead of the group (they were taking their sweet time). Upon entering, there was a kid wearing an U of Oregon hat! So we started talking and he was originally from Homer and still attends U of O. We chatted for a while and he tells me of the hang out for the game the next day (against LSU, still bitter). The others walked in and we decided we are going to meet him there. I mean what are the odds? His name was Max. There was also a group of French men who hardly spoken English. It was so funny. They somehow thought Shawn and I were engaged. You would never have imagined how funny it is to say "no not engaged, just met!" The French guys also enjoyed sticking their tongues to their nose like it was a feat of impressiveness (ok it was). The drunk uncle kept getting them to sing like their national anthem which none of us knew but sure did try to sing along! The next night we strolled in there again and started playing pool with a guy from Vegas and a guy from Montana. The Montana guy kept calling us "babydoll" and buying drinks. He also started showing us pool trick shots. It was great. He was up there for fishing. He wore a BIG OLE belt buckle, which is described as a "tombstone for dead peckers." The Vegas guy (also the age of Montana Cowboy, probably 60s) told us he comes up there for another relief: Marijuana. It was all unbelievably too funny. Anyway we owned the juke box. And our friend Vanessa played straight 90s. Everyone was so annoyed with our choices except for us (of course) and Shawn. Oh and Vanessa was on some sort of adrenaline high and she was busting out push ups. I was tired from watching her! Actually, I looked at her and chugged a beer as a result. So we rocked the bar until about 4am Saturday night. I am telling you, I LOVE Homer. It was like a mini Milwaukee in a bar. You never knew what you were going to see next! 

I am still curious though as to what the other Kenai Peninsula really looked like. My bets are it didn't stand a chance to Homer.