It started with some vacation time that was going to be lost if we did not decide on whether or not to use it. I suggested many a place; Grand Canyon (still on my list!) a place we had not been to, a road trip somewhere with the girls. He thought for only a minute and said, let's go home. Yes, we do live in Utah...But when he said it and the way he said it, I knew what he meant.
Home. Molalla, Oregon. Popluation 7560 (or so).
Molalla. The place where people let you go first at the 4 way stop with the blinking red light in the middle of town, even though it may not be your turn.
Molalla. Where there is no way to hide that you are "not from around here" because every person knows every other person and when someone visits, news travels fast.
Molalla. The place that is just enough off the beaten path that it MAKES you slow down, relax, and take a breath.
Molalla. Where the only thing that outnumbers the amount of bars in such a small town is the number of churches (of all different faiths).
Molalla. The place where the girls know Grandpa, the "sisters" and the cousins live.
Molalla. The place where the only way I learned to spell it was in song as a first grader. Come on now, sing it with me, y'all who know.
(M-o-l-a-ll-a is where were from, we want to stay, we will never loose the pride we share at Mo-lall-a Primary School!!)
Molalla. Where the word "Howdy" does not cause me to giggle, but smile. Cause up there, that is how we say hello...to everyone. Whether you know them or not.
Molalla. The place I hope my girls will see not only as where Mama grew up, but as thier other home as well.
To put how much fun we had in one post would not do our trip justice. Ill post event by event. Stay tuned. It will be swell.
