News Trend My Tillamook Tweet|Actual

The other day, a new red notification popped up on the little paper airplane icon that is my Instagram direct message feed.

Sadly, though the notification was new, the message was almost two weeks old, but this was the first I had seen of it. Instagram, sometimes you are a little bit drunk.

But when I stopped pounding my fists and gnashing my teeth in frustration over the delay, and got over myself long enough to read the message, I found a crazy delightful surprise:

* * * * *

Tillamook, for you poor souls who live far beyond the Pacific Northwest, is an association of Oregon farmers who dish up about the best dairy products that this green earth has to offer. At this very moment, my fridge holds quite a treasure trove of Tillamook goods:

^ My Tillamook love affair began as soon as I moved to Seattle in 1986, and first discovered these beautiful products with the kooky name in my new grocery store's dairy case. For pretty much every day of the thirty-three years since then, I've kept a baby loaf of medium cheddar in my fridge. Other Tillamook flavors make their appearances as we crave them - mozzarella, Monterrey jack, Swiss. Lately a loaf of pepper jack has been keeping my cheddar company.

More than any other food, Tillamook medium cheddar cheese has been a constant in our family meals. My four daughters each began eating Tillamook as tiny babies, daintily picking carefully cut tidbits of cheese off their high chair tray and popping them into their mouths with utter delight. I've flipped endless grilled cheese sandwiches, grated countless heaps of the stuff for tacos, enchiladas, and nachos, blended uncountable handfuls of cheese into roux sauces for macaroni and cheese casseroles. Cheddar cheese makes everything taste better, and Tillamook takes cheese from good to great.

^ Salted for everyday use, unsalted for baking, surely this butter comes from Oregon's finest dairy cows munching on green grasses in the Willamette Valley.I'm not sure that I can taste the difference between Tillamook and other butter brands, but my loyalty is unquestioned.

^ I am a fiend for sour cream. Delicious as a topping on all dishes Mexican as well as fresh berries, this fresh clean taste improves many a homemade salad dressing and dipping sauce.

^ Ice cream is my favorite dessert and Tillamook is hands down my favorite all-purpose ice cream. Old-fashioned vanilla and vanilla bean are our go-tos for pairing with fruity pies and crisps; mint chocolate chip is the tried-and-true choice around here to accompany my daughters' favorite chocolate birthday cake. And for just plain weekend treat-yourself time, udderly chocolate is unbeatable.

* * * * *

So due to my long, luscious love affair with Tillamook, to receive a DM from the powers that be at my favorite creamery was beyond exciting for me.

But what's this about using some Tweet of mine in a video?

I racked my brain to dredge up some context.

Ohhhh, right

Back in 2014, as I was counting down the final days till I hopped a plane to Danang, Vietnam, to visit my globe-trotting third-born who lived there, she asked me for a special favor. Seems that she was planning to throw a taco party for some uninitiated Asian friends and wanted to tantalize their taste buds with the ultimate cheddar cheese.

She wondered if I might be willing to make room in my suitcase for a proper two-pound loaf of Tillamook's best.

Which I did. Without hesitation.

As I recall, this complicated my dealings with Customs. I declared my baby loaf of cheesy goodness, filled out an extra form or two, and talked my way past the investigating agent. The Tillamook cheddar was officially welcomed into Vietnam.

And then, on a steamy evening in a Danang high-rise, I grated that puppy down into a heap of delicious golden shreds and earned the immediate affection of a dozen hungry Vietnamese. Apparently, I also posted this Tweet:

A few weeks ago, some Tillamook marketing minion must have sifted through layers of dusty old Tweets and surfaced this five-year-old gem. Don't ask me to explain why said minion then reached out to me on Instagram rather than Twitter, because I don't get that at all. But the upshot of his or her efforts is that tonight I signed a sah release, allowing dear Tillamook to use my Tweet.

In exchange for the value of my wordsmithing, Tillamook has promised to send me a thank you gift.

All in all, I could not be more delighted about this surprising turn of events.

And I can't wait to see what they send me.

* * * * *

What started as an off-the-cuff tweet back in 2014 led to an interesting offer and a dairy industry fact-finding mission. Here's the full story:

My Tillamook Tweet

Checking Up On Tillamook

Thanks, Tillamook

News Trend Mother's Day Blues|Actual

"When you are a mother, you are never really alone in your thoughts. A mother always has to think twice, once for herself and once for her child." -Sophia Loren

"For when a child is born, the mother is also born again." -Gilbert Parker

These are flowers that I bought for myself, because I knew I would love some tulips. I was right.

Mother's Day makes me feel lonely.

Ever since my first official celebration in 1988, I've spent the day with a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach, a bittersweet ache for something I can't quite explain or describe or put my finger on.

In the early years, I supposed that the disconnect was due to the fact of my little ones' age. They were so young, too young to understand the meaning of the day. Adorable little kittens, they purred and pounced and played at my feet every day and why should one Sunday in May be any different than all the rest?

My fourth-born knew I would love this bouquet of allium and eucalyptus. She was right.

As time went on, my relationship with my own mom puzzled me. Hard feelings that I didn't understand came between us, and I guessed that wedge was the source of my loneliness on Mother's Day.

Then she got sick. Lewy Body Dementia stole our peace and certainly the thirteen years that my mom fought a losing battle against that terrible disease would explain my Mother's Day melancholy.

But those years are over now.

This is the third Mother's Day since my own mother went to heaven. I'm glad her battle is won and more than ever, I am at peace with her passing.

My daughters are full-grown adults now, and surely they grasp the significance of the celebration.

Nonetheless, again on this Mother's Day, I feel lonely.

And my first-born baked me a cake, a one-layer affair with a moderate dollop of frosting.

She thought I would like it. And she too was right.

And I wonder today, as I realize that all my old theories have flown out the window, that maybe the reason I feel alone on Mother's Day is because I am alone on Mother's Day.

Oh, of course, my husband and a goodly percentage of my daughters are with me.

But they are not mothers.

Not yet, anyway. Hopefully that day will come.

In all the years that I have been celebrating Mother's Day, my family and I have never once spent the day with another mom.

Not my mom. Nor my mother-in-law.

No aunties or grandmothers.

No sisters or sisters-in-law.

No friends or neighbors or traveling salesladies.

I have always been the only mother at the party.

And there is something special

something extraordinary

something priceless

something profoundly and deeply moving

about motherhood

that only another mother can understand.

And because I never once have had another mother sit across the table from me on Mother's Day, a mom whose eyes might meet mine over our cheeseburgers, a mom with whom I could share a special, silent moment of knowing what an immensely mysterious and unspeakable thing it is to be a mother,

I think it is quite understandable

that I feel lonely on Mother's Day.

* * * * *

Here are more stories about mothers and Mother's Day

Looking Up: Mother's Day Edition

What Truly Matters About Moms

Dear Mormon Mom

My Mother-In-Law

* * * * *

And to read more stories about my mom's journey through Lewy Body Dementia, go here.

News Trend Sometimes It's Okay To Hold On|Actual

"Hey, Mom. Next time you go to IKEA, can you grab me some of those white plant pots? You know, the ones with the three different patterns of lines in them. I'd like one of each."

Uh oh.

"Well, I'd be glad to do that. But they don't make that style any more."

Nooooo.

"But wait. I'm pretty sure I have some of them in my stash of extra planting pots. I'll check for you."

Score.

* * * * *

Today, I found these three now-obsolete IKEA planting pots, one of each design, exactly as my first born requested. Granted, they needed a good scrubbing up, but nothing that a few minutes of elbow grease couldn't fix. Now these gleaming rascals are ready to take on new life and add some sparkle to my daughter's home.

I'm glad I found them.

But honestly, if I had ruthlessly decluttered my planting supplies, I would have tossed them long ago. It's been at least a few years since I put them to active duty, and by most any self-respecting minimalist's standards, that's far too long to have stuff sitting around collecting dust.

I'm still sticking to my original plan to declutter hard in my garage. But I must admit that maybe there's something to be said for hanging on to things now and then, just in case a daughter comes calling.

* * * * *

Read more about my journey to mindful consumption:

Reading Inspiration

My Shopping Ban Rules

My Decluttering Rules

The First Test

Sometimes It's Okay To Hold On

Setting Myself Free

Armed And Dangerous

A Decluttering Update: Family Photos

A Shopping Ban Update: Three Months In

Keepers

News Trend Checking Up On Tillamook|Actual

About a week ago, I shared a story about a Tweet I wrote back in 2014 that recently caught the eye of Tillamook, a company of whose dairy products I am a particular fan.

It was a Tweet about cheese.

And the Tillamook folks asked me if I would allow them to use the Tweet in a marketing piece.

Spoilers: I said yes.

In response to that story, one of my readers sent me a comment in which she cautioned me about supporting Tillamook. She told me her specific concerns about Tillamook. And she linked me to a post in a personal blog called Good Stuff NW that examined these concerns in more lebih jelasnya.

To be sure, I'm glad she commented. I'm pleased that she felt comfortable engaging me in a healthy give-and-take about my post, and I love her passion, intensity, and deep desire to do good in this world.

My husband's grandfather was a widowed dairy farmer in northeastern Ohio. In between the twice-daily milkings, George raised five children, kept the farm running, and went to church every Sunday. By all accounts, he was a gentle, quiet, thoughtful man, and he cared very much for his cows.

And even though I love cheese and ice cream and all the other deliciousness that comes from milk, I also love cows.

I love their big brown eyes.

I love their trusting dispositions.

I love the way they moo.

I would never want them to suffer.

I would never want to do business with a company that causes them to suffer.

And while I certainly would be disappointed to learn that Tillamook treats cows poorly or mismanages their business in any way, I would rather know the truth than live in ignorance.

Two of George's children chose to continue on in the dairy farm life. His middle son bought the farm across the road, and his younger daughter married a local cowman named Norman The other three, including my father-in-law, moved into town.

Tillamook, if you don't know, is a strong dairy brand named for its home base, little Tillamook County, Oregon. Since 1909, dairy farmers in this pastoral community have worked as a cooperative to proudly provide milk to Tillamook-owned processing plants where local employees whip up countless loaves of cheese and cartons of ice cream.Their tag line, "Farmer owned since forever. Doing things right since always" sums up their folksy,down-to-earth philosophy as well as their highly effective marketing strategy.

* * * * *

So I pored over the post from Good Stuff NW, and made a list of the major concerns noted there, as well as the issues my reader laid out in her comment.

Where do the Tillamook cows live?

Where are Tillamook products made?

Are the animals subjected to abusive conditions?

What is the impact of all these cows on the environment?

What is the impact of Tillamook's business practices on small farms?

What is the impact of Tillamook's business practices on the Tillamook community?

I decided to seek out answers to these questions. And the logical starting place, I deduced, was to simply ask Tillamook to respond to the concerns mentioned in the Good Stuff NW post. So I dropped them a hey howdy at their Contact Us halaman, and this is the response I received:

* * * * *

Hi Diane,

Thank you so much for you taking the time to reach out to us directly about this ? We really appreciate that!

Yes, we are aware of a blog post circulating online from 2017 that we think includes some one-sided misrepresentations. There are always two sides to a story, and we appreciate that you?Re open to hearing ours.

It is true that not all of our milk and products originate from Tillamook County, and we?Ve never hidden from that fact. We?Re growing beyond Tillamook?S borders but never beyond its values. It?S important to remember that as a co-op, we are farmer-owned and farmer-led. Always have been, always will be. Being a co-op means that the 80 farming families in Tillamook County, who are members, are not just part of our high-quality milk supply, they actually own and lead the company and benefit directly from its growth and success. In fact, they depend on it. Our profits are either reinvested in our business, contributed to our communities, or distributed to the farming families in Tillamook. Our farmer-owners insist on working with only best-in-group business partners including dairy farmers, production facilities and distribution centers. If they don?T meet our standards, they don?T work with Tillamook.

After more than 100 years and growing consumer demand for our products, we?Re making more products than ever before right where it all began, and that?S in Tillamook County. But, while there?S no limit to the ingenuity, hard work and commitment of Tillamook County?S people, there is a limit to its natural resources. It?S an environmentally sensitive area and natural resources are constrained. There are just 23,000 acres suitable for pasture, and it?S not feasible to manage more than about 30,000 milking cows in Tillamook. That?S why our farmer owners decided more than 15 years ago to partner with a large, innovative dairy farm ? Threemile Canyon Farms ? Located near our second cheesemaking facility in Boardman, Oregon.

While a large dairy farm may not look the same as a much smaller one, we can assure you that every farm we work with is held to the same strict quality and animal care standards that our farmer-owners adhere to in Tillamook County. The size of the farm does not dictate the quality of care. All of the farmers who supply milk for Tillamook products have a commitment to quality, and that means taking good care of their cows because not only is it their livelihood, but it is also the right thing to do. An independent and rigorous audit conducted recently at Threemile Canyon Farms by the nationally recognized Validus Dairy Animal Welfare Expert Committee resulted in the first-ever 100% score for a dairy operation. The score validates the daily commitment the farm makes to keep their cows healthful and comfortable.

Threemile Canyon Farms also is a leader in environmental stewardship and sustainable agriculture, and they have taken many steps over the past nearly two decades to help maintain the natural resources around them, including for example, building a zero-discharge waste management system, reducing reliance on fossil fuels by investing in renewable energy projects like wind turbines, and building a methane digester to generate electricity from waste byproducts, to name just a few.

Growing our brand through strong partnerships like this one is the way we’ve been able to sustain our farmer-owners and the farming way of life in Tillamook County for generations to come. That growth is also what provides more opportunities for our 800+ employees and hundreds more that work on our owners’ and partners’ farms, who all live and work in Oregon. And, that growth also enables us to invest millions of dollars back into our communities to help them grow and thrive. So, yes, we are growing, but we are doing so in a responsible way that enables us to bring more high-quality dairy products to more people, in the Northwest and beyond. Our farmer-owners would have it no other way.

It?S very important to us that we listen to the people that buy Tillamook products and support our farmer-owners, so if you have any additional comments, please let me know. Again, thank you for being so kind as to reach out and hear out our perspective.

Casey ? The Tillamook Team

On my wedding day, Uncle Norman left his cows in order to make the overnight trip from eastern Ohio to Chicago. I knew that was a huge deal, and seeing him at the church, complete with his enamel cow pin in his suit jacket lapel, as I walked down the aisle was one of the most touching moments of the day.

I read and cross-referenced this letter to theTillamook FAQ and other information on the Tillamook pages, to ensure that Tillamook was telling me the same story that they share on their website. Check

I visited the home page ofValidus Services to determine if they were indeed auditors of animal welfare. Check.

I spent more than an hour exploring theThreemile Canyon Farms website, looking for evidence of the claims that they are concerned aobut environmental stewardship and sustainable agriculture. Check.

I found several recent articles validating the reputation of Threemile Canyon Farms:Dairy Strives To Keep Improving from 2018. andState's Largest Dairy Runs On Closed Loop from 2016. Check, check.

And I explored several posts (likethis one and this one) on theThreemile Canyon Farms blog that stress how important it is for consumers who have concerns about where their food comes from to fact check with actual agricultural professionals. And check.

Grandpa George and Uncle Norman are both long gone, bless their souls. My husband's family is, at least for now, out of the dairy farming business. But I hope, from their vantage point in heaven, these men are looking down at the technologically savvy and highly canggih dairy operation at Threemile Canyon Farms. I do believe they are smiling.

And now, I am satisfied.

I understand why the Tillamook cows live where they do, and why Tillamook products are made where they are made. There's nothing misleading or shady about Tillamook's business practices; they make good sense.

I believe that Tillamook cows live happy, healthy lives.

I admire the many ways in which Tillamook farms, especially Threemile Canyon Farms, is working to protect the environment from the impact of oh, so many cows.

I trust that Tillamook's farmer-owners pour resources back into their communities and work to be responsible stewards and business owners.

And I get that some people still prefer not to eat dairy products. Some people feel uncomfortable with animals in our food chain. Some people choose a strictly vegan diet.

I'm totally cool with that.

As for me, I will keep on enjoying that amazing Tillamook cheddar cheese and thanking the sweet cows who make it for me.

* * * * *

These photos were taken on George's old dairy farm near Oberlin, Ohio.

* * * * *

What started as an off-the-cuff tweet back in 2014 led to an interesting offer, a dairy industry fact-finding mission, and in the end, a cheesy gift. Here's the full story:

My Tillamook Tweet

Checking Up On Tillamook

Thanks, Tillamook

News Trend Discovering Sunsets|Actual

"Mom, the sun's going down! You want to come with us to the look-out and watch?"

The next sound you'll hear is a crash as I drop whatever cooking pot I'm scrubbing or wash pan I'm toting around the camp, quickly wipe my forever-damp hands, and rush off to see.

^ Scooters are my daughters' favorite mode of transport at camp. Every evening after dinner,

they zoom around and bring me back stories of the interesting sights they have seen.

Ranger always prefers to walk.

The campground at Kalaloch perches on a windy bluff high atop the wide sandy beach. Though most of the camp is sheltered by low, gnarled, and windswept evergreens, there are three open areas where one can hike down a steep path to the beach or linger up top to take in the vista.

And the viewpoint at the southern end of the campground, the one that we think of as ours, is a lovely place to catch the setting sun.

It's also a perfect place for star-gazing but that's a story for another day.

Of all the dozens of Kalaloch sunset photos I've taken in my life, this one is my favorite.

The camera technology leaves plenty to be desires, but the composition and color are spot on.

If the breezes are not too cold, and we don't mind getting our feet sandy one more time, we might slip off our shoes and tiptoe down the path to walk at the edge of the water and watch the sunset from ground level.

Up or down, either vantage point is lovely.

True confessions. I am a borderline pyromaniac and I love to build irrationally large fires.

This baby is just getting started.

Some nights, we plan ahead for a beach fire. Temperatures drop quickly as the sun sinks low, and even our tempered Pacific Northwest blood runs cold on the best of summer days. The sensation of the over-heated warmth from a roaring fire against my slightly sunburned and significantly sandblasted skin takes me to my happy place real fast.

Lazy shadows play against the sand, but the beach logs capture and reflect the sun's setting rays.

As the sunset's colors fade against the pale white beach logs, we kick sand into our waning fire and break down the burning embers, signalling the end of another lovely day at the beach.

"Please tell me it's bedtime."

And good ol' Ranger knows that it's time to head up to camp where our cozy tent and warm sleeping bags await us all.

* * * * *

My family and I go to Kalaloch a lot. Here are stories from our trips over the years:

2019

Wide Open Spaces

Whale Bones

Ways To Play

The World Of Packet Dinners

Windows

2018

Walking On Rialto Beach

2017

Gracie Goes To Kalaloch

2015

The Last Day Of My Summer Vacation

2014

With Joy And Wild Abandon

With Hope And Desperate Longing

With Peace And New Beginnings

2012

It's All About The Food

It's All About Playing On The Beach

It's All About The Sunsets

It's All About The Artistic Inspiration

It's All About The Memories

2011

Discovering Tide Pools

Discovering Sunsets

2010

Balanced Rocks

sometime before 2010

Golden Pup

News Trend Making Do|Actual

"Mothers are the necessity of invention." -Bill Watterson

"Nothing would be more tiresome than eating and drinking if God had not made them a pleasure as well as a necessity." -Voltaire

This week I discovered, as I often do, that my month was bigger than my paycheck.

And while I'm not exactly destitute, I am stubbornly committed to honoring my grocery budget and living within my temporarily limited means. Which means that for the next few days - until the next paycheck hits - I'll need to get creative in order to feed my family the meals to which they have become accustomed. In other words, I'll be making do.

* * * * *

For my husband, the masalah is granola.

Every weekday morning, after hitting his snooze exactly once, my husband rolls out of bed at 4:30 a.M. I know that because many days, I'm still drifting off to sleep as his alarm is calling him to action.

By five a.M., he's downstairs feeding Gracie her first meal of the day, which after eating she promptly sprints back upstairs and claims his pillow as her own, and fixing a little something for himself: a cup of Chobani Greek yogurt with a handful of granola stirred in.

Blueberry,

raspberry,

blackberry,

and cherry

are his yogurt flavors of choice, and every weekend he picks up five fresh cups to get him through the work week ahead. Since he shopped last weekend before the money ran out, his yogurt supply will coast through to the beginning of the next pay period, no dilema.

His granola situation is a different matter. We're fresh out of the Quaker product that he normally uses. So tonight I got my Betty Crocker on, and baked him up a batch of simple, quick, and easy homemade granola.

Forget Betty Crocker, I actually channeled Euell Gibbons, that wacky natural food activist from the 1960s who asked us if we ever ate a pine tree while advertising Post Grape Nuts. Though this recipe called for neither parts of a pine tree, cattail, or any of the other random plants Euell pitched to us, my homemade granola is hearty, healthy and best of all, darn tasty.

I may just start a little granola habit of my own.

* * * * *

Meanwhile, my fourth-born is facing a bit of a struggle with her work lunches. Inventive as she is, packing such delicacies as baked beans, hummus and carrots, apples and peanut butter, or leftover enchiladas, lately she has been craving sandwiches made on French bread.

Of which we are fresh out.

So why not, I decided, bake her some French bread from scratch?

Digging into my cookbook stash, I found what I was looking for:James Beard's Book on Breads, purchased by me circa 1984 and used fairly consistently ever since. Running a quick finger through the index, I found a straightforward recipe for French-style bread - ever the perfectionist, Mr. Beard notes that this is not technically proper French bread but a reasonable facsimile which is good enough for me. Setting the dough to rise before dinner and popping the shaped loaves into the oven afterwards, I soon had two pretty loaves of crusty bread cooling on my kitchen counter.

And within minutes, my family discovered this bounty. A small bread-sampling party ensued, complete with warm butter and lingonberry jam.

I'm happy to report that six sandwich-sized segments of bread were protected from the lip-smacking horde, safely wrapped and eventually stashed in the freezer, where only my fourth-born will remember to look when she's ready to pack her next work lunch.

I've already promised to bake more when this batch runs out.

* * * * *

With this quick one-two punch of normally-I-buy-it-but-today-I'm-gonna-make-it success under my belt, I'm wondering what else I might take on as a pantry-to-table DIY.

Pita bread?

Almond crackers?

Baba ganoush?

I do have that leftover eggplant kicking around my vegetable drawer.

We shall just have to wait and see what I might cook up next in the name of making do.

News Trend Gracie's Unexpected Swim|Actual

Gracie pranced down the dock near the boat ramp, tail waving happily, nose to the breezes of a cool spring day.

I watched her every move.

A ways out from shore, she turned to the edge of the dock, and sidled up into an open space between the low guard rails.

Tentatively, she reached her front left paw down toward the water, as if to test the distance.

And then, before my eyes, she stepped off the dock and tumbled into the deep water below.

She did not catch the actual fall, but my fourth-born's quick camera trigger finger captured much of the action during Gracie's rescue.

I stood a few feet away, horrified by the considerable splash..

Peering over the edge of the dock, I watched her sink deeper and deeper from the force of her fall.

Body twisting, limbs flailing.

Long red hair waving under the water.

Bubbles rising to the surface.

Though she happily wades in lakes, rivers, and ocean waves, I don't know that Gracie has ever swum in water over her head. The experience seemed to take her by surprise.

Within what was probably three seconds but felt like forever, Gracie's head bobbed back up into the air. Her face was streaming with water and filled with shock and surprise, her eyes immediately locked on to mine.

Help, she silently pleaded.

Her first instinct was to try to climb back up on the dock.

And I had the exact same idea. But my brain quickly pointed out to me that hauling one hundred pounds of wet, wriggling dog a good half meter up to the level of the dock was a bad idea whose most likely outcome would be me in the cold water next to her.

Thankfully, the wise first responder who lives inside me and comes out exactly when I need her most had a better idea.

"Come on, Gracie! Come this way," I heard myself saying.

As I called to my splashing, thrashing pup, our eyes still locked as we sought to solve this masalah together, I applied gentle pressure to her long leash and slowly backed down the dock toward land.

^ Once she got the hang of deep water swimming,

my girl looked like a lush, red seal, swimming like a total pro.

She got the idea. Her panic slowly cooled as she discovered the rhythm of swimming. Still watching each other intently, Gracie put together a competent doggie paddle as I guided her down the length of the dock toward shore.

Around the halfway point, Gracie began to tire. I noticed her pace slackening and her head drooping just a bit lower in the water.

"Come on, baby! You can do it! You're almost there!"

The moment when her feet touched ground.

The encouragement worked. Just a few seconds later, Gracie's feet touched what must have been the immensely satisfying solidity of the concrete boat ramp, and her relief was palpable.

"Well, that was actually kinda fun!"

Finally, Gracie's eyes let go of mine as she marched happily up the boat ramp onto terra firma, shook hard twice, and then circled back round to greet me. Her tail wagged water drops all over me and I did not mind one bit.

* * * * *

Gracie's unexpected swim was an exciting opening act for our hike around Langus Riverfront Park in Everett. Though the rest of our adventure was full of interesting surprises, my crazy dog's fall into the brink was definitely the high point of the day.