Miss me yet?

As anyone who has come within a five foot radius of me in the last month knows, I have left Saline for three weeks to be with my sister and her new twin baby girls in Portland, OR.
The nine-day old girls are Dana Starr (Dana, after our brother, Dan, who died of AIDS, and Starr, after our forefathers from New England) and Veronica Sue (Nica for short, and yes, I am bursting busting puffed with pride). My amazing little sister is their poster-perfect mother. Double nursing, recording their every meal and move (or, should I say, movement) and tucking in for a nap herself whenever the babies are quiet.
Me? Deliriously happy: holding, burping, fetching, cleaning, cooking, playing gate keeper and relishing every midnight conversation with my darling sister while feeding and diapering. Sweet solice.
I do miss my family, though.
I don't miss Saline (sorry).
I do miss writing.
I don't miss my cats (sorry).

Portland is a welcoming haven of velvety coffee shops, aromatic sidewalk cafes, unpretentious microbrewers and groovy yoga studios. I swear there is one of each at every corner. This place has Got It. I have had lots of personal firsts here already.

1. Peeled an orange while standing over a compost bin, depositing the skin directly into the buggy pile.
2. Running through Forest Park - my longest jog yet, getting thoroughly lost in the winding woodsy trails, ending up at the Portland Audobon Society. As one does!
3. Sipped a papaya-scented margherita at a bench outside a place called, Por Que' No? Indeed, why not!
4. Held two 12-hour old babies at once.

More soon. Must go pick up a stirring baby. Ok, nobody is stirring, but it's been two hours since I've held a girl.