Hello. I’m Renard, your guest host for this week. Lauren and Dennis are off in a hot tub or something so I’ve stepped in for a guest spot. A sort of a John Oliver moment and I only know this because you Americans like your talk shows. I’m French and much prefer something literary…but anyway. I seem to have found my way to this keyboard so I’m going to tell you my story before she comes back and removes my plush paws, then sits me back up on a shelf or something. So. Where was I? Right. About five weeks ago I made a slight mistake in timing and got in the truck with Dennis for a ride up to Bellingham, Washington. I overheard them discussing a road trip down the coast and I don’t trust either of these loompah human things to remember to bring me along, so I took matters into my own rounded, stuffed hands. Here was the problem. Time. Five weeks. That turns out to be made up of a lot of minutes and things. (I mean, seriously, I’m a plush toy. The fact I’m even doing this is crazy.) So…there I was just. waiting. sitting. staring. Maybe some thinking.

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Until we could get on the road again. Finally Lauren turned up. Sheesh (or as we say in French: chich). Let’s go already. Of course, on our first stop in Seattle, I was smitten…

But she turned out to be too one dimensional. We had a wonderful two nights, then it was time to hit the road again. (As I understand it, there is a man who sings a song about this. It’s a bit whiny for my taste, much prefer Edith Piaf.) Off we went down to a town in Oregon called Florence. Lots of nice scenery. I have no opposable thumbs so can’t show you any photos. But use your imagination. Very green. Lots of trees. Farms. Cows. Sheep. Fields. Streams.

We made it here last night, and now I sit for a day while they wander around, drink coffee, pet dogs (aaahhhh), get massages and climb into large tubs of hot swirling water. Then there’s some room that steams up. They both seem to enjoy this kind of thing. Seems to make them both a lot slower, and they weren’t exactly rocket scientists to begin with. Not complaining though. I’m just hanging out in this lovely room. No idea where we’re going next, but wish me luck. If I can figure out how to post this thing before Lauren gets back, that will be huge. Thank you for reading and if you like, please to let her know. Maybe it’s time for some new blood–or rather stuffing.

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