Spent the weekend in Portland, Oregon, at Orycon, a very nice regional convention. Worked hard (two panels on Friday; a reading, three panels, and an hour and a half stint on "Who's Line is it Anyway" on Saturday; and two more panels on Sunday) and had a good time. It was raining in San Francisco when I left (waaaaaay early) on Friday morning; and there was sun in Portland when I got there. That, of course, changed within a couple of hours: rain and gray and cold set in shortly thereafter. Sunday morning there was sun; the hotel is downtown, right on the river, and the trees are turning; there were two big trees right under my window (I think they were maples, but couldn't get close enough to check the leaves) one of them still green, the other a lovely mix of green, yellow, and brilliant red. By the time I finished my last panel and started off toward the MAX light rail station to get out to the airport it was clouding over, but I was feeling pretty pleased at being able to get around a town I don't know on public transportation. Of course, light rail service was interrupted because of repairs to a bridge ("They figure it's easier to put you on a shuttle bus for a day while they fix those little cracks in the bridge than it would be to fish a whole MAX out of the river" the bus driver informed us via PA) so I got to have an adventure. And by the time I got back on the MAX to get to the airport, it had started to rain. I'm sensing a theme here.
When I got back to San Francisco, YG had a fever of 101 and SG was feeling sick too. This morning SG has gone to school, but YG, still feverish, is in bed still. I know this is not all part of a plot to make me feel guilty about going away. It just feels that way.