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Hi there! Happy Saint Patrick’s Day! Happy Birthday to my Great Aunt Mary, the kindest woman I ever knew, who would have been 106 today! I am not wearing green, but I do have a bowl of cauliflower soup with roasted jalapeno happily swimming in my belly. Does that count?

And now, a step back in time, to Saturday. We had brunch at Olympic Provisions to fortify us for the walk ahead. This is not your typical brunch, not in the least. Everything impressed. Service with a smile, a wink, a nod, and a laugh. Then there were the consumables. The Edith Piaf cocktail was as tasty as it was beautiful. The badass plate of food is the Braised Short Rib, with laser potatoes and lardons, because that hunk of meat was clearly not enough. The hubster, beyond pleased with his choice, devoured it in no time. I had the biscuits and gravy, and they were the best I’ve ever tasted. Boom! To top it off, the chefs were very kindly to us, engaging in conversation while they worked their tails off to make every last belly full and happy. They even gave us a plate of fresh house smoked trout, just because. Oh my, my…

buttercup winter hazel

blossoming quince

Like all of Laura O. Foster’s walks, we learned a little more history and saw Portland in a new light, despite having walked and driven by these buildings a thousand times. Take Jantzen, for instance, did you know they were originally manufacturers of sweaters and hosiery? When a local rowing team asked them if they could make a lightweight suit for winter, the world of bathing suits was forever changed.


This bulldog, originally from a Mack Truck, is now happily ensconced on a Volkswagen. Or maybe not. I don’t suppose anyone can ever truly know the feelings of a hood ornament.

We stopped for a sweet at Alma. The icons are chocolate!

Lone Fir Pioneer Cemetery – Funny how the clouds came just in time for the photo…

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A fond memory of snow: the bright stillness of night, everything aglow.

The best and gentlest man I know with my favorite, and almost nineteen year-old, girl.

At Bob’s Red Mill, the white is a sheet of ice. I bought a cardamom bun, scads of dry beans, and a 25-pound bag of whole wheat flour. I can’t believe how quickly we go through it.

A “Welcome to Kentucky” flight of whiskey and bourbon at Tapalaya. Not a bad start to a lazy afternoon. I love sitting my nose close to the rim and inhaling just as much as I love the flavor on my tongue. Maybe because it reminds me of pipe tobacco and my Grandpa, the tins he stowed around the house, with me lifting the lids just enough to concentrate the scent in my eager nostrils.

The flight was followed by the quite literal blue plate special of crayfish etouffee, black-eyed pea salad, and garlic bread; and an oyster po-boy, sweet potato fries, and red beans. All was fabulous, as always, the biggest surprise being the salad. Unaccustomed to cold black-eyed peas, we were leery, but the flavor won us over right-quick.

My weekly decaf latte. It does a body good.

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Happy Sunday! Yesterday was a lovely day, straight from my Colorado childhood, with fat flakes dancing and swirling and uttering hush. We walked to the park with our cardboard “sleds” to join the multitudes. It was a mellow ride compared to the toboggans and saucers, but no less fun. I laughed, loud and hearty, my heart full of joy at such a simple pleasure. We came home, my legs wobbly from so much running up the hill,  and warmed with hot chocolate and a deliciously hot bath. We cuddled, humans and felines alike, and snacked with movies on the sofa. And this morning, I awoke to the magical Dr. Zhivago coating of ice. Lovely and crackly, with birds, squirrels, and this human skittering to feed and capture the splendor of it all.

Look at these sweet kids! Twenty-three years since our first date. Oh, how the time flies…

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Good Friday afternoon to you, dear reader! How are you? I’ve got a belly full of dried cherries and am thusly content. Have I ever told you that cherries are my favorite fruit? Well, here we are again if I have. Yup,yup.

This was yesterday, happily eating a late lunch at The Sudra, just me and the kind and lovely-eyed guy behind the counter, which is how I like it. The sun was bright, the music was right, and the food topped it all (the small Chickpea Cutlet plate, vegan AND delicious). I could have stayed all afternoon, but I had things to do, itches to scratch.

First of which was calling my dad to wish him happy birthday! We rambled and ambled over a myriad of topics (books. history. movies. space travel), and oddly enough, spoke 1:16! On 1.16! Insert weeeird sound effect here.

I then grabbed my latest book, Philip K. Dick’s collected stories, The King of the Elves, intending to spend time before I picked the hubster up for date night. I parked and locked the car, but only made it ten feet before a little voice said, “Take pictures instead.” So I started for the West Hills to chase the light. I made it twenty blocks and was enveloped by a swift moving fog. There went that idea!

And then, I thought, the Pittock Mansion!

I arrived in time for sunset and a cinematic sweeping of fog.

The city below


and completely



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Hello, and happy Monday to you!

I’m gonna make this lickety-split quick because I need to exercise, specifically push-ups with Shiva Rea for my challenge.

If you are a local and like the arts, more specifically, modern dance, please do yourself a ginormous favor and buy tickets to POV Dance 3×3! I went last weekend and was dazzled, truly. It was unlike anything I have ever seen, beautiful and evocative, like a dream:

You converge with other people, small groups of them. It’s a modern space in an old building, exposed brick and beams. There is a film playing, of dancers using the very walls that surround you. Suddenly you realize the dancers are there, behind you, next to you, so close you can hear the slap of feet and sigh of exertion and movement. You share a moment, eye to eye. They use their bodies to climb walls and banisters. They tangle, fly, slither. It is glorious, exquisite. They beckon you to follow, down dimly lit hallways, up stairs, around corners. More dancers appear. They change partners, seamlessly, beautifully. The air is charged with wonder, music, and their ceaseless dance. It’s is a mystery and a delight.

Here’s a little preview, too.

I liked it so much that I am going back with the hubster. Maybe we will see you there!


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