March 2011

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If only there could be an invention that bottled up a memory, like scent. And it never faded, and it never got stale. And then, when one wanted it, the bottle could be uncorked, and it would be like living the moment all over again.

Daphne du Maurier

Bathing Birdie

Look at our little sweetheart.  Adorable, I think.  Oddly enough, she is a cat who doesn’t mind a bath, which is good, because, rather unfortunately, she’s in for a lot more of them.  At sixteen, her grooming isn’t what it once was, places harder to reach, or maybe maintaining a certain degree of cleanliness is no longer a concern.  This girl has her own mind, to be sure.  Combine that with some health problems I will leave to your imagination, and she’s on an every other week bathing schedule.  Lots of meows and rubs in the sink before a tight swaddle in a towel and a date with the hair dryer.  The end result is a super fluff and stuff scented like a summer cedar forest.  Lovely and ever so soft.  Good girl!



If I keep a green bough in my heart, the singing bird will come.



It’s been awfully rainy in Portland, even by our standards.  We’ve gotten more than five inches in the first three weeks, when, on average, we get about 3.75 for the whole month.  Wet!  So when the sun busted out during dinner last week and made my plate look so pretty, I had to take a picture.  It’s the small things in life…


Happy Monday, gentle readers.  It is gloriously grey here in Stumptown, and I’ve no complaints.  Well, not any serious ones, anyway.

Here’s hoping you had a lovely weekend.  Mine began in earnest on Thursday, with my friend and maker of the exquisite little beaded angel pictured above, Bebe.  We met way back in college, and hadn’t seen each other in thirteen years.  She called out of the blue, on the road in my neck of the woods, and we spent two fun filled days thrifting and eating around Portland (Broder and City State Diner – yum).  It was a hoot and a holler to be sure.

Then Saturday was blessedly sunny enough to be in the car with the windows rolled down, doing all kinds of running around to purchase an odd assortment of items: delicious strawberry rhubarb jam (from my friend’s brother’s company), bread, my favorite Italian nougat, safety vests (for bicycling), metal straps and braces (for earthquake “proofing”), and something else that evades my memory at the moment.

We also spent a lovely evening with the jam maker’s sister, Lori (but sadly not her husband, as he was quite under the weather).  She made the sweet (in scent and looks) sachet above from a thrifted quilt.  Our chosen hangout was Circa 33, a newer place on Belmont with good service, delicious fare, and super drinks.  Steamed mussels, a pulled pork sandwich, and a cocktail called La Louisiane (whiskey and absinthe make great partners) were the tops.

The highlight of the weekend (more like my life), was the company and conversation of truly wonderful friends and one sibling (Hey brother!).  I am beyond blessed in this department, with so many kind hearted people near and far, giving of their time and hearts, cheering me up, willing to listen, share, and withstand my occasional and excited but no less annoying interruptions (noticing the problem is the first step to mending it).  Thanks to you all.

Have a wonderful week!

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