Articles by Colleen

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The hubster, in exchange for a dearth of holidays early in the year, gets Fridays off in August, the best of summer sipped like a fine cocktail and making September oh-so-long. We take full advantage on forays near and far. For this final treat, westward-ho to the coast we went, and I fell in love with beach grass, the muted song of fluttering waves and razor sharp points nipping at my bare ankles. Thusly, I renewed my affection for the scent of salt water, roaring sea, and rolling blankets of warm clouds. I also remembered how much I enjoyed the PBS series on Lewis and Clark and decided to revisit it soon.

Marsh’s Free Museum (you probably know why they are famous, but I won’t spoil it with a photo) and the Carousel in Long Beach.

South to Astoria

Trophies and fine burgers (try the Southwestern Portabella!) at Astoria Coffee House & Bistro

Treasures galore at one of the coolest shops ever: Astoria Vintage Hardware

Blue Scorcher Bakery Cafe

Delicious Mochas

Street 14 Coffee

More deliciousness in the form of Almond Pastry

Have a Happy Labor Day!

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Prayer

Let gratitude be the pillow upon which you kneel to say your nightly prayer. And let faith be the bridge you build to overcome evil and welcome good.

Maya Angelou

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Inversion Plus Minus

Lead Pencil Studio

a m e n

Edith Green – Wendell Wyatt Federal Building

SERA Architects

Keller Fountain

Taking it to City Hall

First Congregational Church

Rebecca at the Well

Beautifully Braided Philanthropist

work in progress…

cardboard boxes + binder clips = beauty

Cargo

“If you go carrying pictures of Chairman Mao

You ain’t gonna make it with anyone anyhow.”

seeing double

Tom Poirier

Local Choice Market

Hood to Coast

Best team name ever: The Third Leg is the Hardest

S.E.P. bitches!

watchers

the wedding bell, that is…

dinner

p.s.

I’ve been meaning to tell you about my exciting celebrity sighting. A few weeks back, while noshing on a treat from Dairy Queen, Sam Elliott drove by! We exchanged hellos! That voice…

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Smooth as Glass

 

There was a man, old and withery, yet shirtless and cocky as a surfer.

If a surfer carried a pipe and wore a crown of daisies, that is.

In between rabid pacing and punching at an invisible bag, he screamed.

Screamed about the awful torment of the sea.

How she doesn’t give a shit about anyone but herself.

Roaring and raging and destroying sand castles and

swallowing men whole,

some spat back within an inch of their lives,

countless others never seen again,

save a shoe, laced and protecting a pristine foot.

And boats! His favorite tug gone to toothpicks,

with her never stopping for one god-damned second,

just going and going and going.

Such malice!

Yet, the whole time, the sea was smooth as glass.

Colleen Sohn

p.s. Written with a nod to Bukowski

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Loud

Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one’s definition of your life, but define yourself.

Harvey Fierstein

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