Exploring

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“On the Rocks” French Mountain Cottage

Montgomery

Enosburg Falls

Newport

Welcome to The Northeast Kindgom of Vermont. Verdant rolling hills, farm after farm, sweet small towns with cow splat contests, and some of the nicest people around. They make hard cider and smoke meat and fish with corn cobbs. They have sugar shacks in dense maple forests and covered bridges spanning trout-filled rivers. Three thousand miles away, yet it feels like home.

This post is dedicated to Rupert. A very Good Man.

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Seek goodness everywhere, and when it is found, bring it out of its hiding-place and let it be free and unashamed.

William Saroyan

 

 

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Focus

Next to a Portland rail yard on Friday evening,

and under the hum of the Fremont,

I swung on a trapeze!

A mostly indoor picnic with Jamee and her adorable little one on Saturday. It was sweet and fun and so very good to catch up.

Little Big Burger after the wind shield wipers went whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. Mmm…

And Ruby Jewel after that. A Meyer Lemon Ginger cone for me and a Caramel with Salted Chocolate for him. Double mmm…

You light up my life!

Many a curiosity at Paxton Gate, but only one Jackalope.

Tin Can Siding

and Gothic Glass at the Portland Garden Cottages.

The barista at the Albina blew me a latte kiss.

My handsome bearded reader.

 Home made pizza on a Sunday afternoon.

…

Happy Birthday, Alan and Chaz!

 

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Have I ever written of my love of Wes Anderson? I don’t remember, but it really seems like I should have, for the man can do no wrong in my eyes, at least in all things cinematic and concerning the wearing of suits. I know not a whit about his personal life, which suits me fine. However, should he ever invite me to tea or whiskey to find out, you can bet your bottom dollar that I’ll be there, with bells ON. The king of corduroy has a new movie out, and I’ve been eagerly awaiting its arrival since I saw the trailer months ago, which seemed more like ages. I don’t know that I’ve ever anticipated a film’s arrival more than this. Proof, perhaps, that this gal needs to get out more often, or that, as previously stated, I am a rather big fan of his fil-ums. Moonrise Kingdom finally came to Portland two weeks ago, but we were ever so busy doing a whole weekend’s worth of yard work that made me far too tired to go, which made me a bit sad, too, but I recovered. I am an adult and can survive disappointments.

This past weekend, however, there were no projects on the books and stellar weather, so we headed out for a long and leisurely day. We started at Pacific Pie CO for lunch, our first and definitely not our last time there. It has swell decor, very good service, and the aforementioned pie. I love pie, sweet or savory. They have both, but we only partook of the savory because our bellies were full up. Tooting my own horn here, they have the best pie crust I’ve ever had next to my own, which is damn good. It is light and buttery and super tender. I had the beef and mushroom with a side of broccoli (did you get that Mom? I ordered broccoli. What is happening to me?!) and the hubster had the lamb with spicy coleslaw. Both were happily devoured in short order and promises made to come back for the cherry and the creamy chicken. In that order, I think. Why the hell not?

Oh, I am sassy today! After the pie, we crossed the river and loafed around before show time, taking in the Oregon History Museum on free day, because everything is better when it is free. It is an interesting assortment of curiosities, as you can see, though I was certainly most jazzed by the architectural models on display, this one being Pietro Belluschi’s house (he also designed the Portland Art Museum and the Commonwealth Building, in which I once worked) and the letter from Ansel Adams. Shazam, that is pretty awesome letterhead, which made the hubster and I decide that we need our own. One day, when we have more time, we’ll head up to the fourth floor and see if our house has any interesting history of its own, present occupants excluded, of course.

The fil-um did not disappoint, though I never had a doubt. It was Wes Anderson, through and through, with a nod or two to Francis Ford Coppola (his son Roman was co-writer), with wounded oddballs and misfit characters occupying idyllic homes (ah, the Bishop house!) in picturesque landscapes. They stumble through life, encountering both the vicious and the tender kind, searching for people with whom to share their pain and great capacity for love. They are impeccably dressed and coiffed, a bit wild, and make this viewer cry, though not nearly half as much as they make me laugh out loud.

We’re at the Central Library now. Isn’t it beautiful? We roamed the stacks a bit and checked out a couple of neat-o architecture books with great pictures. I don’t suppose we ever outgrow a good picture book, do we? I sure haven’t.

More downtown gorgeousness before we get back to the car. I love the clouds in this one.

When we got home, we hung out on the patio, talked about the movie, perused our books, and the hubster and cats took a nap while I watched and occupied my mind with random thoughts.

It got cool, and the mosquitoes started buzzing, so we came inside and cuddled on the sofa before doing some more reading. We’ve started The Game of Thrones, taking turns reading aloud to each other, which is fun, and we are both enjoying, for the most part. I am definitely not the primary audience for this series, as I am neither a fan of explicit sex or graphic violence. This has both, but not too much, for now, at least.

A perfect day in our own little Moonrise Kingdom.

 

 

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Sooo…

This is Denver, for the time being.

This coming Monday, it will be fourteen years since we parted, not a single regret.

Left the golden sun and scorching summers.

Left bone rattling thunderstorms and white-hot lightning in the black of night.

Left snow of every stripe.

Left ice skate on the apartment pavement all winter-long.

Left static electric shocks and my hair standing on end.

Left lapis, azure, cerulean, sapphire, and plain blue skies.

Left behind

but not lost.

A road map etched on my heart.

Right to everything

Left to everyone

I’ve ever loved

THERE.

Forever Mine.

.

Colleen Sohn

…

p.s. A link to info about the Huichol VW. Very cool…

 

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