Long Day

 

Long day, as in the kind one wishes to  s t r e t c h, the body on tip-toe, to see, do, and be more, more, more. My dear friend Rob was in town on business and we had three hours at lunch time, our first stop at Broder and then Roman Candle, two very Portland places, as per his request. The Swedish meatballs and lefse as fabulous as ever, and our adorable server, with his playful winks the cherry on top.

The beautiful pastry is the Kouign Amann (the first word pronounced like queen) and the very last in the case. An elderly woman stepped in front of me in line for a moment to eye it, and I wondered if I could go Seinfeld on her like that episode with the marbled rye. Friends, I love this pastry, and I am glad I didn’t have to find out. It is buttery with a delicate crisp to it, topped with a crunchy layer of sweet and fleur de sel, happiness!

We had just enough time to wander and take photos, as is our nature when together, and so very much fun, too.

I had an hour in between my time with Rob and picking up the hubster for date night, and decided to stop in at Lone Fir Cemetery to pass the time. It is Portland’s oldest, with its first burial dating to 1846.

Picturesque and precisely what I imagine when daydreaming about cemeteries, towering trees and a gentle undulation of the land, with nary a sound to be heard. Squirrels hopped and scurried, lucky to live in this wondrous place of eternal sleep. I shed a tear over more than one stone; the pastor and his missionary wife, ceramic portrait in their Sunday best; the long-time companions taken by AIDS in the nineties, lighthouse showing the way; too many children who failed to live to double-digits; and WHITE, surname of one of my nearest and dearest friends, may his remaining time be  l o n g.

Happy Hour at Park Kitchen, the best salt cod fritters ever with a drink that tasted like chai, and more wandering in the Pearl. Then we headed to Powell’s to buy a book. The hubster made this face when I read a kind of creepy title to him. Of course I laughed until I nearly cried and made him do it again for the sake of the photo. That man is the B E S T.