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Goin’ back a spell for some of these. Time and photos pile UP. While you are here, have a listen to this, a literal match to today’s title, and just a plain perfect song, truth be told. It’s sung by the uber-talented and handsome Devendra Banhart; the reason for our being at the Crystal Ballroom and taking the photo, besides the fact it is neon, of course.

Fun with Matt and Beth and their cute kiddos (thanks for the last photo, too!). A jam packed day it was; with a field trip to the beaver pond and the puppy house; yumminess galore with the nibbling of forest greens, roasted marshmallows, and more; star and planet gazing (Saturn!); much laughter, romping, and silliness; and whispers and whiskey in the dark. I’m so glad we are friends.

We had a little hot spell and took it in stride, kicking it in our hillbilly swimming pool and eating food that requires no cooking. Boysenberries and peas grown in our very own garden patch and my not world famous but maybe it ought to be(!) spicy peanut sauce. Oh, and a little pink fizzy wine – doing it like the French do.

Our sweet friends Jeff and Rena treated me to dinner when I was in Denver. They are blissed out on fabulous Dae Gee Korean BBQ and lively conversation. I was, too.

And finally, some kite flying action!

Until Benjamin showed up and we lost all interest, because, well, you know. Something tells me there will be more of this in our future.

Hope you are well!



Hello Everyone! Are you ready for a looong one? Portland’s had truly Spring-like weather, the absolute best I can recall in my fifteen years as a citizen, excellent for gardening, with more digging, planting, and walking. This time we actually went beyond the city limits to where John McLoughlin, also known as the “Father of Oregon,” first laid claim to the territory in the name of the British.

In the back yard at the McLoughlin House, which was moved from its original location near the river. The cannon dates from 1789!

The tunnel under Singer Hill Road,

named for Singer Creek, which exits on the other side.

I love Art Deco, and the Clackamas County Courthouse is a dandy example.

A spectacularly fine roadster, a ’32-’34 Ford, I think. Hef?

Crossing the Oregon City Bridge to West Linn.

Apparently it was a great day for fishing, too. Dontigny, were you out there?

Yellow Awning

Red Ball

Tiny Vesicles

Cat Walk

Peeling Rust

Climbing the steps to Mt. Seleya.

Stopping for a lunch break at Mi Famiglia. We had a delicious spinach salad and mighty fine wood fired pizza, cremini and peperoncini, to be exact.

I spy…

The poor hubster, the one time he really wants to shop, the place is closed. He missed out on a slice of our childhood, with metal lunch boxes, Matchbox cars, Tonka trucks, action figures, McDonald’s glasses, and much, much more…

The tunnel to the Oregon City Municipal Elevator, the only one of its kind in the United States, and pretty darn cool, if you ask me.

It looks a bit like a space ship from the exterior.

The new Oregon City Bridge, boy is it a looker.

Oregon City is filled with charming houses. This one dates to 1877.

Willamette Falls

West Linn paper and vestiges of businesses past.

Nap interrupted.

My second favorite mural ever! The first is in this post.

The gorgeous Atkinson Memorial Church, circa 1924.

Waterboard Park bridges the second and third tiers of Oregon City. Hushed, save for the songs of robins, towhees, and one giggling human.

This is asphalt, slowly being consumed by earth and landslides. We felt as though we’d entered a portal into Logan’s Run, wondering if around the next bend we’d hear the howl and screech of cats and the moaning of “Sanctuary!”

Downtown Portland from the bluff. The hubster’s building is the tall one on the right. Hi Buddy!

Wisteria in full bloom.

This is considered to be the oldest working fire station west of the Rockies. But who cares about that; the sign is neon!

Inside the 100 year-old Carnegie Library.

Treats at Mike’s Drive-In, a banana and a Mayan shake.

Thanks for another great walk, Laura O. Foster!

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The truth is always an abyss. One must – as in a swimming pool – dare to dive from the quivering spring board of trivial everyday experience and sink into the depths, in order to later rise again – laughing and fighting for breath – to the now doubly illuminated surface of things.

Franz Kafka


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Like a great starving beast

my body is quivering

fixed on the scent of light.


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Greetings from Lan Su Chinese Garden and our latest visit from my dear friend Rob. Despite the cold and the wet, it was a lovely day. And with hardly a soul about, the garden was so quiet and alive. In between the hush, I heard our every footstep and a myriad of drips and drops, from the sky, leaves, and eaves, the quietest of symphonies on the air.

We warmed ourselves in the tea house and listened to a man playing what I believe is the guqin, the music so quintessentially Chinese and lovely to the ear.

I’ve just realized that my longest lasting love affair is with nature, our first mirror, the creator of budding flowers, clinging rain drops, and glistening bark. She fills my life with such wonder and awe.

And then there is neon, bright light of my soul.

Dear sad Schwinn, people can be so unkind sometimes.

Our happy trio.



Love of my life…


Dick’s Kitchen – shakes and burgers (the portobello!) and the best of friends and fries.

The sticker is WAAAY cooler than the website.

Rob goes for a spare.

Worst bowl of my life.

But one of the most fun-filled!

 The Quiet Surprise in action.

Back seat driver.

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