olive tree

Saturday’s beautiful weather prompted me to queue up some Motown music on Pandora and clean our patio, in preparation for warm nights spent lounging outside while corn on the cob and steak sizzle on the grill.




















Jesse finished up at work early and we headed for this year’s Alberta Art Hop in the northeast part of Portland. The festival stretched for blocks, white tents shielding local artists for as far as we could see. The art wasn’t overwhelmingly wonderful, but the wide variety of musical performers made me very happy. They were set just far enough apart that the calm notes of a single cello didn’t interfere with the lively funk music, and the funk didn’t interfere with the two guys playing drums and guitar in a vacant parking lot. One man sporting sunglasses played a saxophone while tap dancing on a wood pallet. A young, happy looking kid played guitar and sang a song about many different kinds of laughter (not my favorite).

I have to declare a tie for my favorite overall element of the Art Hop. First was the homemade “Free Advice” booth, manned by a seemingly thoughtful guy who was counseling a person wearing a bike helmet. But then there was the remarkably tiny dog that looked like some kind of ancient cat fish from Asia.

Though we had shared a deliciously messy pulled pork sandwich with extra barbeque sauce (and a side of mac salad that didn’t quite compare to what we sampled in Rochester last summer), we had to hit up The Grilled Cheese Grill once we were finished walking around. We both opted for the tasty “BABS” – toasted rye bread filled with Swiss and bleu cheeses, bacon and slices of green apple. Upon ordering we were given a baseball card rather than the usual numbered plaque. We waited at a shaded picnic table for the sweet words “Dickie Thon, your order is ready” to ring through the air.

potato leek

The grand plan I developed for my evening while still at work seemed much less appealing as I rode the MAX home from work and the steady, smooth movement of the train over the tracks moved me toward sleep. I had intended on going to SCRAP (Portland’s “Creative Reuse Center”), Collage (one of my favorite local art supply stores) and the recently-opened Grilled Cheese Grill (http://www.grilledcheesegrill.com/).

After dropping Jesse off at work, I went home to grab my camera and had to fight the urge to change into pajamas and fall asleep on the couch. My head was pounding from lack of coffee, but I tried to adhere to the notion that getting out and doing something out of the ordinary would be beneficial.

SCRAP had mysteriously moved since the last time I visited, but I found it without too much difficulty. The place is open, cool and dim, full of buckets and bins and tubs of rubber bands, corks, greeting cards, photographs, postcards, file folders, bubble wrap, carpet samples and zippers. The possibilities are overwhelming, but my creativity needs a bit of improvement before I will be able to stock up on random gizmos and make something attractive or useful out of them. Their stock is constantly changing as donors drop off bags of the most random, seemingly useless objects you’ll ever see. The most interesting things I found this time were huge rolls (four feet tall?) of heavy-duty, plastic/paper with hologram designs in bright colors. I only left with what I had come for: 5 durable cardboard shipping tubes, which I’ll use to protect my bookmaking papers, which keep getting smashed up in my closet.












I drove over to Collage and was greeted by a friendly, yet vaguely imposing homeless man before I could slip inside the store. He started to give me an animated, rehearsed speech about the one dollar he needed for bus fare in order to get to the shelter that had reduced their bed price from four dollars to two dollars, TWO dollars, for the most worthy homeless people. Unfortunately, I had spent my entire $1.25 in change on those handy tubes.


I picked up a couple things for a friend and upon leaving the store, thought for several seconds that my car had been stolen. I thought the man who had spoken to me had found another way of reaching his destination. In actuality, I had just parked much further away than I realized. I drove towards the big painted school bus at Alberta & 11th that houses the seating for the Grilled Cheese Grill when I realized, to my disappointment, that grilled cheese didn’t even sound appetizing. Let down.

The day was so, so gray, the wind too brisk and chilly. Though venturing out hadn’t been awful, I needed to go home. I grabbed some soup on the way, something to warm me up and sooth my spirit. It helped.