Evening on Mt. Tabor

Tags

art, clothes, finished project, Portland, sewing

I know, you Portlanders are thinking, “But Mt. Tabor is here, and you’re there…”

It’s true, these photos were taken over a month ago in Portland, but they turned out so good that I wanted to share anyway. One of our friends, Bonnie, had asked me if I wanted to do a little photo shoot with her, as she is always looking for more faces to photograph. You can see her lovely project, “30 Faces in 30 Days,” over at her blog, Mosslandia Creative.

And since I am always looking for better photographs of the clothes I make it was an easy “yes”! I took the Scandinavian Folk Skirt that I recently finished sewing up to Mt. Tabor with her, and we tried a few different things. When I put that shirt with the skirt I feel like I should carry a milk-pail around, and lead a cow to market.

Everything I know about modeling I’ve learned from America’s Next Top Model, so blame Tyra if these aren’t supermodel quality. And be sure to check out the rest of Bonnie’s portfolio here (her travel photos are spectacular!). She also does weddings, events, portraits and more!

Tearing Up Over Tamales

Tags

Amsterdam Blogs, Paris, Portland, Prague

I’ve been having a hard time realizing our plans are actually real, and that we’re moving across the world. I blame E-tickets, since there’s nothing in my hand to prove we’re leaving. Virtual reality is hard to hold onto.

The upside of not quite believing is that I haven’t been too emotional about anything yet. Then, today. Wednesdays are Farmer Market days downtown, and there’s a killer tamale stand there every week. For my last day at work I told myself I deserved a tamale so I tripped outside to order one from the long, snaking line. While waiting, I looked around at the Portland sunshine. The chill guys playing guitar on the grass. The puppies sniffing around. The cartons of blueberries and strawberries. The people.

And then, there in the tamale line, I started to tear up. I’m not kidding. All the stress I’ve been holding back the last week bubbled up and my face creased into that Oh-curses-I’m-going-to-cry-look, and I teared up. I had to take a lot of deep breaths and blink rapidly before I was okay again. Did people just think I was really excited for tamales? Who knows. When I got through the line I couldn’t even eat it all, so now I have half a tamale left that I cried over. Here it is, instagram version. (The other half tasted delicious, as always.)

Anyway, we have two days left in the country, which might explain my tamale-induced panic attack. Come Friday, we’re gone. Here’s our plan:

July 29-Aug 1: Vancouver, BC

August 2: Land in Ams, fly to Prague

August 2-6: Prague, Czech Republic

August 6-9: Olomouc, Czech Republic

August 10-18: Paris, France, and side trips

August 19: Pick up keys to our apartment in Amsterdam!

After that, who knows. If you’re in Portland and want tamales good enough to cry over, get yourself to the Park Block Farmers Market downtown on Wednesdays, between 10am and 2pm, and head to the Salvador Molly’s stand. But beware: it’s a long, emotional line.

Portland Before-We-Leave List

Tags

moving, Portland

We had a great sunny weekend here, which was perfect for our epic garage sale. We laid out all our junk, and by the end of the day I’d say we got rid of over half of it! Including some furniture, woo hoo! Also, it’s always nice to hear people on their cell phones, calling their friends to come look at all these awesome clothes for sale. So flattering!

Since the sale took up our whole weekend we didn’t do much else. This means we have four free weekends left until our big move. Four! With packing, seeing friends, cleaning up, and doing errands, the time is going to fly by, so I’ve made a list of the things we have to make sure we do before we leave.

Our Portland Before-We-Leave List

1) Newport Aquarium. I’ve never been, so when a Groupon deal popped up, I snatched it. Now we have to make sure we go!

2) See Midnight in Paris. We’re planning to visit Paris, so it seems appropriate.

3) Pittock Mansion. Another place I’ve never been. A bike ride, a picnic on the grounds , and a tour sounds like a lovely afternoon here!

4) Screen Door Restaurant. We’ve got to spend a gift certificate here, and gorge ourselves on the southern cooking. I choose the fried chicken over waffles.

5) 80’s Dance Night at Lola’s Ballroom. Enough said.

6) See the final Harry Potter movie. I have to leave knowing that the Muggle world is in good hands, you know.

7) And of course, Broder, my favorite restaurant in Portland for reasons I can’t fully explain. I just love it.

 

Our Portland If-Only-We-Had-More-Time List

A few places we would go back to if we had every day free for the next month.

1) Hood River’s Fruit Loop

2) Astoria and the Coast

3) Camping in Jesse’s secret spot. I’m not telling where, but it’s magnificent.

4) Berry-picking at Sauvie Island. What a perfect summer day.

5) Crater Lake. It’s not really in Portland, but oh how I wish I had a week off to go on this epic road trip I planned once. Someday.

6) Jade Teahouse– delicious Bahn Mi sandwiches, macarons, tea, and Vietnamese food, all in one wonderful place.

7) And last, if we were staying, I would make it a top priority to eat my way through this list: 100 Best Places to Stuff Your Faces, via Jen from Under the Table With Jen. The minute I saw this adorably illustrated list I printed it out and checked off the places I’ve been. 32. Not too bad.

I think it’s the perfect kitchen poster for those nights when you haven’t gone grocery shopping, and just want to go out to eat. Don’t know where to go? Reference the list! I’m not sure we can make it to the remaining 68 before we leave…

But we can try.

Anything I’m forgetting that we absolutely have to do? There’s so much I’ll miss in Portland it’s hard to know how to give it the best farewell. Luckily, we’ll be back. I mean, we have 68 more restaurants to check off! You can’t just leave a list like that unfinished.

Biking Monday: Short, Sweet and Steep

Tags

Portland

Seems like Mondays are consistently the day I write about our bike adventures. Which makes sense, considering that we usually go on the weekends! I really want to keep pushing myself to bike more, and longer, with the ultimate goal of being able to do 30-40 miles a day for several days in a row. Say, if we were to ride down the Oregon coast….  Just a thought.

So this summer I’ve decided to really attack that goal, which is funny, because usually Jesse is the one pushing me to bike, and we’ve switched it up this year. I suspect it’s because he’s been commuting on bike all winter, and I totally quit.

I wish all my bike rides looked like this.

Either way, we’ve been starting slow, which works for me. I chose the Short, Sweet, and Steep Ride for us to do this weekend, via the Portland Bureau of Transportation. The ride centers in the West Hills, which is somewhere I’ve never explored much before. The weather report promised some sun, but it didn’t happen, which made for a cold, cloudy, and decidedly damp ride. (Of course on Sunday it was beautiful and sunny. Curses.) 

It’s a 15 mile loop that starts in an immediate uphill. I knew it would be uphill at times, but man, this ride was UPHILL. For a solid 8 miles. We huffed, we puffed, we crawled along, and I admit–we walked a lot. I mean, it was seriously steep.

But other than the debilitating steepness, the wet and cold, and the “are we crazy?” thoughts, it was a beautiful ride. Up into the foggy West Hills, surrounded by masterpiece mid-century modern houses, giant mossy trees, and lonely squirrels, it was like we’d completely left the city. We stopped at Hoyt Arboretum in hopes of spotting some blooming magnolias.

Hoyt Arboretum, early spring

 

Sometimes fashion goes out the window when it rains...

It was a bit dreary from the wet weather. I can’t wait to come back here in a pretty dress when summer’s in full bloom, with sunshine dripping everywhere. I’d bring a picnic, of course.

We rewarded our cold, wet, exhausting ride with some well-deserved beer from Cascade Brewery, then we collapsed into the couch. Next time, we’re avoiding hills.

Tweed Ride: Vice

Tags

Portland

I’ve been holding out. See, last weekend we went on the second of the Tweed Rides, and I didn’t post about it because it was such a wonderful time I wasn’t sure that my words could live up to it.  The last ride was “Virtue,” and this one was well-matched with “Vice.” Last time we played lawn games and ended at a teahouse. This time…well, I’m not sure I can even tell you what we did this time. It was all pretty “Vice-y,” you know, and someday someone might want to run for public office, and might not want their name besmirched by stuff like this. So I’ll do my best to be descriptive without spelling it all out.

We convinced our housemates and friends to suit up and came with us, which made for a delightfully wonderful time. It didn’t hurt that the flask was opened often, the sun was (kind of) shining, and the Tweed flowed freely.

We started in NW Portland and wound our way through downtown, over the Hawthorne Bridge and into Southeast. There was a certain abandoned alley that provided the location for our first illicit stop. Oh, the debauchery!

Picnics aren’t illegal, of course.

After all that action, the ride gets fuzzier. I think there was more flask-opening, more laughing, more admiring tweed and more pipe-smoking. I remember bubbles, too. We wound our way through the streets, waving happily at cars, until we reached House Spirits Distillery, a delightful little local shop. We hugged. We giggled. We promised to be friends forever, and to always wear tweed. (It does something to you, I swear.)

 

And the rest… well, the rest of what happened in that distillery warehouse is something that us Tweeders will never share. You’ll just have to find your own Tweed Ride.

Don’t believe that this can happen outside of Portland? It can, my friends. Kansas City, Osaka, Cleveland, Sydney, Dallas, London– even Helsinki, Finland has a Tweed Ride!  Check out the worldwide reports, along with lovely posters, at Riding Pretty to find a Tweed Ride near you!

For better pictures (as in professional ones), here’s Green Chair Studio’s account of our ride.

Why I Hate Spring

Tags

Portland

via Flickr

I’d like to take a break from my regular good-natured posts to complain for a moment. It’s spring here in Portland. And that puts me in a bad mood.

I know, I recently expressed how excited I was for spring. But the other night as I was once again pulling on rainboots to avoid puddles I came to the conclusion that despite cute bunnies, marshmallow Peeps and budding flowers, spring is my least favorite season. In fact, I heartily dislike it sometimes.

Here we are coming out of a long, cold, dark winter, and all we want is some sunshine and warmth. Spring is emaciated and weak, though–it can’t hold up. Flowers peek out, but they’re dashed by rainstorms day in and day out. The sun tentatively filters through, but it’s not enough to give up scarves and coats. Spring is a tease, and not in a titillating kind of way. It’s not inspiring, it’s disheartening. Hope is worthless if it’s pelted by rain every other day, easily crushed like the cautious flowers.

Fall is a million times better. While I yearn for spring to happen with every fiber of my being, fall is a calm resignation to the changes in life. I’m fortified by the warm yellow summer, ready for the crisp breezes to come, ready to slowly pull on my coat. My belly is full of ripe tomatoes and summer berries, and I’m content to transition to autumn apples, pears, and pumpkins. If fall makes me wait for an appearance, that’s fine. I’ll enjoy summer a bit longer.

Spring is an aching, writhing need. I’m sick of the dark winter, the cold days, the muffling scarves. I’m tired of leek and potato soup, canned tomatoes, and the meagar “seasonal” offerings. The delicate beauty of the flowers isn’t enough: daffodils and cherry blossoms are a small consolation for the cold wet days. Give me some sun, damn it!

You Floridians, Californians, Texans and even my native Coloradans won’t understand. You all get sunshine aplenty, even in the cold days. I will doggedly extol the virtues of Portland every chance I get, but I have to admit… this is the worst time of year to live here. Spring may have sprung, but any hope for sunshine is a good two more months away. Hope wears thin sometimes, like the winter coat I’m sick of pulling on.

I hate spring.

What I Saw

Tags

Portland

Yesterday was one of those days that convince you better weather does exist. It was a dry day, a sunny day, and a warm day, all in one. Plus, the sun is sticking around later in the evening, which always makes me happy.

This was all lucky, since yesterday was also the day my keys weren’t in my purse when I got home. I was locked out. And no one else would be home for another hour and a half. But I was armed with a book (The God of Small Things, by Arundhati Roy), comfy shoes, a coffeeshop to walk to, and my camera.

I go on walks often but it’s rare that I really focus on it. If I’m not rushing to the post office, I’m hurrying home from the store, or talking to Jesse, or thinking about those life stresses (taxes, budget, savings, money, money, money…sigh). But on this walk, all that stopped. I breathed the cool air, ambled through the lengthening shadows, and looked around. Here’s what I saw.

The sunset. It’s not radical or stunning, but it is rare in our cloudy city. This view is looking west down Hawthorne, with that elusive sunlight.

Moss. This isn’t rare here–it’s everywhere, lining sidewalks and crawling up trees. I grew up in one of the driest climates outside of the desert, so I still expect to see fairies fluttering around anything covered in moss.

Spring. I saw it! It’s coming! The rain will come back, but it’s hard to get discouraged when the trees and gardens are in bloom. Hello, pretty pink flower and lovely crocuses.

 

A house that makes me want to speak German and a house that makes me want to speak French. Ein schönes Haus right next to une belle maison. Oui, oui! Ja wohl!

Speaking of fairies, this must be where they live. Or would that be garden gnomes? None of them were around to ask–they were probably all inside.

 

I made it to my coffeeshop (happily, the one where Jesse works,) and spent a nice hour reading and sipping a beer before we went home.  Not a bad way to spend my evening!

Perhaps I should lose my keys more often. I bet those gnomes stole them.

I promise I’m working hard on sewing projects, despite a few hiccups (like being locked out.) Almost, almost done!

The Tweed Ride: Virtue

Tags

Portland

Portlanders have a lot of tweed. Maybe it’s the secret desire to be English professors that we harbor deep down, or maybe it’s just our style, but there’s a lot of tweed out there. And there’s no better way to show it off than by dressing up and riding a bike!

The first Tweed Ride was last year, and while Jesse raved about it, I didn’t get to go. So we were both excited when it rolled around this year. We suited up, threw a suitcase full of snacks on the bike, and headed out.

The ride started at Union Station downtown, where we gathered in full view of people arriving by train to Portland. “Welcome to Portland: here are some crazy people dressed up to ride bikes.” There was a lot of admiring going on: bikes, outfits, hats, brooches, saddle bags, and shoes.

We headed out at a leisurely slow pace through downtown while people waved and honked at us, pointing, smiling, taking pictures. The day was perfect for tweed: cloudy but no rain, about 50 degrees. At our first stop people broke out the flasks, the wine bottles, cigars, and even teacups and saucers while others played croquet and lawn darts.

 

Then we meandered on. The pace was slow enough to enjoy your surroundings, admire outfits and give compliments, and introduce yourself to your fellow “tweeders.” It’s amazing how friendly people are when can all acknowledge that we’re doing something ridiculous just for the fun of it! We talked about bikes, travel, cigars, tweed, thrift stores, music, and more.

The last stop was at Steven Smith Teamaker in NW Portland, who opened on Saturday especially for our group. We tried their small-batch, delicious teas like bergamot, green, iced, and more, and enjoyed it all in their beautiful brick building. So Victorian with all that ivy!

We had a great ride and even ended up meeting a lovely gentleman named Jeff, who lives near us. The three of us rode home together to continue our tweed experience. 

For even better pictures check out bikeportland.org’s Flickr page— it’s easy to spot Jesse by his bright orange cardigan, but this one’s my favorite.  He sported the best mustache there, by far.

If you’re in Portland and you missed it, don’t despair: there’s another ride on April 2nd!  Details here.  This ride was the “Virtue” version, ending at a teahouse. Next time it’s “Vice”… wonder where that one will end? And if you’re not in Portland…well, grab your tweed and come visit!

I am in Love with Cheese

Tags

cheesemaking, Portland

And my fix can now be satisfied at our local Cheese Bar! Oh joy! Jubilation! Excitement! This is my new favorite spot for a date, located on SE 60th and Belmont.
Jesse and I wandered over there last night–it’s walkable from our house, but I think biking would be a bit better, just to get to the cheese faster.

They have a chalkboard with a rotating menu of sandwiches, salads, and a soup, and then you can also order a cheese or meat plate, olives, baguette, beer, and wine. Jesse and I went for Sandwiches #1 and #2. #1 had fontina cheese, prosciutto, greens, and tomato-balsamic dressing. #2 had sheep’s cheese and arugula, both served on a demi-baguette. They were both delicious, though more of a tapas feel than a whole meal.
 And then of course we got a cheese plate. It was three European cheeses, which our waiter thoroughly explained, served with baguette slices and plum chutney. My favorite was the goat’s cheese Brie-type one, of which the name has completely left me despite all the goodness.
It was all amazing. The staff was so helpful and friendly, giving us samples of beer and cheese to try, helping us find exactly what we wanted. We went home with 2 little wrapped bundles of deliciousness–one a sheep’s milk from Italy that fit Jesse’s wish of “something pungent,” and another a creamy goat’s milk that will balance the pungent one perfectly! They are safely wrapped in paper, chilling out in our fridge until a later time.
The knowledge that they are sitting there is delicious and naughty, like knowing you’re going on a fancy date later. And I will be! These cheeses deserve to be dressed up for! Have a table set for them, with fancy goblets of wine and crusty breads on rarely-used special dishes.  Well, hello, Mr. Cheese. Welcome to my plate.

Hello, Spring!

Tags

Portland

It’s my weekend! Since I often go a few days without even leaving the building (the curse of working in the same place you live), on weekends especially I like to make a special effort to get out. Sometimes it’s hard, though, when it’s a gloomy day and all I want to do is sit inside, drink tea and sew.
But this morning was a cloudy, sun-spotted, spring morning, so it was the perfect day for a bike ride to Washington Park.

A few notes about this picture.
  1) The hat. I bought it for $5 at Urban Outfitters, and I’m pretty much in love with it. Hats take a certain commitment to wear–you have to wear it knowing that some people might think you look ridiculous, but it doesn’t matter, because you like it. And for $5?? Why not, I say.
2) The hill. This is only a slight hill, but it came after 5 major hills, a few stops for breathing, and a couple bike-walking intervals. I need to get more exercise.
3) And perhaps most important, The Tree in Bloom. I love these trees! Portland is full of them! It’s like the world’s signal that it’s finally spring, and even though it might rain a few more weeks, it’s okay, because things are blooming and the gray days are over.

Washington Park is up on a hill above Portland, giving it great views of the city, but also making it feel in certain places that you’re nowhere near a city. Lots of trees, a Rose Garden, benches, green grass, and birds make it a perfect place to go look for Spring. Jesse and I brought some pastries and books, and took our time.

It makes me want to read The Secret Garden.

 

The first rose of spring!

What a good weekend morning!