Clicking My Ruby Slippers

More and more, Portland feels like home.

The afternoon of our arrival, Ellie running into the arms of Grandpa at the airport.

I don’t know what it is. The older I get, the more I am learning what’s really important. What really matters (if you need any more convincing, see above photo). Finally. I know it’s such a cliché. And I know that no city or place is perfect and that no matter where you go, there you are. But.

Recently, Ellie and I had the privilege of traveling to Portland to attend the opening of my dad’s one man show. Unfortunately, Erin and Leo didn't get to make this trip and it would be an understatement to say that Portland certainly isn't the same without them.

Oh, Portland.

With your lush, ripe, greenery.

Your explosions of spring flowers. Words hardly do it justice.

Ellie and I were up and out before 8 a.m. most mornings.

Destination: Stumptown.

Ellie (poor girl) associates coffee with Dunkin Donuts (the closest “coffee shop” in our New Jersey neighb) and therefore “going to get coffee” equals Munchkins. So when I told Ellie we were going to get coffee, her first question/statement was “I want a donut.”

And donut she had.

Voodoo Donut, to be specific. And in case you were wondering, yes, those are Fruit Loops on that donut. Thanks for asking. I am lucky Ellie didn't explode with joy.

Meanwhile, I had Thai every chance I could.

It reminded me of when I went to Paris for the first time and had my first “real” crepe. Thus began a one week crepe binge. Sometimes I would have two or three a day (cheese for lunch, followed by Nutella for desert) just because I could and just because I knew when I returned home to the states crepes would not be sold on every street corner.

It was great to see old friends.

I was finally able to meet my dear friend Elizabeth’s children in the flesh. Facebook photos only go so far.

It was a dreadful, stormy, bleak day when we met so we gallantly (stubbornly? desperately?) trudged our whimpering children to a nearby coffee shop in the Pearl District. While ordering, I overheard Elizabeth ask for tea, and I worried for a minute that she'd become one of those people who can wake up at five a.m. and still be cheerful with her two and four year old at noon without caffeine. But then I realized the tea was for her two year old. She ordered a triple latte for herself and I breathed a sigh of relief. Pfew. We could still be friends.

That coffee shop was also the scene of one of my favorite Portland Moments. It was when Elizabeth tried to convince her four year old to ask the barista if her empty cocoa cup was "compostable." I'm sure the Oregonians reading this are shrugging their shoulders. Compostable? Sure, why not? Let's just say things are not quite this way in the old NJ.

Later, the short people explored Tanner Springs Park, a sweet little oasis in the heart of the Pearl District (not that the Pearl District exactly needs an oasis). (We later realized we probably shouldn't have let the kids, um, tromp all over the ecosystem. Sorry about that.)

Later the girls enjoyed the view, high above industrial Portland, while we waited for the elevator.

Oh Portland, with your embarrassment of riches at the famed Portland Farmer’s Market. You are glorious, even on a raw, wet April day.

Flowers for sale (It's only April!)


Ellie boogying in the mud.

Oh Portland, with your food carts. (By the way, that little cart? Sawasdee Thai Food? BEST PAD THAI EVER. Oh and $6. Take THAT Yucky New York City $12 Pad Thai. I spotted it on our way home from the Farmer’s Market and literally yelled, “Stop the car!”

Ellie adored the park of my childhood, Laurelhurst, and all its riches (Hey, I think my two-year-old bottom rode that same teeter totter!).

Oh Portland, with your funny little pieces of “found art.”

Someone stuck this funny little duck (?) in the tree outside my dad and stepmom's house. Because that's what people do in Portland.

Oh Portland, with your wisdom:


Oh Portland, two words: Waffle Window.

Genius. (Pictured: caramel with fresh bananas and pecans)

And only a grandma would be in possession of a certain two and a half year old’s dream come true:

a Pink umbrella. Yes it’s true.

And I know we’ve covered this, but I couldn’t resist one more shot.

Beer and peanuts.

Don’t worry. Before we took Ellie to the brew pub she had a nap and a sufficiently kid friendly afternoon at OMSI.


Of course, it’s tempting to romanticize a place when all you are doing is going from family member to family member, friend to friend, shopping and eating Thai food and drinking Stumptown and Mirror Pond. That’s not real life. If we lived there, there would still be bills to pay and jobs to work and kids to ferry to and from school and day care.

Sure there would be the usual drudgery. But with family.

Grandpa and Ellie playing their favorite game of this trip: "Grandpa's rocking, Ellie's rocking, let's touch feet!"

There would be many friends.

And much, much better scenery.

Two Years and a Check-In

I'm here. There has just been a lot going on (I know, I know, snore). I rarely go this long without at least a quick hello. But there was busyness at work and the flooded basement and the moldy carpet and the money sweats. There was yard work (finally!) and cross country travel.

And I am making plans. We are making plans. A lot of plans. And my mind is swirling and hoping. Overwhelmed by all there is to do but feeling boosted by the knowledge that when you really want something to happen and people are pulling and praying and rooting for you, you can succeed. I don't mean to be cryptic, but right now I have to be.

And in the midst of it all, this little blog, my often mundane, tiny savior and sometime (OK, frequent) lifeline, just turned a ripe old two years old. It's hard to believe. I've made some dear, dear friends and can't imagine life without them. I think/hope you know who you are. I've learned so much and have so much more to figure out.

It's crazy to think that when I started coming here, this is what those little people I write about so often looked like:


And now, look at Ellie.

So mature, she's hanging out in bars.
(Full story: Grandpa thought Ellie would enjoy shelling peanuts (Boy, did she! Good call Grandpa!) at the Lucky Lab Brew Pub during our recent--and I assure all you Portlanders out there who didn't get a hug--extremely brief visit).

More soon.

You Can and You Can't Go Home Again

As hard as it was to go back to work right after we returned from Oregon, it was probably a good thing. I am a big sufferer of post vacation blues, particularly when that involves returning home from a beautiful place like Oregon, which elicits smiles like this:

Gee, they don’t look happy or anything, do they?

The trip was brief (six days), but wonderful.

First of all, can we talk about the coffee?

Stumptown Coffee. If you like coffee, find a way to get to Portland and to Stumptown. You will not be sorry. And your latte will look like this.

Art, truly.

But it's not just about coffee. Portland is just unlike any place. I grew up there, so I took it for granted my whole young life, longed to leave it for a good many years. And now that I’m gone, as much as I love my big city (now, more like big city adjacent) life, I find myself coming up with weekly, if not daily schemes to claw my way back. Maybe someday. But for now, it is not to be. In the meantime, there are memories.

Portland is where a house like this is the norm.


Portland is where yards run the gamut, from wild but well kept perennials to disheveled “hippy” lawns, bearing signs that read: “Free dandelions.” True story.

We took many early morning walks (anything to get the loud children out of the house where grandparents still slept) and met a lot of cats.

And it turns out the kids like cats (note the wild, unmowed, hippy yard). And yes that gray blob is a cat.

The day after we arrived, the wedding whirlwind began in full swing. There was a rehearsal Friday afternoon (as mentioned previously, Leo was ring bearer and Ellie was flower girl, while I did a short reading). I admit to having a brief freak out. What if my children ruined my sister’s wedding?

Of course, these angels didn’t ruin anything. And as I said, it all went swimmingly.

That night we went to the rehearsal dinner at a Thai restaurant (another Portland must is Thai food. I lived for many years in the culinary mecca of New York City and still live in close proximity and I’m telling you I never had Thai as amazing as I’ve had in Portland).

But Leo’s views on Thai? Let’s just say he’s not a fan. Desperate, I convinced the waitress to make Leo scrambled eggs (it’s his go-to dish, any time, any where). We figured, there’s egg in the Pad Thai, would it be so much to ask?


Leo kissed the plate when the server brought it. I kid you not. No one ever faulted Leo for not being appreciative.
The maraschino cherries in the Shirley Temples also helped occupy the small people at the table.


A sure sign that Leo is enjoying himself is when his eyes close. It was maraschino bliss.

Shameless, gratuitous photo to show off adorable sailor dress purchased at thrift store for $3.50.

The next morning, the crush began to make the hooligans presentable and well-rested for the big event.

Here they are about 30 minutes before the wedding pictures were taken. As I said, Leo does not wake up in a good mood. Needless to say, he did not appear in any of the wedding pictures.

Moods improved exponentially once there was food. And guess what? Leo can dance!

He loved the music and for a great many songs he was the only one on the dance floor. Leo and Ellie even danced together, albeit, briefly.

(not pictured: the fact that this quickly dissolved into Leo dragging Ellie to the ground a la “ashes, ashes we all fall down!”).

It was a magical evening, the sun setting a milky, orangey pink behind an overcast sky, family members from far and wide and old family friends, some of whom I hadn’t seen for years and years or more, some of whom had never met the children, mingling on the lawn behind an Oregon vineyard. It was dreamlike.

With the wedding over, it was time to switch gears.

We went to the Oregon Zoo and met Samudra, the first third-generation baby elephant to be born in the United States. Leo, like the rest of us, was in love.



After the elephants, well-deserved snowcones with the grandparents in a shady spot.

We went to Multnomah Falls where we took the proverbial family photo in front of the falls. (Check out Leo-miserable as usual.)


And that was that. To all the friends I didn't get to see-I'm so sorry. It was a dizziness inducing short trip. The next day we boarded the plane. Back to New Jersey.

Sigh.

I finally saw "Julie & Julia" (more on that in another post) over the weekend. In it, Paul Child tells Julia “home is wherever we are.” I love that notion, and aim to keep it in my mind when I’m feeling homesick, no matter where I am and no matter where I long to be. The truth is, no place is perfect, not even Oregon. And if the statement “wherever you go there you are” is not the truest sentence ever uttered, than I don’t know what is.

As much as I often wish we lived in Oregon, I know that part of the reason it is so special is because we don’t live there. If I could get that Stumptown latte every day, would it be as sweet? Would a visit with Samudra the baby elephant be as memorable?

Who knows. In the meantime, I'll keep going "home" as often as I can.

The Cranky Ring Bearer Redeems Himself

We are back from our week in my beautiful hometown, Portland, Oregon. My sister is now a wife, and I have gained a handsome brother-in-law (hi Ryan!).

It was a little hairy and for a few minutes there, I didn’t think it would happen (Leo's participation in the ceremony, not the wedding itself!). Let’s just say the junior members of the wedding party were fast asleep about thirty minutes before the ceremony and a certain little boy does not wake up in a good mood. But in the end, Leo was a model ring bearer.

Since I was in the actual wedding, I couldn’t take any photos of the real deal (these were taken at the rehearsal), but you get the idea. I have some of the kids dressed in their wedding finery that I'll post later.

Ellie held hands with the other flower girl but when she saw Erin waiting for her at the end of the long aisle, she broke free.

That’s the sweet maid-of-honor in the background who was wonderful with Leo, holding his hand and talking to him the whole way down the aisle. Also, note the snacks. Those helped perk Leo up from his bad, post nap mood. Obviously there were no pretzels during the actual ceremony.

Relaxing, post-rehearsal and pre-rehearsal dinner (aka the great Thai food/maraschino cherry fest of 2009).

We are all tired and happy to be home.

More soon. There is much to tell.

Sweet

I forgot to include this photo in the vacation montage. Taken at the playground of the park of my childhood. They are attempting to slide together. I love it. I love the look on both their faces. The tenderness. Just, sweet.

All Good Things Must Come to an End

The title of this post is borrowed from one of my dad's favorite expressions. I hate to be depressing but when you think about it, it's really true.

We are back from our vacation in Oregon. We spent several days in Portland, my hometown, and a few more in central Oregon at my family's cabin. Every time I visit, I ask myself the same question. Why don't we live in Portland? Family, so many wonderful friends. A more humane existence. A slower pace.

Logically, I know there are many, many reasons why we are here, for now. But it's still hard.

Here are a few snapshots of our trip. And of all the things I miss about Oregon.



The playground with Grandpa.


Riding a pony for the first time.


Reading with Grandpa.


More reading with Grandpa.


Recovering from jetlag in the Fred Meyer parking lot while Erin shopped for groceries.


Seeing our good friends the Websters. Leo reuniting with his future wife, Lily (seen here, going in for the hug).


The Hawthorne Bridge, on a quintessential rainy Portland day.


Rainbows at Black Butte.


Funny sites in parking lots.


Discovering sprinklers.


Outdoor cafes.


Meeting totem poles with Grandma.

More to come. I am still digesting it all. I hope you can be patient, I feel like I have a dozen posts swirling around in my head. So, yes. More to come.