The Great Trip to Oregon, Part 3: All's Fair

On our way back from central Oregon, we stopped at the Oregon State Fair.
I swear I've told Erin about this fair that I visited almost annually, throughout my childhood. I think she's under the impression I've been holding out on her, but I swear! I haven't! This year the stars aligned and all fifty of us made it to the Oregon State Fair and, well I think it's fair (HA!) to say that a great time was had by all.
 
You can't argue with rainbows AND unicorns. Ellie was in her element.
Erin and Ellie rode the bumper cars. Leo and I (and the babies) were content on terra firma.
After Leo had his face painted (Spiderman, natch) we moved onto the rides. He really wanted the pink
bike.
 
Ellie won that war. (Mostly Leo just really wanted to ride next to Ellie. True story.)
We made some new friends (can't visit Oregon without a hug from Smokey!)

 In between all these shots, we visited with the cows, horses, pigs, goats, sheep, rabbits...you get the idea. We watched people stand in line for a loooong time to hold a baby lion, surveyed the collections (one of my favorite exhibits) which this year included a cereal box collection. Leo and Ellie loved looking at the cakes entered in the cake decorating contest. Leo and Ellie donned fire fighter garb and held fire hoses. In short, small minds were blown at nearly every turn. This fair? It's a kid's dream. And as a bonus? I had just as much fun as a grown-up as I remember having as a kid.

 I can't remember the last time I went to this fair--I guess I must have been a teenager. I am here to tell you it has not changed AT ALL, which, in our times (geez, how old am I?) is saying a lot. You laugh, but this state fair is the epitome of good ole family fun. Funnel cakes and snow cones, jumpy houses and skee ball, miniature horses and long haired guinea pigs. I've tried to replicate this experience at other fairs and festivals in other states and I've yet to do so. Every fair I'll ever go to will get compared to this one. It just feels so comfortable and familiar. (I'll admit I was disappointed by this year's absence of deep fried pickles, but I soldiered on.)

And of course it was the source of one of my favorite pictures of all time (we were fortunate to have Grandma and Grandpa with us at the fair, too).

At the end of a very long (but long in a good way) day, we happened upon a playground built atop a mound of haystacks (only at the Oregon State Fair). The sandbox? Was made of corn kernels. Of course. This playground was serendipitously located not only right next to the beer garden (score!) but across from some more than decent live music. Leo and Ellie played for a good hour (the irony was not lost on me that one of their most favored things ended up being free!) against a backdrop of the setting sun, the sky a swirling palette of blues and pinks and purple. There was a marked chill in the air: autumn was on the way.

It felt so good to be "home."

The Great Trip to Oregon, Part 2: When in Rome

Our days in central Oregon alternated between lazy hours by the pool (well, not exactly lazy) and side trips.

One of our favorites was a visit to the fish hatchery in Camp Sherman. Look closely at the water. All those fish! Ellie is feeding them here. You'd throw a tiny bisquit in the water and hundreds--thousands? would rush to grab the food.

Cowboy Leo read ALL about the salmon and trout.

Why yes, the big kids were outfitted in their western attire (new cow boy hats and boots for both, I for one am seething with jealousy at Ellie's red cow boy boots...they did not come in my size). Hey, when in Rome...

Lucy, not in western garb.

I could have stood on the bridge overlooking this gorgeous water for a loooong time. Such an incredible bluish green color.

After the fish hatchery we headed to Bend where we had lunch at Deschutes Brewery pub (or as I like to call, it the Mother Ship). No pictures of our meal (and beverages) because, well, you can't drink the best beer in the world, wrangle small children AND take photographs.

Post lunch, the big kids and the grandparents went to the High Desert Museum in Bend. Meanwhile, just to shake things up, Erin and I spent a few hours with the babies at an urgent care clinic, suspicious that the lack of sleep and several hours of Lucy wailing the night before might indicate an ear infection. But no dice! Diagnosis: just nasty little colds (and probably the time change) = no sleeping! Ah well, what vacation is complete with young ones without a trip or two to urgent care?

When we weren't fish hatchery or museum going, there was time for dress up. Here's Ellie, channeling Michael Phelps, Dolly Parton and Stevie Nicks.

And morning snuggles with Grandma.

And more art with Grandpa.

A fairy, by Ellie

A fairy, by Leo

"Relaxing" by the pool.

As you can see, it was a rough life.

Still to come: the final Oregon installment, which includes this event, also known as, perhaps my favorite picture ever, of all time.

And in the End, It Was All Worth It: The Great Trip to Oregon 2012: Part 1

And we were off...

Erin, at the Portland International Airport, shortly after arrival. I'm betting we win the award for Most Carseats in Checked Luggage!

At approximately zero o'clock in the morning we woke the kids and took all seventeen bags and fifteen car seats to Newark airport.

Thirty years later (in case you were wondering, a cross country flight with two fifteen month olds? It's long.) we arrived. Sidenote: there were three sets of twins on our flight to Portland. How funny is that?

Less than twenty-four hours after we arrived in Portland we hit the road for Black Butte, where my family has a vacation home and where we've been going since, well, before I was even born. I have so many memories there, which is part of why it's so special to be able to bring my family there now.

Tired yet?

This is the view you see much of the time at Black Butte.

I think you can see why we make the trip. One look at that, and one breath of that mountain air and I am done. In a good way. Stick the proverbial fork in me. Oh and the readily available and plentiful Deschutes Brewery beer doesn't hurt either.

Prior to Black Butte, we stopped in Eugene to see my aunt and cousins. My family has a food booth at the Eugene Saturday Market.

Leo and Grandpa Rog shared an intimate lunch.

The kids frolicked with their cousins (some of whom they'd never even met, ah the plight of cross country living).

Now, let's be honest. With four kids, two of them toddlers, it wasn't much of a vacation as much as it was a relocation. Keeping the babies safe in a non-baby proofed cabin was exhausting (to say nothing of the sleep--or lack of it-they never quite got on Pacific time, not that I expected them to, but Harry? The waking up every hour thing? That was a bit much, my friend. Ahem).

But as a friend said to me when I told her what we were setting off to do, it was a chance to make some wonderful family memories. And that we did.

Leo fished. (For the first time!)

Ellie and I rode a surrey

The babies, as usual, played hard.

By the way, this picture? This encapsulates Lucy and Harry's personalities To a T. This is it. The end. Done.

The big kids got to do art projects with Grandpa Rog.

Days dawned early, as they do wherever we go.

And I'm pretty sure that we broke Grandpa Rog more than a few times.

There was plenty of time to practice walking. Oh! I buried a lead--Lucy learned to walk on this trip!

Video proof of the Lucy walking that runs a bit long and might only be of interest to relatives but hey--if you want to know why we now call Lucy "Lurch"--well, take a look.

And there was time to sit and rest too.

Harry gave Lucy tips on the old verticle moves.

We took a lot of walks.

To be continued...

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.