We had some errands to do yesterday, so Auntie Bridgett and I went for a nice long walk. And since all the places we needed to go were down on Hawthorne, we saw how that street is changing during the lockdown.
We saw that Chez Machin, a lovely French bistro type place, has changed its name to Frog and Snail. I am hoping it is just a name change and the owners are the same. They are nice folks, and too many people are losing their livelihoods because of the shutdown. We will have a taste of their frogs and snails when the city opens up more.
We still found a lot of businesses closed, but the art and messaging is beautiful and hopeful. I took pictures as a way of holding tight onto goodness and love.
I have been so dismayed these last few days at the level of anger and violence that has swept over Portland and the rest of the country that I sometimes just want to curl up and sleep until all the hatred has passed.
But love, beauty and just plain human goodness are making themselves heard, too. And that gives me comfort.
After dropping off dry cleaning and mailing packages, we stopped at Hawthorne Liquor. Auntie Bridgett is on a mission to find a certain kind of yummy cognac that we had on an Air France flight, years ago. We have yet to find it anywhere in the city. But I did have time to wonder at this improbable bottle of pear brandy!
On the way home we stopped at Whole Bowl for lunch, which we ate while sitting on the chairs outside the temporarily closed Common Grounds coffee shop. We stopped at Chase bank to return someone’s lost credit card, and enjoyed some more street art.
By the time we got home, we had walked nearly three miles! I felt pretty accomplished, after these long months of too much sofa-sitting. Maybe we can put ourselves out of this hole, after all.
I have been telling you about how life has changed during the corona virus shut down, including re-connecting with my old friend Ruth Inman. She is now an artist, and she lives in Illinois. She does a lot of different kinds of art, and her website is called Brush with Many Colors. You should go have a look sometime.
Ruth has started an on-line art group using ZOOM, and I have been attending two times a week. At first I thought I would just watch and chat, because I have never had much confidence in my art skills. I have a tremor that makes my right hand unreliable at times, which makes it even more frustrating.
But Ruth is such an easy going teacher! She gives good directions but then adds, “But if it does this instead, you can make it work by doing this..” and knowing there are lots of ways to do it right has let me feel more confident. I started painting.
I am using the watercolors we found on the sidewalk years ago, so there’s not much of an investment, except time, which I have plenty of.
This art class has happened just when I wanted to start making cards and writing letters for the elderly residents at Laurelhurst Village Home nearby, and I have started using the flowers I paint with Ruth and her friends for the cards!
Voila, as the French say.
I have someone to teach me, a way to practice, and a place for my pictures to go and make people smile. It’s a very nice combination.
Saturday morning we were WOKEN UP by a wonderfully loud and flashy thunder-and-lightning storm. We had seen the clouds wafting in Friday evening as we sat on our balcony, and knew it was only a matter of time.
I love thunder storms. The power and energy give me a sense of perspective, an understanding of my tininess in the face of universal forces. I can picture myself as one of the mice huddling under bushes or birds snuggling in their nests.
And speaking of tiny creatures, it is Spring, which means baby animals have been on my radar.
My friends Amy and Angela have gotten kittens, named Terri and Princess Zelda, respectively, who are keeping them company during the shut down.
At Lone Fir, I followed one young squirrel in his exploration of the sunny headstones, and another, more ‘substantial’ fellow perching on a monument.
And then there are the ducks! Laurelhurst Park’s little Firwood Lake is home to a few dozen ducks, and this week, most of them are guarding little flotillas of fluffy ducklings. It is an eleven out of ten on the cuteness scale.
This little guy got tired of swimming and followed Momma up onto shore for a rest.
And that is your dose of tiny animals for the day!
Since mid-March, the corona virus shut down has had all the non-essential stores closed. We could buy food, gas, and medicine, and even some take out food. But art galleries and shops have had to go on- line for business.
And, for many, it has worked out well. Even with the doors closed, Auntie Bridgett’s gallery, SideStreet Arts, has had sales almost equal to last year’s. The members have kept their art on display through Instagram, Facebook, and an on-line newsletter. Last month’s ZOOM First Friday was well attended and had lots of sales. First Fridays will continue to be ZOOM for a while, as we get used to a “new normal”.
Governor Brown has announced it is time to (carefully) open Portland for business. The city is considering closing some streets to traffic so restaurants and bars can spread out, allowing more space between customers. And SideStreet Arts is getting ready, too. June 4th will be their first day open, from Noon until 5 PM! Woo-hoo!!!
Auntie Bridgett and the other artists have been cleaning, re-painting, and rearranging all the art. They are putting some health procedures into place, like bottles of hand sanitizer in every part of the gallery and a plexiglass shield at the register. They have moved pedestals around to allow more space between shoppers and will be allowing people to use their own bags. They have changed their small kitchen to a hand-washing station.
And they will be offering masks to customers who want to come in and browse but didn’t bring one. That’s where I come in.
I am making a bunch more masks, single-layer for comfortable shopping, which the customers can keep and even wash and re-use, if they like.
Many businesses are working out these same snags. The point is to limit the spread of germs while being as comfortable as possible. It is a narrow line to walk and not everyone agrees on everything. But if we understand that everyone is doing their best and, when in doubt, smile and say “Thank you”, I think we will be fine in the end.
Saturday was beautiful and sunny, so between art and errands, Auntie Bridgett and I walked over to visit the Dead People at Lone Fir. This old cemetery is lovely in any weather, but on a sunny spring day it seems to deliver the package of emotions I need; beauty, mourning, eternity, new beginnings and final endings. It was wonderful.
And I found a new friend. This eight foot tall monument was erected to James Gray Flowerdew (great name, right?) who had died on July 22, 1872. The Masonic emblem is on the tombstone, so we know he was a Mason in good standing. He was also only 37, which seemed really young to have this sort of marker.
I was really curious about this fellow, and got on the Internet to find out more about him. Mr. Flowerdew was born in Dundee, Scotland in 1835, where he and his family owned property. I know he lived there at least until 1867, because he is listed in a court case where he and other members of his family were awarded an inheritance due them.
He came to Portland sometime between 1867 and 1870, and on January 2, 1871, he formed a new company, Hewitt, Flowerdew and Co., with businessman Henry Hewitt. According to an ad in a June 1871 Oregonian, they had offices at the corner of First and Ash Streets downtown and bought and sold shipments of Liverpool Salt, Scotch Pig Iron, Dundee textiles, tin plates, and sheet iron.
The company got a valuable new client that June, the Imperial Fire Insurance Company of London. The ad announcing this business move was placed by Henry Corbett and Donald Macleay, powerful movers and shakers in Portland industry. Mr. Macleay was also from Scotland, so maybe having this in common with him helped young Mr. Flowerdew.
On August 16, 1871, Mr. Flowerdew was appointed as Vice Council to Great Britain, being congratulated in the official documents of the State of Oregon by Governor L. F. Grover. Life was good. His business was growing and he was becoming important politically. Then tragedy struck.
Sometime in June of 1872, he was thrown from his buggy in an accident, and died six weeks later of his injuries. He had been in the country less than four years. His brother and sisters back in Scotland put up this magnificent marble monument to him.
So now I know a little bit more about Portland’s late, great population. Only about a million folks to go!
On Friday, Grandpa Nelson finally felt lousy enough to call the doctor. He had been having fevers every night for weeks, along with fatigue and dizziness. I mentioned this to your Mommy (Dr. Olga), and she said Grandpa Nelson should talk to his doctor. They chatted via an on-screen meeting and agreed that Grandpa should visit the hospital and get checked out.
Auntie Bridgett drove and I rode in the backseat as we three traveled across the river to the west side for the first time since the shut down began in mid-March. It was so good to see the Willamette River sparkling and the bridges arching in the sunshine. Downtown, though emptier than usual, was beautiful. The parks and statues glowed, and the shining buildings reflected the clouds and sky. It felt like coming home.
We continued up the hill to OHSU, where we have been many times, but we didn’t just park and walk in. As part of the new procedures for limiting everyone’s exposure, we waited in the car and called to let them know we had arrived. A doctor walked to one of the small tents and Grandpa Nelson left the car to be escorted in. Auntie Bridgett and I had to wait in the car. I understand that fewer folks in and out of the building is safer for everyone, but I still wished I could go with him. We read, sewed, and drew, for nearly an hour.
When Grandpa came out he said that his had been checked for blood oxygen (fine, at 97%) blood pressure (a bit high, at 160) and been swabbed for the corona virus. That result won’t be back for a day or so. He was told to stay inside and rest and limit exposure to other folks. He was also told that whether this was Covid or some other virus, he would not be “well” until he had three full days with no fever.
Once we were home he had lunch and slept for a long time, got up, had dinner and went back to bed. Now we just wait for the results and do what we’ve been doing. Positive or negative, it won’t really make a difference. There is no cure, or even effective treatment. But we will know.
PS. We got the results back. No Covid-19 in this house! Grandpa Nelson still feels icky, but at least it’s not big and scary. Just small and irritating.