When we bought our new home here in Portland, we loved many things about it.
The location, in a neighborhood full of restaurants and pinball games, and right next to beautiful Laurelhurst Park, was perfect.
The size, big enough for three but small enough to be cozy, was perfect.
The compact, pretty kitchen, where there is room to make everything but tiny enough to clean easily, is perfect.
The only drawback was the window blinds. They had been installed twelve years ago when the place was new. Since this had been a vacation home, they hadn’t gotten much use. Now that they were getting raised and lowered everyday, they were falling apart.
Last month we drove by Bolliger Windows, up on Broadway, and had a look at their selection. We made an appointment for Shelly to come today and measure our windows and decide which kinds will work best for us.
This past week, Steve came by to install them. Because of a communication issue, he was one short, but I have faith that that will be resolved.
We are loving our new blinds. They can be down from the top or up from the bottom, or anywhere in between. Since our windows are right across from our neighbors’, this gives us all some much needed privacy.
We are still in the midst of Rose Festival. There are fund-raiser walks, naked bike rides, and rose displays at the Lloyd Center Mall.
But yesterday we chose to spend our energy at the Starlight Parade. As you might think, this Parade doesn’t even start until dark…actually, around 9:00. So we needed to pace ourselves.
We took the Magic number 15 downtown and got off by the City Fair, the Midway area we visited last week. We played low-price, fun pinball (Batman and Hook), getting better as we went along, having a flipper-slapping good time.
In the next tent a group of hundreds of people, old and young, fit and not, in silly costumes or regular running clothes, gathered for the Starlight Run, a 3.1 kilometer run through downtown. There were costume contests, lots of cheering and laughing, a lovely rendition of The Star Spangled Banner, and then they were off! It was so much fun watching them all have fun. The cast of The Wizard of Oz won for best group. I didn’t expect to see them run!
We ate a disappointingly small pulled pork sandwich while we watched Rhys Thomas, a wonderful local juggler (who also uses juggling to teach physics!) do his show. He has major skills and a great line of silly banter.
Rhys Thomas, Juggler extraordinaire
Walking around downtown, we saw a sign that made my history buff heart very happy. The oldest standing building in Portland, built in 1857 at the corner of Oak and Naito Parkway, is being restored. I always love to see old buildings restored to use rather than torn down.
The winners…on the move!
Walking further along, we saw another piece of history, the Portland Outdoor Store, celebrating its 100th anniversary. This landmark at 3rd and Oak has been owned by the same family, the Popicks, since 1919. The neon sign (which I will return to properly photograph after dark someday) was installed in 1946. They sell a lot of cowboy hats!
We wandered a bit more and found the Runners, still moving along. Those in costume were making a noble effort, and there were quite a few really young runners (about 5 years old) holding their own.
We realized we needed a place to sit for a while, so we headed to our new favorite place, Kells Irish Pub. We had Guinness and cider, soup and fries, and watched Portland come out to play. There were several televisions, showing both a hockey game and the local soccer team, the Timbers, playing the Los Angeles Football Club at our newly opened Providence Park. It was filled to the rafters and everyone watched, talked, cheered, and ate.
When it started to get dark, we headed to 4th street and found a place to stand. Portland parades are always so silly! The marchers wave, chat, and pose with the crowd, and have a great deal of fun among themselves.
There were marching bands playing Queen’s song ‘Fat Bottomed Girls’, and representatives of the Evil Empire.
We cheered for an inflated airplane carried along by Alaska Airlines employees. A platoon of De Lorean gull wing cars came by, and my favorite, The One More Time Around Again Marching Band. This group of hundreds of folks ‘of a certain age’ marching with instruments, flags, batons and energy does my heart good every time I see them.
When we just had to get off our feet, we headed back to Kells…not for more beer, but to call a Lyft. car All the buses had stopped running through downtown and we needed to get home. What an evening! What a city!
Since I am retired, I have time to wander around, notice things, ask questions, and actually find out the answers!
Monkey Puzzle Tree
One of the things I have been asking more of lately is “What tree is that?” Your Great Grandma Billie, my Momma, knew the names of just about every tree she ever met. She had thick books on her shelf to help identify trees, flowers, and birds. She and nature were on a first-name basis.
Chestnut tree
I am not that studious, but I am learning. Momma taught me (and I have taught you) how to identify maples by their hand-shaped leaves and helicopter seeds, and magnolias by their shiny hard leaves and bristly seed pods. I had learned the names of most of trees in Salinas… and then we moved to Portland and have a whole new bunch to learn.
Birch, Rhododendron, and tiny Japanese Maples
There are lots of maples here, as well as different kinds of firs, pines, redwoods, and even Monkey Puzzle Trees. I have met the Dawn Redwood, which was known only by fossils here in North America but still alive in Asia. Seeds were sent from China to America after World War II, and it is now living happily in the Hoyt Arboretum and Laurelhurst Park.
Willie, the baby Dawn Redwood
The other day, Auntie Bridgett and I noticed a tall tree by Sunnyside School, and wondered about it. It had leaves almost like a maple, but not quite…and it had FLOWERS. Orange, tulip-like flowers. I was curious, so took some pictures and looked on a few tree identification websites, but got frustrated with the tiny print and confusing questions.
This afternoon, Grandpa Nelson and I took to fold up chairs to the park and sat under a tree by the dog park area to read and watch the dog drama. And guess what tree we sat under? The same tree, with the orange flowers!
So I got out my phone and took some more pictures, and tried again to find a site that would help. I found “Common Trees of the Pacific Northwest” (on the oregonstate.edu website) was easy to use, with pictures of leaf-shapes and short descriptions.
A fallen Yellow-Poplar blossom
Ta-Da! My mystery tree is a Yellow-Poplar tree. Notice, there is a hyphen, which means it is not a true poplar, but a sort of off-shoot. I know what it is called. I know something I didn’t yesterday.
Yesterday I went to Lone Fir Cemetery again. I didn’t have anything special I needed to do or learn, but something always presents itself if you keep an open mind.
I saw tall, handsome iris on the way. We are now cruising towards full-on summer, with iris, poppies and roses running amuck, and hydrangeas just getting started.
At Lone Fir, I sat in the shade by the graves of these two friends. I can’t remember or read their names, but I remember their story. They were two men, inseparable best friends, who died within days of each other. Their friends buried them side by side and planted a maple tree at their heads. Over the years as the tree grew, it has enveloped the headstones. The roots have joined the two graves and the friends are together forever. Sad and lovely, my favorite kind of story.
Further along, I noticed a chestnut tree. It has shed its blossoms and the tiny chestnuts are showing! They look odd, like baby opossums or baby swans.. .scraggly and fragile, nothing like the beautiful, hard, mahogany-colored nuts they will be by fall.
In a corner of the cemetery I hadn’t visited before, I saw a flat headstone almost entirely covered with dried, mown grass, thrown over the stone by years of ride-on mowers. I could just make out the flower decoration.
I sat down and tried to brush the grass off so I could read the stone, but it had been there for a long time and was stubbornly stuck. I tried rubbing, but my fingers got sore.
I found a Fir cone and used it as a scrubber to loosen the layer of grass, bit by bit. Scrubbing, blowing, and tugging at the overgrown grass, I worked up quite a sweat as I uncovered letter after letter.
“Acred totheme….” read part of the top line. What language was this? I needed to know more! I kept going, scrubbing and sweating and wishing I had worn a hat.
Finally I had uncovered it all.
“Sacred to the memory of John Peabody
Born Nov. 9, 1846
Died Jan. 2, 1877
Aged 30 yrs 1 mo & 24 dy
Erected by his brother
Wm. Peabody”
No mysterious foreign language, just a modest memorial to a young man by his brother. I haven’t been able to find anything about them in the local papers of the time, which means they weren’t rich or powerful, just pioneers like thousands of others who came to Portland, lived as best they could, and died young.
I walked home, as I always do from Lone Fir, thinking about life, how we live it, and what we leave behind.
You know I love playing pinball! I played in college, then when your Daddy David was a little boy, and now here in Portland. We have our favorite game, Monster Bash, at our local tavern called Belmont’s Inn. We even discovered a new game there called The Beatles! And you know I love them.
We had heard about Quarterworld before, but this past weekend at the Rose Festival Midway, we were reminded, and today Grandpa Nelson and I had a long walk there.
We headed off late, because the place doesn’t open until three o’clock, and admission just a dollar from three until six. On the way we got hungry, so we stopped at a new hamburger place for fries and milkshakes.
Next Level Burger is clean, cheerful….and VEGAN. We were half way through ordering before we figured it out, since we hadn’t read the GIANT signs on the wall. We tried “milk” shakes and real French fries. The shakes, though made with soy and whatever else ( they don’t post an ingredient list, even on their website) were rich and very tasty. The fries were okay, but had paprika on them! Grandpa Nelson let me eat them.
After finishing our unconventional treats, we headed east down Hawthorne Street. We stopped at Zack’s Shack, where we got some GOOD fries for poor Grandpa Nelson, then finished our walk …and entered Quarterworld.
The 1913 building was originally a vaudeville, then movie, theater. The ticket booth is just inside the door, just like it has been for 106 years. The carpet has been there … well, not a hundred years, but way too long…. it has that sour what-the -heck -has-been-spilled-on- this smell, which did not make a good impression.
We paid our dollar admission and were told there would be a Tesla Coil Show, warned that it reached 90 decibels, and were offered free ear plugs. I accepted them. 90 decibels is as loud as a home stereo can get, or a lawn mower. Too loud to be enjoyable.
There were over 30 games in the largest room, old pinball and newer video games. I played The Beatles game, and then Bullwinkle, after Grandpa Nelson had a chance at it. Both were fun, fast, had good long play times, and lots of fun audio and eye candy.
Then came the Show. In a caged-off area was a Tesla coil ( a huge electric conductor) which sparked impressively while playing EXTREMELY loud music…the theme from The Muppet Show, Indigo Girls’ songs…. but I couldn’t stay. Even with the plugs and my fingers in my ears, it was painful.
I went exploring. Across the hall (and away from the noise) I found a smaller room with more games, a bar, and some interesting art on the walls.
In the hall on the way out, I decided to try an old friend, PacMan. My fifty cents bought me about 15 seconds of joy, then my little Blinky died and I was done.
We were both done. The noise from the Tesla Coil had rattled Grandpa Nelson’s nerves, so we walked up to a quiet street and headed home for a restful afternoon. Now that I have experienced Quarterworld, I don’t need to go back. For a while, anyway.
On the way home we read this message from a neighborhood youngster…I couldn’t agree more.
Our long visit to the Midway got us tired out and thirsty, so we followed Grandpa Nelson’s direction through the old Chinatown to a place we had heard about for two years but never visited… Kells Irish Pub.
Opened in 1990 by Irish ex-pats Gerard and Lucille McAleese, the Portland Kells is a spin off of the original Kells in Seattle, Washington.
Because it is in a building built in the 1890s, Kells is reportedly haunted by several ghosts. One seems to be the spirit of a victim of the Shanghai tunnels, where drunken men were kidnapped and taken off to be crew for the old sailing ships.
Another ghost has been identified as David Campbell, a Fire Chief who died in 1911 working alongside his men in a building that exploded. He haunts the basement cigar room and is more likely to be seen by those with ties to firemen. There is also a piano that sometimes plays itself and furniture that moves.
We witnessed none of these things. What we did notice was friendly service, cozy decor, and the best bread pudding ever, to go with our Guinness and cider. There was even some Trad music (what you think of when you think of Irish music) and audience participation. It was a musical, slightly raucous respite from the Midway.
Once we were refreshed and it was properly dark outside, we went back to the Midway and found one of those benches, to sit and watch the fireworks. The combination of good company, colorful lights and fiery flowers blooming over the river made for a perfect end to a mighty fine day.
Rose Festival is here! Portland has been called The Rose City since 1888, and this city really loves the flowers. But Rose Festival is also about parades, rides, and fun.
Down by the Willamette, at Tom McCall Waterfront Park, a full carnival has been set up. Tiny rollercoasters for little kids, whirling vomit comets for teenagers, and benches for old farts like me to sit and watch.
It was fun being in the middle of all those kids, none of which were my responsibility. The joy of Not My Kid looms large.
We enjoyed all the silliness that comes with a midway…
A very macho dance contest…
Misspelled signs offering treats…
And rides too cute to believe.
But the highlight of the Midway was the tent sponsored by Quarterworld, where we found a pinball game inspired by the 1960s TV show BATMAN. It had the graphics, villains, music, and even clips from the show. It was discounted, too, with a mere quarter getting you a full game. It was classic, silly, fun.
When we had seen everything twice, we walked down the riverside for a while, enjoying the view of the Eastside from the Westside.
After leaving the Rose Garden, we took the park shuttle to the Discovery Museum, which proudly calls itself a “Center for Timber Culture”. This means it is a museum about forests, built and paid for by the lumber industry. Which is sort of like having a museum of Pig Culture run by the sausage industry.
There were many good parts of the museum. It was pretty, and very kid friendly.
It had beautiful examples of wood carving and furniture, including a magnificent table that had been featured in the “World’s Largest Log Cabin” at the 1905 Lewis and Clark Centennial Exposition. The table had been removed for refinishing in the 1960s, and was safely out of the building when that huge wooden structure burned to the ground in 1964, in a fire that could be seen for thirty miles.
As a way of showing the many different kinds of forests around the world, there was an introductory movie and then a set of exhibits. Each exhibit focused on a region and the mode of transportation you would use to visit that region. To see the endless Russian Boreal forest, we sat in a mock- up of a Russian train and watched the forest zip by. For the tropical rain forest, we stood in a bucket that shook as it rose into the treetops.
I could see how small kids would be interested and entertained.
However….Fully half the second floor was taken up by exhibits about “harvesting” the forest. There were simulators where you could practice running the required heavy equipment, and a giant tree harvester parked right in the middle, its claw wrapped around a tree trunk. It felt violent.
I am a tree-hugging, nature-loving Old Hippie Grandma. To me, if you didn’t plant something, cutting it down isn’t harvesting, it’s stealing. Any film that starts “Clear cutting doesn’t look pretty, but…” has an agenda.
There were even out and out misstatements. “Trees only absorb CO2 from the air as long as they are growing. Once they are fully mature, they need to be cut down in order to continue.” That is NOT true, any more than saying humans only breathe until they grow up.
On the way out, we sat by a simulated waterfall and noticed something. There weren’t any field trips…even though it was a school day and late May is the height of field trip season. I couldn’t help but wonder if this museum of timber culture was too industry-oriented even for teachers desperate for a day out of the classroom.
The one part of the museum that made me really happy was a decade by decade display showing Smokey the Bear. I had a stuffed Smokey as a child, and grew up knowing that “Only I Could Prevent Forest Fires.”Love,
Grandpa Nelson and I returned to the Rose Garden in Washington Park again last week, hoping that three more weeks of sunshine had coaxed some blooms. We found a few.
First, we got to ride on a Trimet bus with a driver who seemed out of his depth. This was the first time I have seen a driver who was clearly lost, and it was unsettling. Apparently some road work had re-routed the bus line, and our young man kept having to back up and make different turns. His confusion made everyone nervous! You can bet that as soon as we were within walking distance of the garden, we walked.
We got some donuts from a fellow who runs a food cart and enjoyed a snack and the cool sunshine before heading into the garden.
What we found were a few more blooms, tall and climbing or small and bushy, all making the most of the May sunshine, and literally hundreds of buds, waiting, right on the cusp of exploding. It felt like they were all just holding their breath.
We sat for a moment on the bench dedicated to Jesse Curry, who founded the International Rose Test Garden in 1915 as a way of rescuing and preserving roses that were being destroyed in Europe by World War I. We owe a lot to his vision and stubbornness.
At the garden we saw one of the e-scooters that have started appearing in the cityfor the summer. These are rented scooters you can sign on to with your phone and take for a spin! They are silent, eco-friendly, and a very popular way for folks to get around town easily and quickly.
When we had seen all the roses and said encouraging things to the late bloomers, we headed off for the next part of our adventure.
As I have told you before, Portland really likes to ride bikes. Kids ride to school, grown ups ride to work, and everyone rides on the weekends, just for fun.
During the warmer weather, the city sponsors an event called Portland Parkways one Sunday a month. Each month, the ride is through a different part of the city.
This past Sunday was the first one of the year, and it started right up the block at Laurelhurst Park! Since it was the first time we’d had the bikes out, we needed to put some air in the tires and get some practice in.
The Park was going to be a ‘hub’, a place with entertainment, snacks, repair booths and places to get information on all sorts of groups. We went early and met folks from “Friends of the Trees” and “Friends of Laurelhurst Park”, two groups I am really interested in. Grandpa Nelson talked to a fellow about bringing Major League Baseball to Portland.
There was a jazz band playing in the dog off leash area, so we hung out and enjoyed for a while, having pretzels and chicken hot dogs to make sure we started with lots of energy.
Then we started off on the eight and a half mile circuit, guided by chalk marks on the road, traffic barriers, and lots of helpful folks who stopped traffic for us and shouted encouragement. We rode through some very familiar streets, then south all the way to Clinton and east almost to Mt. Tabor!
There were a lot of wonderful downhill swoops and some tough uphill slogs, but I didn’t get off to push, not even once. This was a major victory for me.
At Ivon Park we stopped at the Portland Police booth and registered our bikes. It was free! Bike theft is a real problem here in Portland, and it’s better to be safe than sorry.
Along the way were other hubs to catch snacks or a rest, visit with people or just watch the wonderful parade of biking humanity go by.
All the way around and back to Laurelhurst, where more music was going on, as well as the Cascadia Circus fun zone, where kids and grown ups could play. A few more snacks and back home to rest our weary bones.
Last month we drove by Bolliger Windows, up on Broadway, and had a look at their selection. We made an appointment for Shelly to come today and measure our windows and decide which kinds will work best for us.
Love,
Dear Liza 