Portland – Page 11

Cats in Portland

Dear Liza,

**Creepy hairless cat doubts our sincerity**

With all the walking we do around the neighborhoods, we get to see a lot about people’s lives. We see them moving in or out, jump starting dead batteries, arguing with their children, picking the fruit in their gardens, and helping pull fallen branches from the street.

We see a lot of dogs being walked… on leashes and off, poking along behind, dashing ahead, or being wheeled in carriages. Portland is a very big dog-city. I heard that 50% of the households have one or more dogs. That’s millions of dogs!

I do enjoy the dogs. I love seeing the dog-joy on display when the leash is unclipped and they run at top speed, just because they can. I love how dogs are part of people’s lives wherever we go.

But you know me. I am a cat person. Their joy of sleep, their short list of needs, their “yeah, you feed me, but let’s not make a big deal about it” attitude.

Cats in Portland are mostly people friendly. They will saunter up to be petted, or dash over as if checking our credentials. They roll to be petted or stoically stand their ground. What they don’t do as much is run away. These are confident cats.

I enjoy their company very much.

Love,

Grandma Judy

**Thanks for petting me, now go away. New people are coming!**

River View Cemetery, Part 2

Dear Liza,

**Memorial to the Second Oregon Regiment**

There were so many interesting things (and people) at River View Cemetery, I wanted to share some more with you. The famous people memorialized here don’t stop at founders and politicians. Important people like Henry Weinhard, one of the first and most successful brewers here in the land where we love beer, is buried surrounded by his family and whimsically remembered with a can of beer.

Colonel Owen Summers and his Second Oregon Regiment from the Spanish American War in the Philippines are all here. The men are buried in a circle that surrounds a statue of a soldier, the flag nearby at half-staff for the late John McCain. Colonel Summers himself is buried away from this area, with his wife and family.

Captain Couch, a sea captain who developed an entire portion of the city, is buried under an impressive, nautical themed column with chains, an anchor, and compass. Another set of “streets” buried nearby are Flanders, Glisan, and Hoyt.

You see, when Captain Couch mapped out his neighborhood in Northwest Portland, he labeled the streets by letters: A, B, C, etc. Later city planners wanted something more “romantic”, so they chose men from Portland’s history to coincide with the letters, like Ankeny, Burnside, and Couch himself. This decision now gives us a shorthand history lesson as we drive through town. We can also see that, like today, offspring of important people often married offspring of other important people, which we see in headstones such as “John Couch Flanders” and ” Caroline Couch Glisan”.

David Campbell, the Fire Chief who died saving his men in 1911 and who is also memorialized on West Burnside, is buried here.

Harvey Scott, who was editor of the Oregonian newspaper for many years, is here. He and I don’t see eye to eye on things, as he opposed women’s suffrage and public high schools. Interestingly, his sister, Abigail Scott Duniway, a suffrigist and prolific author who also edited a newspaper ( The New Northwest) is buried at River View. I wasn’t able to find her memorial, but I haven’t covered even half the ground yet.

In the words of another famous dead person, “I shall return.”

Love,

Grandma Judy

Flying with the Panther

Dear Jasper and Kestrel,

Yesterday morning, Cousin Liza and I got to have another adventure before I left Salinas to come home to Portland. We woke up early, had a quick breakfast, and got our adventure clothes on. We packed some bread, cheese and blueberries for snacks and were out of the house by 9:00.

We enjoyed looking at all the flowers that are going to seed, and talked about how flowers help plants make baby plants. Her great grandma Billie would be so proud of her! Liza can recognize lamb’s ears by their fluffy leaves, magnolias by their big white flowers and seed pods, and maples by their hand-shaped leaves and helicopter seeds.

Once we got to Hartnell College, Liza knew exactly where we going and ran ahead of me, getting to the panther long before I did. She decided that we should ride the panther (who can fly) to Disneyland, where we would attend a Disney character party, in costume. We got into costume, had manicures, and put on make up.

Liza was Ariel, I was Moana’s Grandma, and the panther was Raja, Princess Jasmine’s pet tiger. We flew on the panther to the airport, where we got on separate planes (not sure why). We performed at a ‘show’ by the student union, where we snacked, saw a squirrel, and fed the birds.

Then we headed across Central Avenue to Central Park. Liza loves to climb and do things that scare her a little bit, knowing that most things are only scary at first. She is always careful to pay attention to where she puts her feet.

I hated to see the morning getting away from us, but soon it was time to head back to her house. On the way, we ran into Irene, a dear lady who worked at Beverly’s Fabrics until it closed last year. We had a hug and a chat and went our ways.

After Liza and I played with a picture puzzle that your mommy Katie used to play with, it was time for Liza and her mommy Olga to take me to the bus stop so I could head home. She told me “Spakoini Notchi” and “Paka” which mean ‘good night’ and ‘goodbye’ in Russian. I am glad that since she has gotten back from her trip to Russia to visit her other grandparents, she is speaking a lot more in Russian. That language and culture is a gift from her family and she should treasure it.

After an hour on the bus and two on a plane, I got home to my city and my people. We stopped for dinner at a new place called Perlot, on NW Fremont, which was tasty, delightful, and musical! We had delicious food, good wine, and listened to jazz by local musicians. What a treat!

Love,

Grandma Judy

Three Hundred!!

Dear Liza,

I started writing this blog as a way to stay in touch with you and my friends in Salinas after I moved up to Portland. I thought I would write a little, get bored, and quit….like I usually do.

But Portland is such an interesting place that I keep finding things to write about. Today, as a matter of fact, is my 300th post. Three hundred adventures. Three hundred stories.

Portland is a big city, and has big city problems, like anywhere. The housing costs are high and homeless people struggle to get by. Trash and noise can be a nuisance. And if you are driving, there will eventually be traffic that frustrates you.

But there are also kind people and missions that help the homeless folks. Groups adopt neighborhoods to pick up trash. And transit is good enough that if you don’t want to drive, you don’t have to.

And the benefits of this lovely city are enormous. Art. Music. Parks. Art and music in parks! Food and drink and coffee and pastries.

And the reason I can enjoy all of this is because I am not working. Working, besides being…well, work, takes up an enormous amount of time. Days and days of NOT getting to walk at random and stop when you feel like it. Evenings of being so tired you can’t even think of an adventure.

Being at liberty is such a joy and privilege that sometimes I feel like I’m cheating.

But maybe if I share it with you I can share some of the joy, and feel less selfish.

**You never know who you’ll meet at Lone Fir Cemetery**

Love,

Grandma Judy

Return to the Children’s Museum

Dear Liza,

As I had promised, the cousins and I went back up the hill to Washington Park yesterday to visit the Children’s Museum. Since Grandpa Nelson had to work and I hate driving, we took the number 4 bus and Red Line MAX train to get there.

The Children’s Museum is less of a museum and more of a giant, well designed play environment for kids. There are rooms with set-ups for water play, a farm to table grocery room, a pet hospital, engineering, toy cars, and a theater with costumes, lights and puppets.

Jasper loves the water room and Kestrel, the theater, and the rooms are close enough together that I can sort of wander between them and keep and eye on both kids. Jasper actually came and found us in the theater, making me very proud of his responsibility and navigation skills.

After a few hours inside, we stepped out to the Zany Maze to eat the food I had brought. The Museum sells hot dogs and such, but I preferred a day with healthier snacks. Blueberries (from our Sauvie Island trip) and some of Grandpa Nelson’s peanuts and a big jug of water gave us energy for the afternoon.

Instead of going back inside the Museum, we explored the outside area, which has just been re-opened after a long period of development. It is wonderful!

The Outdoor Adventure, starts with The Spring, which has water play combined with sand, water management, buckets, and activities that encourage teamwork. Jasper and Kestrel played with several other kids, two of whom did not speak English at all, but they all understood and helped each other. It was wonderful to see.

We wandered down the trail past the creek, all the way down to The Amphitheater. There was a young lady helping the kids ‘fish’ in a small pool, and a mom teaching her little one about jumping rope. Jasper joined in and did 11 consecutive jumps! He was justifiably proud.

In our last 20 minutes, as energy was waning, we went back inside to see what The Treehouse Adventure room was. Turns out, it is designed for just the sort of activity we needed, a quiet winding down…. there is a tree house to go into and read, or just sit.

We got some going-home snacks, caught the Red Line train, then the Orange Line train, and were home by 3. We started reading Jeremy Thatcher, Dragon Hatcher by Bruce Coville, and were on chapter 7 by the time Auntie Katie got home. It’s a great read!

Auntie Katie got home and Kestrel wanted some acrobatics time. Mother and daughter did some pretty nifty balance poses! These poses are ab workouts, mother-daughter time, and cooperation training, all at once. Real Ph.D level parenting, if you ask me.

Grandpa Nelson and Auntie Bridgett came a brought me home, and we had dinner. What a lovely day!

Love,

Grandma Judy

Washington Park, Part 1

Dear Liza,

Lately, I have been feeling like my brain is empty. People call it Writer’s Block, but it doesn’t feel blocked, it feels like a big hollow hole where a bunch of happy ideas used to be.

So I decided to go out and fill it up.

I got on the number 15 bus and headed for Washington Park. As the bus was going up the hill on Burnside, though, I pulled the cord to get off. I saw something I’d only read about: It was Fireman’s Park, a monument built in 1911 to honor David Campbell, who was fire chief from 1893 to 1911 and died fighting a fire, running in to a burning building to get his men out safely.

The fountain is under repair, but the bronze plaque is handsome. There are also small plaques recognizing other firemen who have lost their lives on duty, from J. Hewston in 1892 to A. Berg in 1948. Firemen’s Park is on a very noisy bit of land, so I moved along up the hill for some contemplation.

At the base of Washington Park there are several entries. I took the ancient looking stone steps. There were signs, which kept me from wandering too far in the wrong direction, and I eventually found the Japanese Garden. I climbed up the new steps through a forested ravine to the new entrance. At last, the serenity I was searching for!

Well, no. Everyone comes to the Japanese Garden in summer. There were old men with walkers, active grandmas with all the grandkids, and young people walking past 100 year old Bonsais, staring at their phones. Not what I was after.

There was visual serenity once I waited for for groups to pass, but as a teacher, children’s voices cannot be tuned out. I either want to answer their questions, remind them of their manners, or suggest they go play somewhere else, none of which was appropriate. So, noise.

I enjoyed it as best as I could, enjoying a nice quiet lunch at The Umami Cafe in the new Japanese Educational Village and walking through the entire garden again. Better.

I discovered the Robert and Debra Zagunis Castle Wall, built here with Oregon granite by a 15th generation Japanese stone mason. It looked very formidable and gave me a first hand visual of the walls at Osaka Castle, which I have been reading about in Shogun by James Clavell.

But I wasn’t full yet. I walked down the ravine and across the road to the International Rose Test Garden. It built in 1917 to make sure the European rose varieties being decimated by World War I weren’t lost entirely. It is huge, beautiful, and, today, much quieter than the Japanese Garden. I visited here last summer with Cousins Jasper and Kestrel, and it is still wonderful.

I will tell you more about my day tomorrow!

Love,

Grandma Judy

A Song for Fun

Dear Liza,

Your Mommy or Daddy can teach you the tune for this silly re-write. The Song is called “My Favorite Things.”

(Read the captions!)

First Verse:

**Beaches with grandchildren, giggles and tickles**

These are the things Portland’s given to me!

Second Verse:

**Art found on sidewalks and up on a tower**

**Hearing the voices of love’s greatest power**

All of these just since the summer’s begun!

Bridge:

**I’m up to my eyeballs in Portland, my friends,**

Love,

Grandma Judy

Baseball on the Fourth

Dear Liza,

**The First Pitch, Courtesy of Miss Oregon**

For the Fourth of July, Grandpa Nelson, Auntie Bridgett and I went to Lents Park, in the far southeast part of the city, to watch some baseball. Portland doesn’t have any professional teams, so these were teams made up of young men from colleges from all over the west. We watched the Portland Pickles play against the Gresham Grey Wolves.The weather was very warm, with interesting grey clouds.

Lents Park has tennis and basketball courts and baseball and soccer fields. There are a few Little League baseball fields, as well as the main field, which holds 1,500 people. Before the game we got to see the new Miss Oregon throw out the first pitch, and another young lady sing a lovely version of the National Anthem. There was also a goodly amount of country music. It felt a hundred miles away from hipster downtown Portland, instead of only five.

During the game, it was fun watching all the people. The grownups were trying to stay cool and eating every piece of fried food they could lay their hands on. The kids were walking around and around the stadium, eating gallons of snow cones.

The teams played well, and it was interesting to see young men from Hermosa Beach, California (where Grandpa Nelson lived when I met him) playing against kids from Eugene, where I was going to college when your daddy was born. The starting pitcher for the Pickles is a student at Cal State Monterey Bay, right close to you!

Dillon, the dill pickle mascot of the Portland Pickles, came out and visited with the crowd. Kids gave him high fives and he stood for dozens of pictures, though it must have been over a hundred degrees in his heavy costume. If you will excuse the pun, he is a bit of a ham.

Since there was going to be a double header (that means two games in one day) , each one was going to be short, just seven innings instead of nine. That was okay with us, really. The Pickles were not playing well and we lost, 3-1, to the Grey Wolves. It was hot, we were tired, and ready for a lay-down before fireworks this evening.

After we got home and rested, the clouds came in heavier and it actually rained! So much for fireworks! We played Scrabble, which Bridgett won in a landslide, and watch “Yankee Doodle Dandy” with James Cagney.

I hope you and the family had a wonderful Fourth of July!

Love,

Grandma Judy

Passover Easter Moving Craziness

Dear Jasper and Kestrel,After a week of moving box after box of dishes, pots and pans to the new house, some nice strong fellows from West Coast Piano Movers came and carried our heaviest and oldest belonging down eight steps, into their truck, then up two flights of stairs to our new living room. They were very good sports about it, but man, is that thing heavy! It was a wedding present to Grandpa Nelson and me forty four years ago and has been following us around ever since. It was nice to sit down and bang out some Carole King in the new place.

On Saturday, our newly ordered dishes came in, but were not nearly the quality we wanted and one even had a chip. So a trip to the most depressing mall in Portland, called Mall 205, was in order to return them without paying a shipping fee. Finding nothing even close to what we wanted, we found ourselves on a wild goose chase to the Washington Square Mall in the south west. Washington Square is all posh, all glitz. There is a Tesla dealership with cars gleaming like jewelry. There are Williams Sonoma, Macy’s, AND Pottery Barn. There are at least two stores that just sell make up. It was retail overload.

And because it was nearly noon and I was hungry, I freaked out a bit. I have only had a few anxiety attacks in my life, but malls are a definite trigger. Grandpa Nelson and Auntie Bridgett knew I needed to eat, so we went to the nearest restaurant, the Cheesecake Factory. In my hungry, panicky state it looked like Cesar’s Palace, a den of noisy overindulgence. But there was food and water and I felt better. We went back to Willams Sonoma, picked up the dishes, and headed home. Exhausted but victorious, we had a well deserved sit down. The object of our quest

Of course, this was also Easter and Passover weekend. We celebrated Passover Saturday night with leftovers from the Cheesecake Factory and a bottle of Don Chapin’s wine that we have been holding onto. Grandpa Nelson had his first taste of matzoh for the year and a blissful look settled into his face. We lit a mismatched pair of candles and blessed everything in sight.

And Sunday was Easter! I woke up early, cleared packing stuff off the table, and snipped some camellias from the bush outside. Auntie Bridgett, who usually does such a lovely job decorating, was not able to this year, but that’s no reason it shouldn’t be pretty. After a nice morning spent feeling blessed and happy, Auntie Bridgett listened to a live streaming of the church service from Twin Lakes Church in Aptos instead of going to a new church here. She will find a local church, I am sure…but not right now.

And of course, the flamingos celebrated in their yard. I head back to Salinas today and will miss Portland until June. See you then, kidlets.

Love,

Grandma Judy

To the Coast …and back again!

Dear Jasper and Kestrel,

As you can see, I am posting even without my big computer! Clever Auntie Bridgett taught me how to upload photos with my iPad! What would I do without my wonderful people?

After sightseeing to the north of Tillamook on Saturday, on Sunday we headed south! First we all had breakfast in our tiny house at Sheltered Nook, took Bridgett to the “Ice Hangar” at the Tillamook Air Museum, and headed towards Lincoln City.

The day was much sunnier than the day before, but still cold enough that we needed coats and hats. The views from the cliffs were spectacular, and it seemed we were living inside every postcard of the Oregon Coast. Since highway 101 also runs a bit inland, we got to see the forest as it was waking up from winter. Huge meadows had become daffodil farms and were blooming in yellow and white stripes. Bare birch trees arching over the road promised a green tunnel when they leaf of in a week or so.

food today was a mixed bag. The pastries at My Petite Sweet in Lincoln City were wonderful, but at The Dory, just north of town, we got burnt, limp french fries and and over-sized, over dressed “chicken wrap” that was almost inedible.

When it was time to leave to ocean, we stood for a while and just stared. The lacy skirts of the Pacific Ocean ruffled along the beaches, as though the grand lady Pacifica were gently perched on the Hawaiian Islands, her majestic blue skirts flowing around her.

Back in Tillamook, Nelson decided he wanted some decent food. We stopped at the Dutch Mill Diner, which was a 50’s style diner in all the best ways. The black and white checkered floor tiles and red leather bar stools were visually satisfying. The music of my childhood sang out about how hard it was to be a teenager in love. And the whole place was run by extended family members. Youngest cousin Elijah made the wonderful milkshakes and his mentor cousin, whose name I didn’t catch, was our waitress. It was a delightful stop before we went to fetch Bridgett from the Comic Con and head back to Portland.

Back at our rental home, we had a simple dinner (I got to cook!) and slept. Tomorrow we work!!

And we did. We started pulling kitchen stuff from the many unpacked boxes so I could set up the kitchen like I want it before I head back to Salinas. It is a smaller kitchen so we are needing to be more selective. I think maybe our fourth and fifth cutting boards and five pounds of plastic containers may have to go by the wayside….but it is a small price to pay for such a nice place IN such a nice place. We made a lot of trips up and down all. Those. Stairs.

After dinner, we realized we were done for the day. We left boxes half packed and got into pajamas, and watched a documentary on people who raise chickens for shows. These were delightfully odd folks who dedicate their lives to breeding, raising, endlessly washing and showing their fancy breed chickens, such as silver lace Wyandottes and feather-leg Brahmas.

A wonderfully irrelevant way to drift off to sleep.

Love,

Grandma Judy