Chronicles Continued

To you and yours.  May 2014 be a new beginning in so many ways, all unexpected.

Love and Hugs.  M

Movie matinee! [Is a Tall Man Happy?]  In a theatre with loges, foot stools and coffee and or food delivered to your reserved seat number.  And cost of parking for hours of being downtown? $5!  The magic number in this city apparently. [Incidentally the cost of a used book at Powell’s across the street!]

Attended the movie Mandela, a Long Walk to Freedom.  It was as if I was in a large living room.  The out-loud comments during the film presentation and general public noise was irritating and eyeopening.  In the other City the public is asked not to talk.  Perhaps that could be instituted here?

Just look at that sky.  Now I realize why I liked Holland’s skies.  The Oregon one’s are every bit as stunning.

The Santa sleigh is being drawn by a bicycle.  My first thought was,  PETA.  A house that is protesting the use of animals to fly through the air.  This is Oregon after all.  Convinced I was correct, until I mentioned it to an Oregonian who informed me that it was about being an Oregonian and using the bicycle as a mode of transport, being preferable.

To facilitate my time here, I shipped to Portland, a car that I purchased in Virginia and when I moved to the City,  left garaged in Virginia.   It has Virginia plates. The pleasure of driving it in the surrounding hills, rain, fog or shine has been such an added thrill.  I have yet to set foot in public transportation.  Imagine that.  More than a month in a car, and not once in a bus, tram or train.  When the car sells that might come to a screeching halt, but in the meantime, such a treat!

It is any city, anywhere.  The directional signs are placed by a crew that lives in the city, on instruction by other folks who know the city well.  None of that helps a stranger, at all.  Yesterday, after a wonderful dinner, far out Burnside, I dropped down Burnside below 21st and began looking for signs to 405-S which would take lead to I-5 S.  There are no signs, at least not obvious enough to be seen in the fog.  When I did spot a sign it said 405.  Well, that could indicate a north-south split just farther along, around the bend… Of course not!  So I ended up crossing one bridge. skirting through a hospital parking lot, driving down a LOT of fog shrouded, deserted back streets, until I saw a sign for another! bridge, which I then took and crossed – back over the same river.  Again come to the Burnside as a cross street, but at a much lower number.  No signs left or right.  If I had not had some knowledge of this city, and known where vaguely there had to be an on ramp… well, I would still be driving!  And this happens in every city, on every continent on which I have ever been!

Or Merry Christmas, or… whatever it is that you and yours celebrate today.  May there be peace, happiness and goodwill toward your fellow person!

 

The first time, in the night, I looked out my window and there were stars.  The big dipper was behind the fur tree pictured earlier, and I was wishing it would look like candle flames on the tree branches.  It ended up being only a thought.  And then the stars lasted until the fog rolled in.  Becoming a bit of a status quo.