Late June Portland/Portage Report

Last week I fell in love with a new place (or fell in love anew with an old place), which is Portland, OR. And in May, I learned a new word, which is “portage,” which is to carry a boat (in this case, canoe) across land for a bit. Both are fun, one is muddy, and the other is actual the subject of this post.

S & I traveled to the Pacific Northwest because I dig it and she suspected she might. She did, I did, we did, and it was good. Bookended by a friendly airport (I love Milwaukee’s post-security “Recombobulation Area”), the following experiences brought particular joy last week:

Hostelling. We stayed at Seattle’s Green Tortoise Hostel, which is literally a block from Pike’s Market. There’s nothing cooler than a communal morning kitchen full of eggs, pancake batter, and sizzling cast iron, especially watching how different nationalities use the same simple ingredients. (Our Taiwanese roommates: “What do you call this that you are making?” “Pancakes.” “Ohhh… they are delicious!”)

Underground. Historic Seattle had an epic battle with waste disposal followed by an almost comedically unfortunate downtown fire. The whole city was rebuilt 12 feet higher, but the underground sidewalks and original 1st floors (now basements) are open for tours. Dark, dusty, fascinating, awesome tours.

Low tide. Summer solstice means lowest tide of the year, so we met up with Charlie and his girlfriend Heather to explore what’s normally underwater. Heather grew up in the area and pointed out so many cool things: jellyfish, barnacles, crabs, starfish, crazy bulbed kelp, squirting geoduck clams, and even salmon berries. It was the perfect combination of nature and people–and wonderful people, to boot.

—— (Amtrak to Portland. Choo choo!) ——

Food, Inc., etc. Our introduction to Portland was a kickass, healthy, tasty dinner followed by a viewing of Food, Inc. Nothing in the film surprised either of us, and considering everyone always assumes we are anyway, we decided it was time to actually become vegetarians. It’s official. Other food highlights included Ginny’s cooking (see below), fresh cherries, a delightful breakfast at St. Honore Boulangerie, the Portland Farmers’ Market, and the North American Organic Brewer’s Festival. Three cheers for organic brewskies!

Ginny and chickens. My close friend from high school introduced us to her lovely world of fresh food and fine company. First grilling and singing in a backyard shared with chickens, a greenhouse, garden beds, and a bee hut. Later playing Settlers of Catan with more wonderful people. Both evenings were dressed generously with wine, smiles, and good vibes. Probably my favorite part. I wish I had pictures.

Flowers. Portland is the home of the International Rose Test Garden. There are hundreds of varieties in one beautiful garden. Not much I can say: it was just really, really pretty.

Strangers! After the ubiquity of recycling containers, my final and possibly favorite thing about Portland is the openness and friendliness between strangers. People just make conversation. They comment on whatever is happening, or tell you they like your scarf. If they ask you to sign a petition and learn you’re not local, they say “Cool! Where are you from? Are you having a good time?” Our whole visit was a process of relaxing and learning to let our guard down. It just felt good.

In conclusion, here is a nice picture of Shannon at the Portland Farmers’ Market.

Slow Curveball; Self-Spring Cleaning

"Out out damn spot" by Sidewalk Story

It’s spring! What a good time to change direction. After an excessive 3-month courting process, Other Candidate beat me in a photo-finish for a really hip job with Serious Potential Employer.

The surprising part? I’m actually feeling pretty good about it. Yes, it would have been right up my alley, and yes, I need a change.

But the advantage here is that I don’t get to rely on a new job to make that change happen. I’ve got to do it myself.

So spring cleaning it is! I’m getting more organized, more active, more joggaliscious, and more assertive. I’m making freelancing a real destination (instead of waiting for something else) and spending more time creating. I want to blog more seriously, and use blogging to really connect with new people. (If this is you, say hi!) And superficial though they be, I think a new haircut and glasses are in order as well.

There’s no one right way to go about changing ourselves, and I suspect that different things feel best for different people. I wonder if self-spring cleaning is as diverse as the folks who do it. I suspect so.

Aunt Jo & Abundance

This weekend, my grandpa’s sister Jo passed away. To anyone who knew her, it’s no surprise that she’s been traveling the country and world as usual, and keeping quiet about her health. I’ve always felt a strong bond with Jo, and Charlie and I have been told that we were sort of like grandchildren to her. She gave me a miniature Shakespeare collection and a necklace that had been, I think, her mother’s. I wish I’d gotten out to Phoenix to visit; it’s been nearly 2 years since I’ve seen her.

Strangely, I’ve been thinking of Grandpa a lot this past week. His presence has been fresh on my mind, particularly in the evenings. Take meaning from that as you will. And while I’m not big on church, his memory always brings back the verse the pastor used at his memorial service:

I came that they might have life, and have it abundantly.

(John 10:10)

Incredibly fitting, and I think that Jo’s life was as abundant in her own way as Grandpa’s was in his. I’m saddened by her death, but these two are both a reminder to not let life pass by untasted. If some people have a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other, I would like Jo and Abe, sipping coctails and whispering “Do it! Are you crazy? Get out there!”

And Not All Nuclear Families Are Happy

"Family Portrait" by Athena1970

This morning, my friend George sent me to an intriguing (and hope-instilling) book review over at In These Times. Take a big breath for this title:

One Big Happy Family: 18 Writers Talk About Polyamory, Open Adoption, Mixed Marriage, Househusbandry, Single Motherhood, and Other Realities of Truly Modern Love

Intrigue: Editor Rebecca Walker (daughter of the much-beloved Alice Walker) addresses class, race, gender, monogamy– many of our social building blocks for what a family is “supposed” to be. I don’t believe she’s being voyeuristic here. ITT titles their review “Not All Happy Families Are Nuclear,” quoting Walker:

“I was looking for stability, complexity, longevity and overall happiness. When I saw those four elements in a family, no matter what it looked like, I paid closer attention.”

I was raised in a family that is traditional almost to the point of cliche (white, small town, parents still together, 1 girl/1 boy, active in church, the works), but I believe that people relate to one another in far more complex ways than our culture and language leave room for. I’m intrigued by the sincerity of this collection, and I look forward to the stories of people brave enough to let their lives unfold in the ways that are often misunderstood.

Hope: I hope that as these stories are told, our narrow lenses start to widen. When I came out to my mom a few years ago, she was largely supportive, but “had hoped to be a grandmother.” That a same-sex couple could provide a healthy environment for children is the one concession she wouldn’t grant me.

Of course, for most people, a nuclear family with a heterosexual couple at its center is what makes the most sense (whether by nature or by long-ingrained social construct…that’s another discussion). But who are we to define the needs of others? I believe we should judge a family tree by its leaves’ health, not its branches’ shape, and I find hope in Walker’s goal to share stories of “Truly Modern Love.”