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Anniversary in Portland



This weekend Rod and I took time to celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary (without breaking the bank nor taking time off from work). Though we both would've liked to left for far flung places on Friday night, we opted to take the evening easy and leave at first light for our overnight in Portland.

After searching online for days, I found a delightful Victorian Bed and Breakfast called The Lion and The Rose located in the historic neighborhood of Irvington, near the Rose Quarter. It was a good choice and turned out to be the time of year to get a great deal. Since we knew we wanted to bop around eating at local places we opted out of the breakfast portion (though we suspected it would have been wonderful to eat among those wonderful antiques in that opulent diningroom). This decision made our room cost a mere $99 for the night and our room, the Garden Room, was so cheerful, light, and warm that it felt special for having made it as a married couple for the past 10 years.

After dropping our bags at the B&B, we set off to discover Voodoo Donuts and the Saturday Market on the waterfront near the Burnside Bridge. The sad part of Portland is the pitiful homeless/panhandling problem. There's nothing like feeling guilty for standing in line outside of a bizarre donut shop while having to listen to a sob story that is obviously a ruse to gain some of your hard-earned cash. (I say this is an obvious ruse b/c on the heels of this guy's sob story he starts bantering with a passing buddy and contradicts his claims made minutes before.) Rod donated despite the signs that warn against encouraging this behavior. It's probably our first and last visit to this unique establishment despite my draw to the queer and unusual. The Saturday Market featured many local artisans plying their wares and I could have spent more time gridding through and enjoying myself but Rod's light jacket wasn't adequate to keep him warm while walking at my pace. We passed through, garnering a little flavor, and moved on to begin exploring the city. We opted to drive our car to our varied destinations around downtown, paying for parking which turned out to be a pretty good idea. We were able to warm-up and duck the intermittent rain showers, emerging from the car or basking within it when the sun came back out.

To my surprise, Rod took up a mission to take me to yarn stores located about the city. When he suggested stopping at a few the night before, I thought he was humoring me but played along, writing down some store addresses and phone numbers. It turned out that he gladly drove me from shop to shop and patiently waited while I drank in the color and textures of fiber in an unfamiliar city. It felt like my very own "Yarn Tour" and indeed, I found out about the Portland Yarn Crawl, which I had missed a mere month before. Touring yarn shops led us around the city and gave us closer views of the Pearl District, the Alphabet District, Knob Hill, the Alberta Arts area, and the bohemian Hawthorne area.
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