A Date with the Rayman

Hello from the Pacific Northwest, and specifically Portland, OR.  We arrived here on a beautiful May Day and are now starting to get our bearings.  

Dicey is the word that you might find in Wordle and definitely the word you would use for the weather here.  The old adage, don’t like the weather, wait 15 minutes is totally apropos for this city.  And that iw the type of day it is today.  Winter and spring alternating about every 15 minutes.

We had a date today.  Freda and Diego were featured in a wonderful exhibition at the Portland (PDX) Art Museum.  They did not disappoint.  A very colorful show that rings true today as they were very much political animals and supported laborers, craftspersons, and the dispossessed. 




Here are a few original paintings of the two.  And lots of people in attendance so that we remained masked.  It was about a 60-40 split, mask v bare-faced.


Freda with monkeys.

Diego’s cacti

A few notes.  Loved the monkey picture.  They had monkeys in their home in Mexico City.  That home is now a Museum.  I want to go there.  Secondly, the anti is so interesting.  Male and female?  inquiring minds want to know.  Her self portrait with a picture of Diego between her eyes is weird but beautifully painted.  She shunned the idea that she was a surrealist.


But on to the rest of the story.

After the exhibit, we looked for a place to eat and decided on a food truck restaurant that Kirsten, Sue’s youngest, recommended.  As we were leaving the city proper, we espied Powells Books and Rayman wanted to stop in for a new book.  Parking was a mess, it was cold and sprinkling off and on.  So, in all my brilliance, I pulled over by the front door, suggested he get out and look for a book while I looked for a parking place.  As I pulled away, the car started beeping.  Why?, I wondered.  Then the phone rang.  Rayman had the key.  So, I circled round and he gave me the key.  They I was off again in search of a parking spot.  

PDX is a city under construction.  Collapsing lanes, no left turn signs, one way streets, streetcars to dodge.  All this added up to me getting lost.  This then afforded me to experiment with the voice button that I pressed, spitted “Powell”s Books into the microphone, wherever it was, and waited for directions.  While it is not hard, it isn’t easy and add that to the fact that I am completely unfamiliar with downtown, I was a sight to behold.  The phone rang.  It was Rayman wondering where I was.  He had purchased a book on Greek Mythology and was standing out where I left him.

Okay, but I was still lost, explained myself and told him I’d be right there reasoning that PDX is a small city.  Then I resumed practicing talking to the GPS which got me to the opposite side of Powell’s which was the wrong corner.  The bookstore is a city block, I think.  I called Rayman.  By this time, the sun had gone behind the looming, dark clouds, and it was starting to hail.  He was dressed for light rain, not hail and he told me that he was freezing and would I please come.  I may have turned left and then left again and there he was, my drowned rat.  No parking so I drove up the street as he broke into full run, for an old guy, quite surprising really.  He jumped in the car, flipped on the heated seat and I asked him what book he bought.  “OMG, I don’t have it.” 

Literally that was true.  It was not on his person as he had tossed it on the dash directly in front of himself.  With that then discovered, we caught the freeway and proceeded to lunch.  

PDX restaurants are open but most do take-out only.  So, I remembered that Kristen told me about a food court, PDX style…by which I mean food trucks in a courtyard configuration.  And that is where we headed.  Seating was in the middle.  The hail and the rain had stopped, Rayman’s derrière was mostly warm, the tables were covered by a roof, and there were heating devices hanging from the roof.  And that is where we had a wonderful lunch at a place called, oh, I don’t remember.  I took a picture though.  It was a fancy egg sandwich, perfectly perfect.

Rayman at the food court.

My sandwich half eaten. Yes, I finished it and washed it down with apple juice.


So, that was our date.  Now we’re are back home in our sweats, watching the weather from inside.  It is still changing every 15 minutes.  And Beau is thrilled we returned.


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