Travels with The Rayman

We’re crusing now at 39,000 feet on a flight from Portland to Denver then on to Kansas City, MO.  This trip has been in the works forever.  Covid interrupted our life and with that our travels, like everyone else.  No woe is me here.

 

We are masked and staying as safe as we can.  Grabbed the bulkhead seat for legroom and I now have to balance my computer on my knees to type.  Huge thunderheads have appeared in my window and they are beautiful to behold, like gauze or  ootton clumped together.  They are a stark reminder of nature’s wonders and dangers as they surely could hold strikes of lightening in their bosoms.  

Enough.  The stage is set.  But it wasn’t easy.  Mr. Rayman was nervous as a whore in church from the time we jumped out of Sue’s Subaru until he flung himself down in his blue Southwest Airline seat.  But we were lucky.  In going thru our paces of checking in, I grabbed the first ticket out of the kiosk machine, and attached the baggage tag to  our suitcase.  I then grabbed the boarding pass from the machine.  As we approached the check in desk, Rayman espied our passes on the side of the kiosk.  Yikes.  Not realizing that I as going to receive 6 or 8 pieces of paper, I grabbed the first one and moved on.  We were extremely lucky to find them. 

When it comes to navigating airports, I find myself in charge of navigational duties.  I find the gate, I locate the bathrooms (a long line for women this a.m. ).  I steer us to the line we must stand in to board.  Once on board, Rayman relaxes and life resumes as normal.  

The Captain just announced that we are flying over Boise.  Glad to know because as far as I know, we could be flying to Hawaii.  No control.  In their hands!!  And there is a thick cloud layer.

Beau is on the ground in Vancouver.  Ryan and Tam are taking him in.  We miss him already,  Such a sweet boy.  He’ll have a dilly of a time with Izzy and Themza chasing him around the huge yard.  

Tomorrow, we will go to Independence, MO to visit the MidWest Genealogy library. I hope to do some sleuthing in the archives in search of my Great Great Grandfather on my Mom’s side of the family.  My Grandmother never knew her dad.  Her mother knew, obviously, and reported his name to be Sherman Nobles of K.C., MO.  The closest person I have found thanks to my fabulous friend, Dorothy, is Sherman Noggle.  Hoping this will lead somewhere.  So far, it’s leading me to Missouri!

This is all because of my book I have written.  Writing is so wonderful.  It points me in many directions which is a hoot.  After we visit the library, we will drive down to Branson, MO to visit our good friends, Nancy and Bob.  They are so kind to let us stay with them.  Nancy is editing my book, so I arranged for two copies of the book to printed out at the UPS store in Independence, MO, thereby, alleviating me of schlepping the copies from Oregon.  While digital things can drive me to drink, it is also miraculous if you consider it technologically.  I don’t like dlgital clocks.  I abhor digital ovens that require you to hit the start button which is very easy to forget.  But, I do like being able to transmit my tome and pick it up miles from home!

So, that is it for now.  Think I’ll look at the news and brace myself for the car rental experience which is scheduled upon our arrival in Kansas City, MO.  No, wait.  Got to get from point A to point B in Denver, gate-wise.  That’s the next hurdle.  

 

We managed to get to the next gate, onto the next plane, and arrived safely in K.C.  Then it was on to picking up the It was  expensive.  One week economy car ran $680.  We used points and still got nicked $189.  The Avis counter required a ride in a shuttle.  In an act of desperation, we parted.  I went to the Avis counter, Rayman went to baggage claim.  Miraculously he found me.

We then put on lives in the hands of our GPS app, and off we went.  KC airport is a bit of a relic.  They are building a new one, I heard.  There are a lot of roads under repair.  Detours were, seemingly, everywhere.  Somehow we made it to the Truitt.  Here is a picture on the right.  The first pic was taken where we dined at 9:30 p.m..  The picture of the bar was taken in the French Bistro where we dined.  The pic of me was snapped in the conservatory of the Truitt.  We highly recommend the place if you are ever in KC.  And there is parking in the back, unknown to us as we schlepped our suitcase across the street and up the stairs.

 

Oh, well.  We got there safe and sound!!

 

 

 

How many blogs have I authored?  It feels like thousands at this point.  Not even 500, truth be told.  So why the heck can’t I get my pictures where I want them on my posts?  I fear an update.  Oh, lord.

So rather than publish without pictures, I will stop trying to figure it out and just write.  Much more satisfying.

Today was a grand Mal day.  We miraculously set our iPhone alarm clock correctly and it woke us at 5:30.  We hit the trail a bit after 6 a.m.  Way early for this kid.  But we wanted to get into Yosemite before all the maddening crowd.  The gates open at 6 a.m. so that is what we were hoping for but, we didn’t miss it by much.  No cars, no traffic at the gate.

We then took the northern route locally referred to as Tuolumee Meadows.  What a fabulous drive.  Here are some of the pictures, with explanations.  

The backside of Half Dome.   Below is a lake pretending to be a mirror.

 

 

 

 

 

 

This sequence shows a small deer peering up at me as I snap the shot.  The other picture shows the hind legs of another deer.  Look closely for the legs behind the big rock.  That deer never moved a muscle while hiding.  So sweet, really.

 

 

 

 

Note:  I posted a video on FB if you want a ride down the hill!

We exited the park on the east at Lee Vining, CA.  Not too far from NV.  Mono Lake is there.  We attempted to get into the Visitor’s Center, but it was closed.  Had to relieve ourselves in the bushes.  Ran.

We came upon hurdles but I’m not going to spoil my high with faux pas tonight.  Just not going to do it.  Don’t worry, dear reader, there will be plenty of faux pas to report on in the future!!

So, the ride is like trees, trees, trees interrupted by mountains of granite, scrubbed by wind, rain, sleet and snow.  The beauty of the place just overwhelms your senses.  This grandeur of monster mountains, green meadows full of life, …where the mountains are hard as…I was going to say rock but that would be too too.  

Then the brooks, the streams, the river too low of water, the lakes, the reflections on the lakes…it is just too much to believe.  We are so blessed to have these natural wonders in our state, our nation, our planet.  

The flip side is all the burnt trees we had to look at in a cocktail of sadness and fear.  Our planet is crying out for help and human beings in power around the world are not coming to her aid.  George Carlin put it another way, “The planet is fine.  The people are fucked,”    He argued that the planet will repair itself after it has rid it of us.  After all, that has happened before.  

Traveling is both wonderful and a pain.  There is nothing easy about it.  It opens new vistas and ideas and thinking as you muddle about trying to get about.  And it is made more difficult with a doggie.  Just making the reservations and then keeping track of them is a challenge.  I try to keep them digitally, but I almost always make a copy…it is as if I don’t trust digital.  Seems reasonable to me.

Finding food is easier than it was when you had to keep or catch your supper but on the road, finding a place to eat outside with our Beau is not without its challenges as well.  One place flat out turned us away today.  Luckily our second try netted a table outside with shade and a breeze.  As luck would have it, a hiker sat down at the next table and we struck up a conversation.  He had been hiking the Pacific Coast Trail since mid-Apr but he had to stop today because his fibia or was it tibia? was broken not from a fall, just hiking…  He lived in VA so it will take him a time to get home.  He was not a young man.  Quite interesting

It is time to retire for the day so I will continue this when I figure out my app issues.  

Your Intrepid Reporter,  Dianna

Hi again.  I’m back.

Carson City was where we decamped on our second night.  Our Home or My Home…a new hotel chain that I give 3 stars.  It was clean, modern, but it sat between a major artery, a freeway, an off ramp so opening a window was a fool’s errand.  A stuffy room was the result but we made the best of it and checked out after a delicious bowl of Crunchy Raisin Bran that came prepackaged in a bowl.  It was too sweet, but we paid, didn’t we?  

The other thing worth noting was that we arrived at 1:30 and they offered to let us check in early for $50.  AYKM?  That resulted in us killing time by getting the car washed, and finding the restaurant for late lunch/early dinner.  We also wandered into the Sportsman store where I observed a lifetimes worth of camo jackets, pants, underwear, hats, gloves, boots.  If you need to blend into the woods, this is the store for you.  And, there was a gun department with several men waiting on several patrons.  I wanted to throw up but decided, no I did not.  Instead I engaged with the man that was helping us find dog booties so Beau’s paws could be protected while he gingerly pranced over hot parking lots sans trees/shade or cook an egg on the sidewalk hot sidewalks.  The guy was from Iowa temporarily because he was helping his mom post surgery.  I expressed sympathy that he lived in Iowa.  He corrected my poor thinking by saying he loved Iowa.  “But, they are so hostile to women”, I offered.  He said he understood but he didn’t approve of abortion and that is where we left it.  Those guns give me pause.

Moving right along.  Some pictures.

Our drive consisted of driving to  Burns, OR.  Burns is in the high desert and we have never been there before.  Ryan suggested we stay two night because of geology so we made a reservation at a Day’s Inn which was one of three places that allowed pets.  So that is where we were heading

Along the way we got hungry and so we stopped at a restaurant in Alturus that was featured in an article in the L.A. Times that I read in December.  An Italian joint.  When I went inside to order, there wasn’t a soul there.  Then a woman emerged and I ordered spaghetti after I discovered we could eat outside on the sidewalk.  As it turned out, it is hard to eat slippery spaghetti with a plastic fork.  Noodles just slip off like rain on a window.  Key learning, there.

After our lunch sans wine because they couldn’t serve us wine outside, a local rule, I suspect, we got back in the car and continued north.  The landscape was amazing and we were one of four cars on the road.  Two lanes, no traffic, hardly a car or truck at all.  It was nirvana.  And we had the January 6 affair to listen to on the radio.  The miles went by quickly doing 55 MPH.  

OMG.  The Jan 6 hearing was jaw dropping and I was so happy to hear a young woman testify.  What a patriot.  Wouldn’t it be ironic if it was women that saved the Republic?  Between Cassidy and Cheney, the ingredients are certainly there.  They are making the apologists for Trump look like fools…either that or fooled by the grifter that reminds me as more or a Mob leader in more ways than one.

When we arrived in Burns, we were given a smoking room.  I was adamant.  “I’’m not staying in this room”,  I told the kid behind the desk.  It reeks of smoke.  Do you have a non-smoking room”?  

Upon learning it was their only room left, we left.  The room had a sagging bed with an old Sears and Roebuck flowered bedspread, a wall air-condition that looked ominous, like a good example of a Legionnaires disease spreader.  God, it was horrible.  There might have been another room but the hotel was going thru a renovation and half the place was uninhabitable.  

Where did we go?  Dead tired after 6 hours on the road, we went west to Bend.  There was no place to stay that was any better than Day’s Inn in Burns that would take Beau.  

About 8:30 we arrived at La Quinta in Bend, we lugged our stuff up stairs to find our room.  Rayman walked the dog, I ordered tacos from GrubHub, and when it arrived, Rayman ate at the desk in the room while I sat on the bed and used the night stand as my table.  Flushing down the mediocre taco with gulps of beer, we finished eating, got ready for bed, and called it a day.  It was 10:30.

This brings us to yesterday.  With a three hour trip in front of us, we took our time leaving and arrived back at the SHIP in Portland in early afternoon.  In one pieceand very excited that we had such a beautiful trip.  The scenery was out of this world, we only got angry once or twice, and we toodled all the way to Portland.  Very successful trip.   

Pictures being worth 1,000 words or 10,000 words won’t cut it tonight.  I only have two pictures that I took today.

Our trip today took us from the shores of Morro Bay to the mountains of the Sierra Nevadas, sort of.  Having just checked into Buck’s Lodge, we are adjusting to a $250 bill for a room that has one dinky window, space just enough to fit a queen bed with all the comforts of say, a 2 star hotel.  However, having said that, we are 17 miles from the entrance to Yosemite…proving once again that it’s all about location, location, location.  

The room faces a gas station that is no longer in service but it does provide shade for two dilapidated old trucks that are parked under the overhang.  Our front door looks out on the road which is just one step our of doo…so close to being mowed down, it brings to mind our drive today.

We took highway 41 to Atascadero, 101 to 46 east at Paso, turning left at 41 to continue driving on 41 to Fresno.  Then it got really interesting.  We took back roads and ended up on  a road we weren’t sure went anywhere.  But out we popped and hit 120, newly paved and a pleasure to drive in the 100 degree heat that enveloped all of San Joaquin Valley.  Hot, hot, hot.  

And this is why I pulled off to take my picture seen below.  Those poor cows.  Over 100, no trees for shade, no water trough in sight.  We then passed a big ranch with a splendid gate that announced “Dry Creek Ranch” which had a big American flag flying to announce support for the GOP, I’m sure.  They seem to have claimed the flag as their own while the old chap-wearing, spur- adorned farmers do all they can to dismantle democracy in these parts.  If I looked up their Representative, I would be shocked to find a Democrat.  No, these guys like the GOP because they think the GOP will build dams everywhere to capture the water that never arrives.  We passed the San Pedro dam and it looked way low.  We are always mystified when we see these signs.  A dam isn’t going to a damn for them.  Perhaps they should have a better slogan…”We are sure that God will provide so please build dams”.  While they slam electric vehicles and solar power, they erect silly signs like it is going to make the difference.  So silly, are these folks.

Rant over.  

So, 120 going east is a huge climb.  Hairpin curves, no guardrails.  We could have performed a Thelma and Louise to great affect but thought better of it as it might have started a fire.  Things are dry as a bone.    

Yosemite this year requires a pass to drive into the park and passes are designed to limit the amount of cars in the park.  What a fabulous idea.  You can get a pass 1 week in advance.  I think the limit is 70 so we were lucky to score.  I’m talking about cars here, not age.  It is all done on the computer so if you can’t connect to the internet, you may be screwed.  This would impact people of modest means the most, of course.

We plan to traverse Tuolomme Meadows and fall out of the park on the East side via the Tiago Pass road which leads down to highway 395.  Only done it once before when I was way young, so really looking forward the the ride.  Think we will be on the outside, so other opportunities for ending it all will present themselves but we’re not ready to go yet!

Beau is laying between us as I type and Rayman relaxes on his iPad with his solitaire game.  He was neither seen nor heard as he traveled on the floor in the backseat.  Such a good boy.  We must leash him up so he doesn’t bolt from the door and get squished by the cars that drive by our room to get the other rooms in the back of this building.  What a hoot.

The road thru the Meadow is under construction.  Did I mention that?  Yes.  Delays are expected.  To avoid as much of that as possible, we plan to be at the gate around opening time which is 6 a.m. in the morning.  We may traverse some gravel too.  Glad we aren’t wanting to go to the valley floor in order to drive up to the Glacier Point.  Glacier Point road is completely closed for the season for much needed repairs.  That road offers one of the most breathtaking views on the globe.  

Rayman is out walking Beau and I‘m going to conclude this travel log to hoof it over to Buck’s Cafe and Saloon…  It might be a wild time in the saloon tonight.  

Here is Rayman with a view of the saloon.  It was surprising good.  Avocado toast and tomato basil soup was dinner.  Yummy.  Actually was the best meal of the whole trip.  I know this because we made it back to PDX and that is another Installment.

 

I’m having quite a time with this software.  Glad you can’t hear me!!

is 

As we are in Chico, I am writing from Chico.  Arrived a bit ago after a drive from Roseburg to here.  Yesterday we traveled from PDX to Roseburg, Oregon.  It was a rainy trip for most of the time.  It has been reported that June is the wettest in recorded history…quite possibly dating back to Jesus Christ.

Yesterday’s trip was perfect.  We did not hurry, and everything went like clockwork.  For instance, we arrived in Roseburg at check in time and I tootled into the lobby and announced our arrival. 

“Name please”?

“Dianna Jackson.”

As he grabbed an envelop, he said, “Barbara Jackson”.

 “Nope.  Dianna”.

“We don’t have you on our list, he explained..”

“Oh, I have the reservation confirmation.  QR842b67Y5062VX233.

“That is not our confirmation number.  Ours all start with G,,,,,There is another Riverview Hotel right next door.  You might try them.”

Not to belabor the point, but I reserved in THAT place next door, the Riverview Hotel.  Leaving with my tail between my legs, I almost tripped.  Good thing I didn’t.  The hotel next door was our venue for the night.  It had paint trucks in the parking lot, painters painting here and there, and it was raining lightly.  

As luck would usually not have it, we got the best room in the place.  On the end, ground floor, with a balcony as there was a basement ground floor beneath us.  Ah, serendipity.  Sweet serendipity.  The place had seen it’s better days but we oddly liked it because the bathroom had a window.  And the most fabulous part of this unit, was the bottle opener that sat below the lock on the bathroom door (inside) so that if someone was entertaining, it would not go missing.  Nailed to the door, and repainted close to over 50 times.  Oh, and the stand up shower instead of bathtub with shower combo which is an overused application, IMHO.   It probably would be not hard to break a hand by hitting the wall while shampooing.  I’ve seen smaller in Europe, but this a close rival.  And it was cheaper since it probably fell into the 2 star range.  

Checking on Trip Advisor I located a dinner house.  Since it was 58 degrees and sprinkling from a variegated cloud formation, we took Beau so he could be in the car while we ate.  We arrived as they opened, at 4:30 p.m. after stalking the place by driving around the block regarding the “historic district” that had many store fronts shuttered.  The Republicans must be big in these parts.  And they must have big bucks for that prime location. Check out this picture.

 

And because we were the early birds, our drinks and food came expediciously.  The playlist was great so we did some chair dancing until others arrived and invaded our space in the main dining room.  The food was great, the martini we split was super cold, the olives extra big.  We split pork, polenta, roasted Brussels and crispy onions slices on top,  drowning  in a cream sauce that included pickled jalapeño.   Bonding with the server was easy.  We think she liked us.  

After dinner, we went back to the hotel to watch TV.  Problem is… the TV didn’t have our channel.  Then the phone rang.  My phone announced a call from Costco.  Costco?  With fear and trepidation, fearing it was a ruse, I answered the phone.  It was an employee from Costco who knew the maitre’d of the restaurant we had just left.. Brad was his name.  He called her because he found my purse draped across the back of my chair like a coat on a coat rack.  In my purse, he found my Costco card.   He called someone he knew that worked at Costco and she looked up my account and called me.  How fabulous was that? 

Poor Rayman went back to the restaurant which was very close by, to pick up my purse  (because my driver’s license was in the purse ) while I tried to figure out how to stream the news on my MacBook Pro.  When I kept hitting walls, it occurred to me that perhaps Rayman’s iPad could do it.  And it did!!  Rayman walked in just as I got the program on his iPad and we watched the news!!  Now that is great timing.  The news was so upsetting that Rayman didn’t even mention the lost purse episode.  And neither did I!  Overall, it was a very positive experience and we count ourselves lucky that my purse fell into good hands.  Rayman gave the nice guy a tip for his honesty.  It does the heart good to know there are some trustworthy people in our midst.   Not to mention the fact that I could have lost the purse for good, returned home and then discovered that my purse was missing., become insane and deranged at approximentaly the same time, etc.  Oh, the possibilities.   

Today Mr. Yang showed up.  Since Mr. Ying was so kind to us, Yang was a clear disappointment.  There was nothing open in a way of a bakery in Roseburg so we drove to Grants Pass an hour south.  Then the cutoff to 99 E was closed for construction so we had to double back a few miles to get back to I-5 so we could get another road over to 99.  We also had to stop for ice and I thought Rayman was going to blow a gasket.

We parked in the Safeway parking lot in Redding.  Forgot our masks so I sent him back to the car in a sincere attempt to save him from catching Covid, while I went in and bought the ice.  The plan was for Rayman to get the car and pick me up in front of the store.  Well, it was painted red, the sidewalk, I’m talking about.  Rayman wanted to move the car from the DO NOT PARK zone.  My idea was just to get the cooler out of back quickly, and pour the ice in and vamanos.  It became so contentious that Rayman said he worried we would get shot for being so stupid.  I said, “Oh, for Pete’s sake.  It’s fine”.  That is when the 6 shooter appeared, Rayman got pistol whipped, and I drove out of parking lot.  

Just kidding.

Nothing happened.  Other than raising Rayman’s blood pressure to a very unhealthy level.  

Now I would be remiss if I said the whole ice follies event occurred because Ryan gave Rayman an assortment of beer for early Father’s Day gift.  We needed to ice it down.  It is with us so we can drink it after a hot day on the road and today, the clouds disappeared and the sun shone bright enough to warm the the temp to 80.  If we haven’t have done that, I would be drinking warm beer right now.   So even though Ryan is in WA, I could make a case all this was his fault.  And if I did, divorce would be inevitable!!

Tomorrow we head home.  From Chico to Morro Bay.  It will be a long slog but perhaps it will be perfect!!

To finish this on a high note, I present to you some pictures I took in the bakery in Grants Pass.  Enjoy.  I would have tried to edit these but the beer has kicked in.  It’s called Diversionary Pinot Porter.  Very good.

 

It’s Saturday.  Overcast.  Warmish.  And I feel like blogging.

With fear and trepidation in his heart, Rayman agreed to take mass transit into downtown Portland to see the Dragon Boat Races today.  We have never done that before.  Our virgin voyage.  We were meeting our friends, Al and Charlie, for a morning on the Willamette River and we were told traffic and parking would be difficult.  

The City of Portland transit system is a marvel.  A combo of buses, light rail, and streetcars work together to shuffle people here and there using the latest software programs to help passengers.  It is much more progressive than Bart which I rode when I lived in the Bay Area.

They have an app called HOP.  You establish an account.  Figure out how you want to pay. and you’re ready to go.  The app even allows you to put in your current destination and where you want to go and then gives you three options on how to get there.  Nifty.  

Of course, we had trouble but not enough to prevent us from arriving at the river only slightly late.  

Here we are on the bus, on the way.  

 

The bus ride took us to a transit center where we boarded the light rail system.  When we crossed the river, the train stopped and said there was an issue and that the train was waiting for resolution.  That’s when the police cars showed up.  So, we jumped off and started walking to the meet up location.  Visions of gun violence danced in our heads.  After a good walk, we met up with Al and Charlie thanks to texting with Al.  As Al said, “you’re not lost if you have a phone”.  

We then watched some races.  It was entertaining and colorful.  Think Portlandia.  Here is a picture of the boats post-race.  

 

 

 

Here is one of the many observers of the races.  He came fully prepared.  We didn’t even bring a chair so there was no sitting down for our sorry asses.

 

The lawn along the river was muddy.  The port-a-potties had run out of TP necessitating tearing the back page off the free program booklet.  So, not ideal but what the heck.

There are ships on the river right now.  Coast Guard ships.  There is even a submarine in the river today.  An actual submarine.  It was lying low if you’ll pardon the pun.  

After a time we grew hungry and left the festivities to go get a pizza at a place called Life of Pie Pizza.  Sat outside because forecasted rain had not yet materialized and gulped down pizza and beer or wine for a fine lunch.  

It was time to leave.  Al figured out how we should get home and it was via bus 24 or 30 or something like that and the bus stop was not too far from where we ate.  He also showed us how to use the app library on my phone.  Very instructive day.  

 

Our bus arrived, we bid fond adieu and off we went.  When the bus stopped, the driver told us we had to disembark because, we had to ..so we did.  Now what?  Rayman knew where we were.  We were at the Providence Arena, a sports venue and there was a light rail stop a half a block away.  So, we jumped on the next train and basically retraced our steps from there.  

 

 

Now this is not that lively a story but if you stop to consider that we vaguely knew a little bit about the system but went ahead and used it anyway…an old couple of Honored Citizens as the TriMet refers to “older clientele” and took the plunge, we managed.  We were successful.  

That and the fact that we were never lost at any one time for very long, it was even more impressive.

Key learnings:  if you leave the driving to them, there are no arguments, you get to watch the scenery go by, and you don’t have to pay to park, look for a place to park and all that entails.  

It really was marvelous.  

 

 

 

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.

 

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.

 

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.