A Gardener Spends an Hour or Two at Powell's Books

Last Friday the sun was out in the City of Roses and I was running around getting ready for my nieces's 21st birthday party. 

Why not stop for a bit at Powell's? Right?

I have been visiting the nationally-known and locally-loved store since I was a girl and to say that it's part of my routine and my life is an understatement. Long before the Internet existed I was using this book lovers' destination as a much needed resource—along with the local library system of course!

Walking the two blocks from where I'd parked my car I enjoyed the familiar sights. 

There were the usual humorous things to see too—even if I was the only one laughing. 

No folks, this is no longer a trash can once it's painted and planted!

As for the Italian cypress, it reminded me a bit of the old drunk men I used to see in this area as a girl. They too leaned up against the walls of building just like this poor thing. 

Portland looked much different during the 1970s. I suppose to outsiders, we still look different, but in a much more friendly way. 

 For instance, we have our urban windmills atop buildings. Everyone does that right?

Since I hadn't been to the downtown location for several months I'd not yet noticed that the gardening section had been expanded a bit.

There was a great display of new books and I was happy to see they've included a cheap section again with older titles that don't cost as much as the newbies.

Yes, it's harder now to find great deals on books here but that's happening everywhere.

My favorite section was still very much intact.

Beside it is my other favorite section in the store. As someone with a background in critical theory and philosophy relating to art history and visual analysis this section has been nice to transition into over the years. At least with gardens you can actually talk about something.

Upstairs in the arts area I was excited to see vintage typewriters on display with houseplants. This is a nice Ficus elastica.

Some of the other houseplants didn't look as nice but this is a bookstore after all. I felt like turning this Sansevieria but then I decided that I might look like one of those obsessive characters in that popular tv show you've probably heard about that's filmed here.

Before I left I was looking at hiking books because I plan to go on more plant and nature adventures this year. It was strange to me that an older edition of one of the used books seemed familiar. I looked on the back and suddenly remembered that my dad had resold the remainders he'd purchased from the original publisher when they'd gone out of business. I may have actually put this sticker on the back of this book because I used to do things like that when I was younger.  As the daughter of a publisher, I was lucky to grow up surrounded by books. I always could earn some extra money too.

When I was a young girl my Saturday mornings downtown at Powell's with my dad were often the highlight of my week. We'd often spend several hours there together reading quietly and watching people.

It was really nice to remember those memories just before leaving and I also found some great books for my niece.

O-Bon, the Spirit Festival at the Portland Japanese Garden

One of the key reasons I annually renew my membership to the Portland Japanese Garden is so that I can attend this members only event each August. During this time of year in Japan, for 3 days each summer, there is a spirit festival which is considered a homecoming of sorts to welcome back the spirits of ancestors into your home and life. Ever since my first visit to this festival, back when I was still a teenager, the Rev. Kodachi has led the Buddhist ceremony. I am honored to know both he and his wife. (I used to work with Mr. Kodachi during the summer for a week-long Japanese exchange program he created and Mrs. Kodachi just so happens to be my ikebana sensei.)

Before the ceremony, guests gather for Bon Odori. Of the 3 dances performed last night, this is the one I'm most familiar with since I learned it years ago. It is the dance of the Tankō Bushi or "coal mining song."

Guests enter the garden after the performance, and as the Rev. Kodachi chants, we are handed candles that are later lit and are floated on the pond en masse. 

Guests continue on and gather on the Moon Bridge. They can be seen to the left. 

Sadly my Grandmother Virginia's name was not read, but when my candle was sent out, I thought a lot about her. 

To my great surprise, for the first time, I heard much more weeping around me from the other guests and it made me smile.

I looked up at the night sky through the pine needles above and I thought about how she and I used to cry together so often. This would make us turn to laughing eventually and giggling about being such sensitive women. Grandma called us crybabies and she used to apologize that I'd inherited her traits but I'd comfort her by telling her that my sensitivity made me strong by making me vulnerable and honest. 

We both knew we had the horrible fate of being born with the hearts and souls of poetesses. Those around us did not understand this, and in my case, they still don't, but it's ok. Grandma feared others really knowing her, and knowing this weakness she had, but I am so proud she gave it to me too and I thanked her last night since it's what has made my life so unique and special. She gave me my heart and soul. This is a beautiful thing to give a woman and I am grateful above all else to her. 

The alter. 

After the event was over, I spent additional time speaking with the Rev. Kodachi, Mrs. Kodachi, and their son—whom I haven't seen in years. I met two of their granddaughters and I was filled with that happiness I so often have when I see small little women. We spoke of my divorce, my health, my plans for the future, and then I promised to return to ikebana classes next month.

I have my spirit back now and I very much look forward to moving on in my floral arranging studies. Ikebana is my art form and poetry and I really hope to keep doing it for many years to come.

The lights collecting, reflecting in the water, the koi sleep beneath. 

Portland Japanese Garden

Weekend Parties and Their Gardens

This last weekend I attended two parties. One was a 60th birthday for my former employer, and as you can see, he has a thing for pink flamingos.

Both of the homeowners are colorful people so it's been fun helping them out in their garden during the past few years.

Then on Sunday I attended a "meat" party hosted by an old friend at his house in inner industrial SE Portland. Not too long ago I'd lived near this area and it was great to hear the trains going by all day. I also was able to see a few people I haven't seen in about 15 years.

There were other dishes too but this is Portland after all and I'd be acting deceptively if I didn't admit to there being bacon cupcakes and PBR.

Like my old rental house in the area, these two houses are also boxed in by warehouse walls. During the weekend the place is empty so band practice next door was not an issue. The two houses are occupied by friends so the garden is a bit of a shared area though I think Jerrod is the one who takes care of it.

I'd hoped these were edible old roses but they were scentless and that was rather disappointing.

Jerrod has planted vegetables here and there for his culinary needs.

It's been very rainy again so these probably don't look much like summertime in the city but here in Portland this is what it can be like sometimes.

After dinner several of us gorged ourselves on u-pick raspberries.

Oh, and if you're counting this post for cool Portland references, I should add that Jerrod's roommate John works at Renovo Bikes. Yes, that's wood you see there on that bike frame.

Welcome to my little slice of Portlandia.

Ok, Jerrod also made a fresh salad too with homemade Cesar dressing, so it wasn't all about meat... (He also made a horseradish sauce too with fresh horseradish. Yes, this guy is a foodie.)

Wordless Wednesday: Cathedral Park, Portland, Oregon