5/9/10

Mother's Day

This is the first perfect weekend of the year. The sun is out. The weather is 70 degrees. The sky is so blue it hurts your eyes. My iris are in bloom. This is when I remember why I moved to Portland.

Here is the secret to loving Portland, OR. :

Visit in July, August or September. The weather is always perfect. The sun shines. The landscape is profuse. Wild blackberries grow everywhere. U-pick farms are abundant. Do you want Rainer cherries, apricots, peaches, blueberries? You name it and in the summer you can pick it. Or you can purchase it, and a hundred more exotic ingredients at every grocery store or at the neighborhood farmer's market.

Once you've visited in the summer you will never leave. You will endure 9 months of rain just for three months of perfection.

Becoming a Portlander means:

You will own an umbrella, maybe several umbrellas, but you will never use one.

You will never drink Maxwell House or Folger's coffee again.

You will drive a hybrid and will recycle each week.

You will get used to not pumping your own gas or paying sales tax.

You will get used to really good food - even the food carts can dazzle and surprise.

You will fight a losing a battle with slugs

You will fill each weekend with crawfish festivals, garlic festivals, microbrew festivals

You will live between the coast and the mountains

You will think it's heaven and that euphoria will carry you until March or April when you realize you're tired of the rain.

The day of the fire it rained. Rain saved our house. My husband went home early to let the dogs in. Fifteen minutes later, everything would have gone up in flames. It also rained the next day and the next and the next.

But today we celebrate because summer is only eight weeks away and while I am picking succulent fruits and vegetables and canning to replenish our cabinets, what will you be doing?