3/22/11

When everything in your life is going haywire, you forget your own limitations. In my early 20's I took a stained glass class and never finished a project. I am not a detail-oriented person. Think of me as a macro personality (as opposed to micro). And for the sake of Theresa Patrick, a blog reader, I am also a pretty strong Gemini.

To review -NOT detail-oriented and schizophrenic. It's a heady combination.

I ordered kitchen cabinets. The space between the top of the cabinets and the ceiling is nothing but a dust collector. Our cabinet designer suggested small cabinets on top of our "real" cabinets.

Visualize this. Small cabinets with interior lighting and glass in the doors. Nice? Of course. But how much nicer would it be if the glass was leaded. How hard can this be?

We have 11 cabinets which are 5 different sizes. It's not a one-pattern fits all. But I found one pattern that I am envisioning will fit all. And now that I have 6 of the windows complete (and let me assure this has taken hours upon hours of time I simply do not have), I remembered why I never finished a project.

Not only did I fail to take into account the time commitment this would entail, but I failed to imagine the costs. Believe me, I could have paid to have someone else do it for about the same amount of money. Plus (and this is both a positive and a negative thing) I enlisted my mother-in-law's help. (positive) And have consequently taught her some swear words she never knew before. (negative) Fortunately I am only a daughter-in-law and can't be written out of the will.

3/21/11

About a year or so ago we replaced our windows. Several contractors/window people bid it. Seventeen windows. The prices ranged from $7500 to $33,000.00.

We did not get the $33,000.00 windows. Does that surprise you? At the time we said, "is this our retirement home?" And decided it wasn't.

So we went with a cheaper alternative. Our house was built in 1938. Construction has changed a lot since then. The men who put in the windows did not add insulation or make any adjustments other than to replace the wooden frames and glass. So why weren't our utility bills any cheaper?

Less than 2 years later, they leaked. The roof leafed. The skylights leaked. We got a new roof and windows taken out - insulated and set back in. It completely changed the appearance of the house.

Sometime in the past our house was owned by a man who owned stock (a lot of it) in Radio shack. The reason we know this is the wiring. Not only did house have holes in the walls for speakers and volume control. Each room including the baths had telephones. Try to imagine how many calls I wanted to take in the bathroom. Cable installers groaned when we took them to the basement and the closet of wires.

Times have changed. We no longer even own a land line. Replacing the roof allowed us to remove 3 of the 4 skylights.

So now we have a very different house with - wait for it - beige aluminum siding. Whoo hoo!

Of course, the siding had to go. But here's the cool part. Under the siding (and yes we did have those tacky aluminum shutters) was cedar siding. Cedar siding today is priced at $3.40 a foot. I know this because my remodelers are so excited they mention it about three times a week.

My house continues to look worse before it looks better. We're still waiting on better. In one of my poor-pitiful-me moments, my husband reminded me of the quote I had posted on the wall in my office. "When you are in the middle of something, everything looks like a failure." Never post anything on your walls - you are just calling out to the Universe to make it a fact.

So how did we pay for all these changes, in a year where we had not budgeted for this? Why we went to our credit union. And guess what? Our house is now worth $100,000.00 less than it was two years ago. So it turns out, we who weren't bright enough to know it, are upside down in our mortgage. But just barely.

The good news is once the remodel is finished the house will be worth more than it is today. However, we won't have any comparables to prove it.

So as it turns out, this is our retirement home.

March 20, 2011

You might not have noticed, but I haven't posted for a while. My mother was diagnosed with lung cancer last August and given 3-6 months. So between my job, the rebuilding and numerous trips to Texas to see my mother, I've been busy.

March 25th is right around the corner. March 25th is our one year anniversary of our fire. I've booked another trip to Texas to celebrate. And to keep the trifecta going. I've entered a big writing contest with results posted on that same day. With my luck so far this year, what do you think the chances are that I will final? Slim? None? Honestly, I wouldn't have entered if I'd realized the date the finalists would be announced.

Back to the house. What have we been doing? Well, in August - nothing, In September - nothing. In October we got a deck and french doors leading to the deck. By the end of the year we had a new HVAC, some new wiring and some new plumbing.

The plumbing came with it's own special issues. My husband wanted a steam shower. I ordered one online. One of the lessons I've learned is that ordering online is not always a good idea. The plumber didn't like the quality of the shower and called the building inspector. The building inspector called the factory.

Heck no, it hadn't been inspected.

Were we daunted? No. For only $250.00 we were able to have the shower re-crated and sent back.

We ordered in another shower (from the same company. Several thousand dollars more expensive, but this one had been inspected), but only by the electricians - not the plumbing people. For five weeks, the shower sat in front of my house like a ugly lawn ornament while we tried to get them to take the second shower back.

At that point we gave in. No steam shower. But that's when we learned that the vanity we'd demolished had been custom built. So the new vanity wouldn't work. Nor would any other vanity work because I only had an 18" depth. So I pondered. What is long (5') and skinny (18")?

A sofa table.

Okay, I have to admit it. The new vanity is going to be so cool. A gray marble top, claw and ball legs, a clear vessel bowl. I'll post photos as soon as it's in.

Our fire has been a mixed blessing. We're getting a brand new house, but at what cost? In my next post I'll tell you about the roof and the siding which weren't damaged by the fire, but still get to be replaced. (Guess what? The insurance company isn't paying for the roof and siding).

Next time I have a house fire I'm not calling the fire department until it has burned to the ground.

August 24, 2010

Everyone's getting antsy. Things take so long. The relocators, who find and pay for the alternative housing, called today. Are we ready to give 30 days notice? No. We're not. The builders are waiting for us to get back to them on changes we want made. Even so it seems to be moving slowly.

Our basement is white. Seal coated to prevent the smell of smoke from ever returning. No new windows yet. My work has heated up and I have less time to fool with fretting over the house which might be a good thing, except now is the time to make choices.

If I'd been born rich, I might well have walked away from the house and let someone take on the rebuilding problems. Does it work that way, if you can afford to take a loss on the home? I doubt it.

Like most people we are still recovering from the "dip" in our 401K and, I used these next words lightly "stock portfolio." We can't afford another hit. So I am plunging ahead trying to make time for all the things I want to do plus all the things I need to do.

Being raised on fairy tales is hard on us. I want the fairy godmother with the magic wand. I want the prince on the white horse. I even want the troll who can spin the straw into gold. And before I whine way too much, I know others are going through worse times than I am. But I believe in the Secret. I believe that God's in His heaven and all's right with the world. I believe nothing bad will ever happen to me.

Except that it did.

8/15/10

The contractors appear to be finally through with demolition. The basement is one big room - no furnace, no hot water heater, no washer and dryer, no walls except the outside ones, and no insulation. For the first time, the windows, which have been boarded up, are uncovered and set for replacement.

Everything is white from the smoke sealant. Four months and twenty days since the fire, we are finally ready to rebuild.

We met with the plumber last week and tweaked our changes. We're adding a steam shower downstairs and a doggie wash in the basement. The basement windows and the lead paint on the windows are subject to be replaced this week, except for one.

We have honey bees. Wild ones that my husband is in the process of trying to domesticate. Yes, somewhat it is like teaching pigs to sing. Anyway, the bees chose us, we didn't choose the bees. They moved in one day when we weren't looking.

You're probably thinking, moved in? What? You had a bee hive just waiting with a vacancy sign out?

No. We had a in-ground box that previous housed plumbing for the sprinkler system that the last owners dismantled. Once the bees had put up a do-not-distrub sign, we realized getting rid of the bees or relocating them was going to take more effort than we were prepared to give it. So my husband added a bee hive over the top.

We've tried the honey and it was wonderful. The contractors, however, are not as thrilled as my husband to discover that all the windows that need replacing are within five to seven feet of the bees. They really don't care how good the honey is.

There is good news. Honey bees become inactive when the temperature drops to 50 degrees. So some of the windows are scheduled for replacement in late September.

If one was to look on the plus side of home fires, you do get to gain a whole lot more knowledge about stuff you never, ever gave a rip about, prior to this.

7/30/10

So much has happened. The insurance company sent a check for $21,000.00 to pay for the abatement. I have been thrilled with not only my insurance company willingness to work with us to make things right but also the contractors who listen to what we want.

I spent the week in Idaho and came back to a lot of work underway. The weak subfloor where the fire took place was replaced with sheets of plywood. Charred pillars in the basement were replaced. Support beams were shored up with sister beams.

The basement previous (BF - before fire) had consisted of one room sheetrocked, wallpapered (wasn't everything?) and carpeted that stored the camping equipment, a desk, etc. Those walls and the walls that make the laundry room a separate room had been taken down making the basement seem quite spacious.

Our house attracted do-it-yourselfer's. Previous owners have made many additions including phones in every room - the basement, the bathrooms and so on. Not all of us feel the same. If you call me, I'm not desperate for company to want to answer the phone in the bathroom.

The cable people groan every time they see their cable equipment in the basement because it's such a jumbled mess.

The entire house had been wired for a sound system that was put in and taken out before we owned it. Same with a sprinkler system.

Like so many other people we've gotten rid of our land line. The box used for the non-existent sprinkler system was taken over by honeybees, so my husband added a bee house on top. Several weeks ago he donned his bee suit and got great honey from it.

So the basement ceiling is a mass of electrical wiring, telephone wiring, pipes for additional plumbing. It amuses us the contractors are appalled.

Plumbing and electrical are scheduled for next week. No doubt they'll feel better when they know what every single wire attaches to. No doubt we'll sleep better at night ourselves.

7/11/10

Finally! Something is happening.

Construction plans have been approved by the city or county or whomever waves the magic wand over plans and says, "Okey dokey."

The contractor and the insurance company still haven't agreed on who is paying for asbestos removal. But the adjuster and his boss have recommended that the insurance company pay. Like everything else in the world it gets kicked upstairs to the powers that be and someone with a rubber stamp makes a decision.

But the asbestos has been removed and the basement has been sandblasted. For the first time a subcontractor worked on a Saturday. So the charred pillars look better. Next they seal the basement to contain the odor of the fire.

Summer has come to Portland. As usual it came with a bang. Cold, damp weather lingered until last week. Then it was 95 degrees. For those of you who live in weather than is normally this hot, let me point out that Portland isn't air conditioned. We have about two weeks a years (usually not together) of over 90 degree weather. Hardly worth the cost of A/C.

Today, it is only supposed to get to about 85 degrees. In a move that was unusually clever for us, my husband and I managed to spend most of the hot week at the coast where it was overcast and 65 degrees. PB & J had their first road trip.

The Oregon coast is different from any other coast. The trees march down to the water. To travel through a state park like Ecola (near Canyon Beach, OR) you drive through a primeval forest practically chanting 'lions and tigers and bears, oh, my'. Then there is a clearing and suddenly the ocean is front of you.

There are no private beaches, but getting to many of them requires scaling a precarious rocky descent. The deserted sand makes the climb both up and down worth while. Don't bother with a swim suit. The gray water is always too cold to swim.

My favorite time at the beach is winter. Before we had so much family in town, we would spend Christmas at the coast, bundled up, walking on the sand and drinking hot chocolate.

The day you marry you believe you could never be happier, yet after twenty years or so, you can't imagine life without your spouse and what you remember are cold Christmas mornings drinking hot chocolate and thinking the world is just about perfect.

June 30

Finally some news. We met with the contractor yesterday to discuss what changes we'd like to see made. The plans are now waiting for city approval. We may still be weeks away from doing anything new, but it feels like we're moving ahead.

We no longer need a light for the basement since we can see through the ceiling. Sandblasting will be the next step for the basement and then some sort of sealer.

The steam shower looks like it won't work, but we decided to move rooms around. the second bedroom changed roles with the TV room. And the fact I want a poured concrete floor in the kitchen is a possibility.

Yard work has gotten away from us. The front yard, as well as the back, is a jungle.

You can't believe how overwhelming it all feels. Once the rebuilding starts I'm sure it will be rewarding to see improvements every day. That is if we can still get from the street to the house without a machete.

June 19, 2010

For two weeks nothing has happened. At least it seems to us like nothing is happening.

The contractors have removed the hardwood floors in the hallway, living and dining room, so we are walking on subfloor. Keeping in mind that the ceiling below the subfloor is the truly damaged area, not every plank feels firm under your feet.

It's not as bad as an Indiana Jones movie where we are forced to cross a rickety bridge high above a canyon with a trickle of water in the bottom. Plunging through would equate to certain death. But when a board groans and bends under your weight you can visualize a broken leg without any problem.

As I have mentioned before, we have asbestos. Not just asbestoes-taped ducts like everyone predicts. No...0. Whoever installed the ductwork loved the tape. Really loved the tape. Our contractors have never seen anything like it. From top to bottom we have asbestos tape over every square inch of ductwork.

And because it is a house that has had a lot of 'helping hands at home' remodeling work done to it. We have found lights in walls with light fixtures still attached - including bulbs.

Two owners back, as near as I can figure, the guy must have had a serious audio fixation. He wired the house for speakers so we also have a variety of wiring that run to dead boxes. But in the original walls when you see the wiring that has been there forever, it sort of amazing that the fire only started in the basement.

Needless to say we have not been burdened with insulation either. At least not in the outside walls. The second floor was an attic remodel, so insulation was added upstairs whenever that happened.

When you take a house down to the studs, you learn more than you ever wanted to know. Particularly in a house, you bought for the character. I guess houses are more like people than I thought. The sterling exterior some times masks a rotten core.

6/2/10

Good news.

The first floor is in better shape than we imagined. Despite all the smoke on the plaster walls, there is very little damage behind it.

We do not have balloon construction. Balloon construction is an open shell from the basement to the ceiling.

So the second floor will be repaired, but not gutted.

The lack of smoke may mean we are able to save more of the first floor that we originally believed possible. Our first floor bathroom has a lot of wood. (see photo). This wood surrounds the tub, encases a piece of stain glass up above and provides wainscoating for the rest of the room.

There is also a possibility that some of the hardwood floors (everywhere on the first floor) may not required replacement. If that's the case, we could save a bunch of money, but what we don't want to end up with is a hot summer day where the smell of smoke leaches out of the floors. This will be a tricky decision.

With the removal of the kitchen cabinets and all the walls, a lot of the smoke smell is diminished. But I noticed yesterday when the house had been closed up for the rain, it wasn't completely gone.

For the first time in a week or so, the house and our circumstances don't depress me. Fellow workers have laughed off last week's melt down, so I'm good there.

There is a light at the end of the tunnel and if it is an oncoming train, it has me fooled.

5/31/10

Quiet three day weekend. The house will take another week to finish demolishing. Then we have the Engineers. Everybody gets to write a report. Things like the furnace gets tested.

Next we figure out what we can do and how much above the Insurance money this will cost. Because we want to make changes. Like the garage and the down stairs shower.

We have been impressed by how the demo guys sort for the dumpster. I don't know if the dumpster people care, but I bet they do based upon how carefully it's being sorted. The trim and woodwork that contained lead paint were hauled off separately.

Here's the order of things as I understand them. 1) reports 2) discussions with insurance adjuster 3) draw up repairs, changes, schedule 4) figure out money 5) get permits.

When all of that is done, the contractors can tell us how long the project will take. Right now we are just over 2 months into it. We're hoping to be back in the house before Christmas. Don't bet against us. Not because we're so determined, but because it will break my heart. I need the hope of illusion.

5/28/10

No matter how you slice this week, it was depressing. So depressing in fact I had a major meltdown at work. Amazingly enough no one has asked for my resignation - yet. But the worse news is that right now I am on the receiving end of hugs, pats on the back and sorrowful looks.

Who do I have to blame for this? Myself. When all I want is my life back. I want to be living at home, not in a apartment. I want to be able to focus on work. I want to quit worrying about money, colors, flooring, french doors, balloon framing, lead paint and new abatement laws.

Every day I visit our once-cute little house and want to weep. Our house is being demolished. Okay, so I knew it was coming. I just didn't expect it to hit me so hard.

A house is just a thing. It is not a person. It is not irreplaceable. Losing a house is not a major catastrophe. But for some reason I am reacting like it is. Normally I like me. Just not this week.

We've got pills for everything else. Why don't we have 'act like an adult' medication? I'm sure some of you know someone else besides just me, who could use it.

5/21/10

The contractors started on the basement yesterday. Since the house has no electricity, they brought their own lights, but I couldn't figure out how to operate when I arrived late yesterday evening. All I could see was sheetrock had been pulled off two walls and studs were left standing.

My husband was impressed. The contractors asked to leave the back gate open and my husband had to explain that if our dogs got out, they weren't smart enough to come back home since they prefer to operate with the free-at-last, free-at-last game plan. There is some debate about whether or not they are bright enough to not play in traffic.

The contractors evaluated the problem, purchased a 4' x 8' piece of pressed board and created a barrier. The nice thing was we didn't even have to explain about their leaping tendencies. Child gates aren't high enough to hold them in. It's like their back legs are made of coiled springs and because their hair is long, it dances when they fly through the air, giving the impression that they are living life to the fullest. Kind of like when you were a kid and running just for the sake of running was fun.

PB and J have had control of the back yard since they were puppies. They know every inch of it. We've blocked holes under fences when they dug their way to freedom. We've got neighbors with dogs, chickens and llamas. All the animals know each other.

Our neighbor has daycare in her house and reported to us that one of her little charges assured her mother that we said it was okay for her to take one of the dogs home.

We've got plenty of chickens. She can have a chicken (or two), but I prefer to the keep the dogs as a matched set. After all, what is peanut butter without jelly?

5/18/10

For the first time the Insurance company isn't ahead of us. Either we've caught up or they're lagging behind. But things have slowed while we wait for them to act.

But while we are waiting for them to make a decision about asbestos abatement, we have made a good discovery. Our lead paint is only on our woodwork. Apparently all that wall paper saved the walls from having to be abated. I suppose this calls for a celebration.

Demolition will begin while we wait.

My husband is frantically planting cucumbers. He has taken on a food challenge. Another chef contacted him asking for 2000 pounds of pickling cucumbers. The planting has begun. Will we have cucumbers before we move back back in?

I watched the movie 'Up' last night. Good. Fun. I had no trouble suspending my disbelief as the balloon bundle rips the house off the foundation and an 8 year old boy steers the house to exactly where he needs to be in South America with a hand-held GPS. (In remarkably short time). Real frankly my GPS can't locate my own house, so finding a water fall in South America shouldn't be a problem.

The talking dogs were totally believable as they flew dogfighter aircraft, cooked gourmet meals and yet were easily distracted by a ball or the word 'squirrel'.

But I couldn't imagine an elderly man taking a child not just across state lines but across continents without parental consent. Where was Amber Alert? So the old man and the kid have an adventure, return home in a blimp, the kid gets his merit badge. Where are the kid's parents? The mother, a divorced single parent, is sitting in the audience while her child is alone on stage. The old man arrives late but in time to save the day.

Here's the shocker. No one arrests the old man.

And this was a movie I liked. No wonder I have trouble plotting a novel.

5/17/10

Biggest disappointment of the weekend. Those shoes that made me so happy last Thursday and Friday I've discovered aren't wearable. They don't smell like smoke or look like it, but when you take them off at night, you're feet are black from smoke residue being ground into your skin. Can this be healthy?

I took photos of the house this weekend, so when the construction is complete I will have before and after pictures. The contractors had the kitchen appliances removed and sent to testing. (smoke corrodes wiring). I'm sure other people move their appliances to clean behind (like the refrigerator, the dishwasher, the trash compactor), but I don't. The floor shows it.

Like many of the repairs done to the house, the floor smacks of do-it-yourself. The kitchen floor was laid after the cabinets were in. In one corner of the kitchen a cabinet was removed before we moved in and you can see the previous flooring. Under the dishwasher is sub floor.

I'm ready for the demolition. I'm tired of the voice in my head that makes me feel guilty because I am not cleaning the walls and floors. People will see. What will they think? Intellectually I know they will think there was a fire, but my unconscious reminds me every time I'm there, people will think you're a bad housekeeper.

Once the demolition begins, the true story of how much work will be required to right the house will emerge. Will the 2nd floor be destroyed or just cleaned, re-carpeted and repainted?

And when we are back in the house, will we ever feel safe again? Or will the threat of an uncontrollable disaster keep us awake nights?

I've been in two serious tornadoes, one fire and a couple of minor earthquakes. Some days I marvel that I'm able to get out of bed at all.

5/14/10

In The Beginning God Created...

Porta-potties? Probably not. But this is the first sign the work on our house is about to start. Like the red-breasted robin signifying spring, the blue honey bucket signifies workers are about to begin demolition. And what a delightful thing to have in the front yard.

Yesterday, shoes arrived from the dry cleaners. Shoes. Who knew I'd miss shoes so much?

I made them take back almost as much stuff as they brought. Tablecloths, linens, bedding and winter clothes, but I kept all the shoes. Based upon estimates I'm getting, it looks like we could be in this apartment about six or seven months. This feels like camping out. We have nothing on the walls and the furniture is rented. Everything is close together and kind of cramped.

I'm getting old. This wouldn't have bothered me several years ago.

When we traveled in Asia, stories were everywhere about how entire families lived in small apartments of no more than 500 square feet. They slept in shifts. Laundry hung on every balcony. It was a very common way of life.

My husband did a demo a few years ago where his class represented the world at the dinner table. Only 8% sat got a steak dinner, 92% of the class got vegetarian usually a combination of beans and rice. Some got oatmeal, some only got a piece of fruit. We forget how lucky we are.

And some (mentioning no names, please) like to be drama queens.

5/13/10

The restoration dry cleaners called and they would like to return our clothes. Sounds good, doesn't it? So for they've returned bedding, some tablecloths, some drapes, 8 boxes of clothes they couldn't clean, a butt-load of t-shirts and of course some personal items.

They have not returned shoes or the bulk of my clothes. Each day I wake up and say, "Should I wear black pants today?" And that answer is inevitably, "What a good idea. Going naked might be considered a bad idea."

Let's go back to why so many t-shirts. My husband wears t-shirts every day whether he's gardening or under his chef's uniform. Plus we grew up in the 60's and 70's. We have t-shirts from our past.

T-shirts that proclaim all-important words of wisdom, like, "I can't believe I forgot to have children." (Zero Population Growth, Paul Erlich, circa 1971 or possibly Women's Liberation Movement, I can't remember which cause I represented when I bought it).

We've set aside t-shirts that meant something to us and are going to have a quilt made. But as I sit here and think about it (while storing 13 large boxes of t-shirts), I have to ask. Where would I put a quilt like that? A 60's retro room? Would I have to get a black light and a Janis Joplin poster? A shag haircut? Going braless anymore won't work for me. Some times the past should just be the past. How is storing a box of t-shirts better than storing a box with a quilt?

5/12/10

The insurance company has agreed to pay for the tests for asbestos and lead paint. They have not agreed to pay for the abatement costs of cleaning it up. That requires studying our policy to see if we're covered. We are not covered for code upgrades. So if city/county inspectors come in and require my stairwell be widen to meet code, that will be on our dime.

Note to homeowners of older houses. Call your insurance. Ask. Do you have code coverage? Abatement coverage? I've always hated paying house insurance. You pay for years and years and years, never making a claim. Why? For the bank to be covered. Now that I am finally using the policy I wish I'd known more.

Our house sits on 1/2 acre in an unincorporated area between Portland and Beaverton. As a result, not only do we have chickens, we have a large backyard garden. My husband grows edible flowers, trick vegetables, lettuces, corn, squash, gourds, sugar snap peas, asparagus and potatoes. Just to name a few.

Our garage sits within 5 feet of the neighbor's fence. If we tear down the garage we can't rebuilt on the same slab. I serious doubt our neighbor cares, but the county would.

I can't imagine what possessed previous owners to build a flat roof detached garage and then not side it when they did the rest of the house. Tearing the garage down would improve the street value, but we will not tear it down. We will remodel. There a sentence you seldom hear - we spent last summer and a lot of money remodeling our garage. Lord knows, we want our cars to be happy. All houses have stories and many of us are grateful the walls can't talk.

5/10/10

Today we did it. We signed with a contractor. Both my husband and I feel a huge weight has been lifted from our shoulders. Now the testing begins. What problems lurk under the surface? When walls come down what will we finally see? Did smoke infiltrate the walls on the second floor? Will the second floor have to be taken down to studs?

People keep assuring me that I will love having a completely remodeled house, but will we lose the charm of an older home? The cove ceilings, the corner cabinets and/or the hard wood floors?

Okay, the good part is we will lose the chicken wallpaper in the kitchen and finally permanently fix the skylight that leaks in the upstairs bathroom. Each summer while I bite my nails, my husband and his father crawl up on the very steep roof and mend the skylight, which holds for about six months. And then one morning water is smattered on our dresser and we know once again the skylight needs work.

We want to be smart and know that we're making the best decisions, but with each choice comes both good and bad. We can't hold on to the past and adapt for the future. And nobody really likes change. Well, maybe after it's over, we do, but going through transition, whether physical or emotional, is hell.

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?