Well, that's a new one.

Today, several homeless people barked at Simon. I'm not sure what they said, but he seemed offended and just walked off, head hung low.

Market, Market, everywhere a market…

There are one bajillion Farmer’s Markets in Portland alone and three bajillion farmer’s markets just beyond the city.

Mt. Tabor.

We went up to Mt. Tabor yesterday – a great park with a view of the city in all directions. You can clearly see Mt. Hood – huge and lovely - and also what we think is Mt. Jefferson? St. Helens? It’s so awesome up there and I look forward to picnics, hikes and jogs in the park.

P.S. I did not take this pic...but that's what it looks like from Mt. Tabor...

Captured by Porches.

Phillip and I discovered a brewery called “Captured by Porches” – a small family-run brewery out of St. Helens, Oregon. The beer is good, but the story is so endearing that it might just be what makes the beer taste good. A young couple trying to do what they love and make it work. With a name like “captured by porches”….you understand immediately what they are trying to impart with their creation. Only distributed in Portland, Oregon.

Awwwww, sweet.


http://capturedbyporches.com/about.philosophy.html?lcat=1

Mt. Hood

On clear days, we can see the snowy crest of Mt. Hood from our balcony. I can’t tell you how much I love that.

Fourth and Flanders: “Campers”, “Shoppers”, and “Camper Shoppers”.

I’ve told you about the good, now it’s time to discuss the bad and the ugly.

Stelazine, Flupenthixol, Loxapine, Perphenazine, Chlorpromazine, Haldol, and Prolixin. These are the medications commonly prescribed for Schizophrenia. They need to air drop buckets of this stuff over Fourth and Flanders in Portland, Oregon. This is my neighborhood. I’m not kidding.

I’ve never seen so many mentally unstable people in one place. I have turned around countless times to respond to someone, only to realize they are NOT talking to me, but talking to themselves…loudly…and erratically. They hand out food here like it’s the “end times”, but sadly, I think people need medical resources even more.

The homeless situation in Portland is pretty bad. We seem to be in the thick of it – primarily because there are 3 or 4 soup kitchens close by, offering 2 or more free meals every day. I’m betting when the rain and cold comes, a lot of them travel south, but summers here are mild and free meals are flowing like honey onto the streets, so it’s a good place to be homeless, if you have to or want to go that route. Due to the absolutely crippled economy in this city, I’m sure it’s worse than it’s been in the past. I see the line everyday – at lunch, and then again, at dinner. I swear it’s longer every day.

These are truly hard times, something not lost on me in my own situation. I recognize every day that I voluntarily left a pretty secure job in this climate…and then see the masses of people lined up outside my window…who may have lost a job. I can’t help but think it’s no coincidence that I have this daily reminder. It’s an interesting and strange situation that I’ve thrust myself into and it will no doubt be a true test of my patience, perseverance, flexibility and perhaps more than anything, faith in my own intuition.

I will say, that most people in line are (or at least, appear to be) either mentally ill w/ no access to meds, or have been doing the homeless thing for a long long time. Yes – there are definitely the average Joes and Janes, obviously struggling and trying for something better. They are especially heartbreaking. But there are many that seem to not only accept, but embrace (and probably chose), the life of a wanderer. The city truly enables this lifestyle – an observation that begs bigger questions of how much assistance is too much assistance. I don't have the answers..nor a strong opinion. Not to make light of desperation – but some of these folks are professionals! There are the “Campers” – I’m talkin nice packs, tarps, sleeping pads, and even tents! They “hike” through the city, a lot of them young, punked out, tattooed up, accompanied by dogs and just wandering. Then, there are the “shoppers” – who carry on the tradition of hauling some useful, some maybe not so useful, items around in a shopping cart – bags tied to every corner stuffed with….I dunno. Then, there are the “Camper Shoppers”, who have it all. These folks haul entire lives and communities in their carts and packs. I saw one the other day who had a cart, a pack, and a wagon...full of small to medium large dogs barking almost in song.

Sad? I feel that way sometimes...definitely. But, I don’t know… I truly can’t tell who’s suffering and who’s content in this mix of vagabonds.

Madame Squeals A Lot.

Please excuse Seal's unladylike posture and glowing demon eyes in this picture.


Reunited, and it feels so good!

The cat arrived – alive – and that’s all I care about. She was not happy. When they handed me the crate she was totally silent. I think she had, after nine hours, just resigned herself to the fact that she was in a small plastic box in a dark bumpy place ...forever. But as soon as I said her name, and looked through the grated door, she began angrily chirping back at me ….and all was right in the world.

She did arrive with a bloody nose – all beat up from god knows what – trying to escape? Turbulence? I can’t bear to think about it too hard. She was safe and back home with us, so that’s what mattered. We brought her home and the dog went nuts. She was even happy to see him – evident in her willingness to endure the sloppy, full-on lick fest he offered up. There will have to be another life-threatening experience for the cat before we see that again.

So, the cat has been shipped and we all arrived in one piece. Now, we wait on our lives to arrive in boxes on trucks as we clank plastic spoons on paper plates and put our feet up on cardboard coffee tables.