| Sun | Mon | Tue | Wed | Thu | Fri | Sat |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | |||
| 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 |
| 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 |
| 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 |
| 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 |
Sun, heat, sultry, for this part of the world. I'm back from travel to the Northeastern United States. Best part was the Jean Shin exhibit in D.C. There's no place like home, that's for sure. I did get to see the Shepherd Fairey Barack Obama HOPE poster while in our nation's capital as well, at the National Portrait Gallery. The beat goes on.
St. Francis of Assisi was hoeing his garden when someone asked what he would do if he were suddenly to learn that he would die before sunset that very day. "I would finish hoeing my garden," he replied.
—Louis Fischer
Alberta Art Hop Day. The Al Forno Feruzza bus had its completed paint job on display (this is the in-progress version) as we wandered by, up and down the closed thirty or so blocks of Alberta Street, our neighborhood, our neck of the Portland woods. The parade seemed down-sized this year but still fun thanks to Rose City Vaudeville and the March Fourth Marching Band with their stilt-walking musicians and clowns. Who are these people? Extroverts, I suspect.
All this springtime jubilation after more than a few days of mega-gardening to the point where I'm forced to be prone to recover from the backache. Digging, weeding, rooting out, and planting—three hosta, ferns, two coleus, three clematis, a dozen nasturtium, cosmos along the driveway fence, and today even geraniums in window boxes as the birds flit and nest and sing.
Let's not forget about rock hauling as well. Well, pea gravel in a sesame tahini bucket I got a few years ago at the co-op in Corvallis but now, lo and behold, both paths in our backyard garden are replenished with a new layer of tiny stones. And the excess? Truck driven into the alley and it was shoveled into a reserve pile next to the Vicolo Giardino. Raking, too, thanks to my new, made-in-California shrub rake found at Garden Fever last week. And watering. The beat goes on.
Good days, though. Much fresh air. Barely inside the house at all. Cats lazy in the sun-drenched dirt or open windows. This too shall pass but for now, keep on rocking and digging in the free world.
I really feel (finally) like I live in a city this past week. This in spite of just coming in from digging out spreading day lilies from the clayey mud that our side garden turned into after yesterday's rain. This in spite of working in a garden that is more like being in the woods what with its abundance of ferns and shade and the canopy of three giant big leaf maple trees. No, it's more from a sense of ease with which we've been able to be out and about doing this and that of late. Breakfast and dinner with friends who were in the city for a few nights. Easy to get to the hospital for a quick visit with a friend who had surgery this week. Easy to get to coffee dates, lunch out, and a new Sunday farmer's market barely one mile from our house. Civilization meets the civilized, urban life. We can walk to most everything we need and want. The New York Times travel section raved about the frugal ethic—and the fabulous food carts—of Portland last week. Great to have landed here. Life is good.
This weekend is the Alberta Art Hop. I'm a volunteer doing something to help get the various marchers ready to be in the afternoon parade. Then likely clean-up afterwards when it's time to open up Alberta Street to cars again. It was fun last year and I expect it to be fun again. We're actually supposed to have...heat and sun for the weekend. A rare event in these parts. The photo above is one John took on Last Thursday, utility pole shadow on one of the many corrugated metal structures that line Alberta.
