Showing posts with label memories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label memories. Show all posts
Thursday, 27 March 2014
Along the west bank of the Willamette River, No. 2
Here's the jumping girl from yesterday's post, with her dad, mom, and little sister. Sweet to see a family out making memories in the sunshine on the first weekend that the cherry trees bloomed. The way the weather changes around here, sometimes these flowers depart quickly, so it is imperative to get on out there and take advantage of the best conditions, as soon as they occur. That's why I went over between the Burnside and the Steel Bridges Friday, March, 21, after work. I had no idea if I could get back to Tom McCall Waterfront Park on Saturday or Sunday, so I put a reminder on my iPhone 5 and made it happen. The reminder's necessary because on Friday I tend to be on autopilot for home, unless the Blazers are playing.
Friday, 4 October 2013
Memories, seen from a new perspective, thanks to the AHC's tour of 705 Davis Condominiums
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I took these photos from different windows in other condos--looking at the views was just as much fun for me as looking at the condos themselves.
On the sidewalks of NW Everett, between NW 22nd and NW 23rd--I'd have a hard time counting how many times I walked these sidewalks, in all kinds of weather, before and after work, on weekends, to and from the Fred Meyer, by myself, with Mama and our little dachshund Duncan, with my two sons, with my brother when he visited, my our friends-so-great-that-they-are-family visited from Mississippi and California, with a sweetheart of a friend from Mississippi who also became a Portlander, and with a friend I met at the bus stop who had a pet skunk. Walked with those folks in all sorts of combinations over the years. Back when we had a car, the '96 Buick, I parallel parked on either side of this one-way street numerous times--on NW 22nd also--sometimes with the ease of a hot knife in butter, sometimes not.
I could almost type the exact same text beneath this view, too, except that it's looking at the dead-end intersection of NW King with NW Davis. I parked the car here a lot, too. Boy, am I happy not to own a car any more!
Here's more of NW Davis, just east of the intersection in the photo right above this one. Mama walked the sidewalk on the right back when she was healthy enough to go to the beauty shop which was on the corner hidden by all of the leaf-laden trees. I have to tell you that when I looked out the window and took this photo, I got choked up for a little while, remembering the day she asked me to find her a beauty shop that she could walk to from our apartment. I used Google Maps Search Nearby and found us a beauty shop. I'm getting choked up right now just typing this because over the years we knew what we'd really found was a sweetheart of a woman, our friend Rosa. This woman came to our apartment in later years and gave Mama her trims and perms there because Mama's mobility lessened as congestive heart failure took its toll. The last photo of us together Rosa took with her camera after she'd done our hair in our kitchen, on the Sunday before Mama died in her sleep on Friday afternoon, January 7, 2011. I count myself blessed to still have Rosa in my life.
Back in the day, when Mama was mobile, we walked together to Fred Meyer a few times. We never carried our groceries home in a bag (back then the stores in Portland were allowed to use plastic bags, but not now as you can see from this paper bag in the hands of that man). We used a rolling black bag. Another thing, back in the day, we could walk right into our Fred Meyer with our little dachshund Duncan on his leash. It was hard to tell you was more popular with other shoppers, Mama or Duncan.
One last memory. See the mustard-colored, multi-storied building, top left? It stands diagonally across the street from our building. We lived on the top floor of our four-story building, and I seem to remember that the building we're looking at had six stories. Our living room was on the corner of our building closest to the intersection, therefore not far at all from the building we're looking at. Our TV was in the corner, with two good-sized windows in each of the two walls that made up the corner. I could sit in my chair, placed diagonally in front of the TV, and easily see most of the top floors of the building, not the two walls you can see in the photo, but the wall just out of sight to the left. Mama could not see what I could see from her recliner. Anyway, one night I'm sitting there in my chair, watching TV with Mama. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed motion in one of the windows, a repetitive, rhythmic motion. Taking my attention from the TV, I focused on that window and realized that I was seeing a man and a woman having sex in what I figured must be the living room, without any curtains shut. Her legs were straight up in the air and he was very busy between them. "My gosh," I said, "there is someone having sex in an apartment over there!" Mama said, "What? Where?" Then we decided we'd turn out the light so that she might could catch a glimpse without us being noticeably voyeuristic, but by the time we did that, it was all over over there. Truth.
I took these photos from different windows in other condos--looking at the views was just as much fun for me as looking at the condos themselves.
On the sidewalks of NW Everett, between NW 22nd and NW 23rd--I'd have a hard time counting how many times I walked these sidewalks, in all kinds of weather, before and after work, on weekends, to and from the Fred Meyer, by myself, with Mama and our little dachshund Duncan, with my two sons, with my brother when he visited, my our friends-so-great-that-they-are-family visited from Mississippi and California, with a sweetheart of a friend from Mississippi who also became a Portlander, and with a friend I met at the bus stop who had a pet skunk. Walked with those folks in all sorts of combinations over the years. Back when we had a car, the '96 Buick, I parallel parked on either side of this one-way street numerous times--on NW 22nd also--sometimes with the ease of a hot knife in butter, sometimes not.
I could almost type the exact same text beneath this view, too, except that it's looking at the dead-end intersection of NW King with NW Davis. I parked the car here a lot, too. Boy, am I happy not to own a car any more!
Here's more of NW Davis, just east of the intersection in the photo right above this one. Mama walked the sidewalk on the right back when she was healthy enough to go to the beauty shop which was on the corner hidden by all of the leaf-laden trees. I have to tell you that when I looked out the window and took this photo, I got choked up for a little while, remembering the day she asked me to find her a beauty shop that she could walk to from our apartment. I used Google Maps Search Nearby and found us a beauty shop. I'm getting choked up right now just typing this because over the years we knew what we'd really found was a sweetheart of a woman, our friend Rosa. This woman came to our apartment in later years and gave Mama her trims and perms there because Mama's mobility lessened as congestive heart failure took its toll. The last photo of us together Rosa took with her camera after she'd done our hair in our kitchen, on the Sunday before Mama died in her sleep on Friday afternoon, January 7, 2011. I count myself blessed to still have Rosa in my life.
Back in the day, when Mama was mobile, we walked together to Fred Meyer a few times. We never carried our groceries home in a bag (back then the stores in Portland were allowed to use plastic bags, but not now as you can see from this paper bag in the hands of that man). We used a rolling black bag. Another thing, back in the day, we could walk right into our Fred Meyer with our little dachshund Duncan on his leash. It was hard to tell you was more popular with other shoppers, Mama or Duncan.
One last memory. See the mustard-colored, multi-storied building, top left? It stands diagonally across the street from our building. We lived on the top floor of our four-story building, and I seem to remember that the building we're looking at had six stories. Our living room was on the corner of our building closest to the intersection, therefore not far at all from the building we're looking at. Our TV was in the corner, with two good-sized windows in each of the two walls that made up the corner. I could sit in my chair, placed diagonally in front of the TV, and easily see most of the top floors of the building, not the two walls you can see in the photo, but the wall just out of sight to the left. Mama could not see what I could see from her recliner. Anyway, one night I'm sitting there in my chair, watching TV with Mama. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed motion in one of the windows, a repetitive, rhythmic motion. Taking my attention from the TV, I focused on that window and realized that I was seeing a man and a woman having sex in what I figured must be the living room, without any curtains shut. Her legs were straight up in the air and he was very busy between them. "My gosh," I said, "there is someone having sex in an apartment over there!" Mama said, "What? Where?" Then we decided we'd turn out the light so that she might could catch a glimpse without us being noticeably voyeuristic, but by the time we did that, it was all over over there. Truth.
Monday, 13 May 2013
Mother's Day Mini-Vacation, No. 1
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Joan of Arc bid us a safe journey and great memories for our trip from Portland to Bend. I felt like her golden form, reflecting the sunshine and blue skies in Portland meant we were in for a good time. I took this photo at 1:36 p.m. on May 10, as we headed for I-84 east and the start of our drive, with Leland at the wheel of the Zipcar Ford Escape, named Engine, a dark red vehicle; Lamont sat behind me because he had more leg room there. By the way, when we rounded this traffic circle or roundabout in Laurelhurst, little did I know that this method of intersection would play a large role in our being out and about all weekend.
Here's what I found out about the golden statue on the Internet:
The Joan of Arc statue was added to Coe Circle in 1925. It was one of four statues given by Henry Waldo Coe to the city of Portland. It was made from the original molds of Emmanuel Frémiet's statue at the Place des Pyramides, which Coe saw on a visit to France. Portland's Arc statue arrived from France in 1924 and was dedicated on Memorial Day, May 30, 1925, honoring the Doughboys of World War I.
Joan of Arc bid us a safe journey and great memories for our trip from Portland to Bend. I felt like her golden form, reflecting the sunshine and blue skies in Portland meant we were in for a good time. I took this photo at 1:36 p.m. on May 10, as we headed for I-84 east and the start of our drive, with Leland at the wheel of the Zipcar Ford Escape, named Engine, a dark red vehicle; Lamont sat behind me because he had more leg room there. By the way, when we rounded this traffic circle or roundabout in Laurelhurst, little did I know that this method of intersection would play a large role in our being out and about all weekend.
Here's what I found out about the golden statue on the Internet:
The Joan of Arc statue was added to Coe Circle in 1925. It was one of four statues given by Henry Waldo Coe to the city of Portland. It was made from the original molds of Emmanuel Frémiet's statue at the Place des Pyramides, which Coe saw on a visit to France. Portland's Arc statue arrived from France in 1924 and was dedicated on Memorial Day, May 30, 1925, honoring the Doughboys of World War I.
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