Local Access Only. Daddy, bicycle. Daughters, bucket.

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September 2, 2010, there was some sort of street fair on NW Raleigh Street which had been closed as a thoroughfare--Local Access Only. Daddy's taking his daughters there in a bucket situated on a bicycle, a very smart way to avoid trying to find somewhere to park in that part of town, period, street fair closure or no street fair closure. As near as I can tell, that black cable dragging the ground beneath the bicycle and the bucket goes from the center of the back wheel up to the right side of the handlebars and then the brake lever. I guess that's what you call the part that you squeeze shut when you want to put on the brakes. I noticed these three Portlanders while I waited at the southbound 15 bus stop on NW 23rd Avenue, in my bag a bunch of fresh vegetables from the nearby Thursday evening Northwest Portland satellite of the Portland Farmers Market. I'd let Mama know that I was going to stay on the 15 and go shop there after work. (Please don't be confused, this photo was taken four months before she died. She was tickled about the prospect of fresh, home-cooked veggies.) Interesting that the farmers market in that area has now moved to the very street that Mama and I lived on, four blocks east of our apartment building.

Seen downtown, No. 5

Let me count a few of my daily life blessings for you.

First, from my employer I get a 24/7/365 mass transit pass. 

Second, I work in a building a single block from a bus stop where three bus lines that go west over the Willamette River stop at the beginning of my lunch hour. 

Third, those buses all stop a couple of blocks from the Wednesday downtown Portland Farmers Market, located at Shemanski Park in the South Park Blocks, behind the Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall. 

Fourth, while this particular version of the PFM is less than a square block, I prefer to think of it as being village-like, intimate and personable and filled to the brim with the bounty of folks who must have huge hearts because they're willing to grow all of these vegetables, fruits, and flowers--or to bake tarts and breads and cookies and quiches or make goat cheese--so that we can zoom over there on our lunch hour and shop among the trees. 

Fifth blessing, those founders of the city who donated the downtown blocks of land which have become home  of two versions of the Portland Farmers Market, this small one at the north end of the South Park Blocks and the huge Saturday PFM at the south end of the South Park Blocks.

So, this week on Wednesday I happily saw once again, up close and personal, why it is so ever-lovin' OK that it rains in Portland. These vegetables. Other fruits I didn't get a photo of because I was carrying too many vegetables back to work with me and couldn't manipulate the camera. And the flowers in the next photo, one that I took before I had all of the vegetables to lug.




Once I got home from work, I took everything out of the bags and washed it all and put it in these two colanders to drain.

Sixth blessing, knowing I'll soon cook and eat all of these beautiful vegetables. More on that next time.

• Seventh blessing, my friend Sarah of Portland Creamery sold me some mighty fine chevre and gave me a great big hug!