St. John’s Bridge

Fremont Bridge/Steel Bridge.

Steel Bridge.

Gorgeous day at the Rose Garden.

My view of the sky tonight.

Slug-fest at Forest Park today.

I fall in love with this city a little more every day.

1. It doesn’t matter who might have hit whom, or who may or may not have a crowbar “up their sleeve,” there is no need to stand in front of the path of the bus until the bus driver gives up and calls the police.

2. If you’re drunk and sleepy, it’s best not to repeatedly fall asleep on my shoulder. There are plenty of other places in this city for you to sober up. My shoulder is not one of them.

3. If you’re planning to have an intense, loud conversation that will involve a lot of yelling and cursing about the nature of your sexuality and the father of your unborn child, it’s probably best to table those conversations until you are not riding a bus full of people who will yell at you to shut the fuck up.

4. Finally—and this is of the utmost importance—if you’re late for your NA meeting at Emanuel Hospital, attempting to climb onto the bike rack attached to the front of the bus because you can’t find your bus pass is neither safe nor recommended.

(All of these things occurred during my afternoon ride home today. Lucky me.)

There are rhododendrons everywhere in Portland! These are in my front yard.

Today we put in San Marzano, Sweet Olive, and Cherokee Purple tomatoes; more sage; rosemary; lavender; mint; and jalapenos.