hidden treasures

It snowed in Portland on December 30th. About four inches when all was told. Growing up in the smack middle of the Rockies where it dumps from November to May, I now suddenly appreciate the magnificence of a once-a-year snowstorm. People run outside homes and office buildings to see the stuff for themselves. Businesses close down. Cars are left abandoned and folks prance down the middle of roads amidst snowball fights. In a city that’s usually wet and gray like an old ragged towel, the snow always purifies, always energizes, always makes things clean and festive and new.

Look, I'm wearing white jeans for a muddy wet bike ride. Awesome.

The neighbor's creepy Christmas seal under a few inches of fresh.

What else? Well, a new year, and lost of changes. One of them being longtime awesome roommate Traci buying a house with her man, one Mr. Jamie Weller, over on Duke Street. They moved out the last load yesterday and I must say, the house suddenly feels cavernous, silent, empty. I find myself missing the “Ksssshhhhsssh” of a Keystone Light opening at all hours of the day. But serious congrats are in order for these two. They have a long road of painting, tearing down, and building back up again, but it’s all in the good name of having a little corner of the earth to call your own.

Traci, in her new spot. That crust brown carpet's gotta go.

Luckily, there's hard woods under there. And if you look closely, the ink from decades' old Laurel & Hardy newspaper cartoons transfered onto them. A hidden treasure!