Month: February 2014

Today’s snow walk theme: signs.

I hearkened on the theme as I passed by the DMV.  I was pretty sure what all those orange sign said, but decided to take a closer look. Then, as I passed by the businesses in the neighborhood, I made note of their signs.

DMV. Rather apocalyptic in its repetitiveness and color.

Pizza Fino.  We Portlanders have to be reminded of proper etiquette concerning snow.

Liquor Store.  The Liquor Store in Kenton reminded us of the snow etiquette too.  But then they just gave up and closed due to snow.

“Glass” shop.  You can guess by the quotes and the bars on the window what kind of glass they sell.  The sign says:  Noon to 6pm Snow Hours

Po’Shines.  Notice the change from 3:30 to 3:00.  It was really coming down yesterday afternoon.

Lambeth Tag.  A prophylactic sign.

Panda Express.

Perfect Look Hair Salon.  I love the hand written sign, the parenthetical asides (snow) and the incorrect date.

US Bank (located inside the open Fred Meyer store)

Revived Cellular.  I like how they just shut it all down on the first day of the snow.

Sweet Science Boxing Lab. They are open, but you have to be careful.

Bike Shop.  I can’t find evidence of their name on the Internet.  Regardless, I like the instructions to “Go Play.”

Early morning walk

The meditation and the 8:00 a.m. gym class were cancelled so I headed out for another walk through the snow.
It seems the neighbor cat peeked around the corner before retreating back to her side of the building.

The library was yarn bombed in the summer and the bombs still remain, now capped with snow.

Snow on this yarn bomb bike staple.

I need to go back and check to see what is usually under this cone of snow.

I’m guessing it is decorative grass.  It’s so very conical.
Here’s some sewer work that was interrupted by the snow.

At the Interstate/Lombard intersection there was trouble with this truck.  Other cars had to back up and a passerby directed traffic, so he could make his turn.

His chains were not quite affixed.

Birds were out and about.

More drifting snow.

Walking in the snow.

I got up early for a walk in the snow.  Here’s the view from just down the road.  As you can see, there have been few cars, a few people and one bike out and about before me.

Walk sign covered with snow.

Partial obscuring of street sign by snow.

I think that no one will want this couch.

A rare sight in Portland!  A shoveled walk!

Portlenders are very good at hunkering down in the snow.  We’re stalwart through the worst driving rain, but everyone just gives up at the first sight of a flake.  Example:  it’s 7:15 in the morning and I was the first person to walk on this stretch of sidewalk.

It was a blowing snow, so there were some fun shapes.

I shoveled my walk, though.  When shoveling happens only every few years, it’s quite fun.

I set out later for another walk.  Here I cut through a pristine alley.  But you notice a bike has been here before me.

A van, but what’s this?

A bit of snow graffiti.  This was sweet graffiti.  My friend captured a picture of a car where someone had written “PENIS” and another passerby had amended the word to “DENTIST”
More drifts of snow.

Icicle.

Early release due to SNOW!!!!

It’s been very cold (for here) all week, with the temperature hovering in the 20s during the day.  Usually when it is this cold, it’s sunny and too cold for snow.  But not today! Today we got snow.  Here’s the view at work at about 12:15 pm.  The school district called an early release of 1:00 by 10:30 in the morning, so for the first time, I got to experience the process of getting all the children to leave in the middle of the school day.  It went smoothly and everyone was gone by 1:30

I was home by 2:15, stomping the snow of my Doc Matins on the way in.

The kitties were very interested in the snow.

Willy Vlautin author reading at Powell’s

Aside from being the lead singer and songwriter of Richmond Fontaine Willy Vlautin is also an author.  He was reading at Powell’s to promote his new book the Free.  Did I mention he lives in Portland, Oregon?

Mr. Vlautin is a happy-go-lucky sort of fellow, which made for a pleasant evening.  He told us he was a painter (the house kind) for twelve years and the happiest day of his life was the day he didn’t have to be a painter anymore.  “Of course, a couple of years later,” he added, “I had to go back to being a painter, but that wasn’t such a great day.”
My favorite gem I’m taking away from this reading?  Someone asked how he knew when he was done revising.  “I stop feeling sick to my stomach and start thinking about a new book.”