A day has not gone by in the past month when I had not made note or two to myself of a little tales or snapped a fototito of something bewildering that has crossed my path. Notably the mecanic's shop one block East of Arlington has multiple huge faces dedicated to sick graffiti. Above, I am transported back one week to the streets of Portland. While mulling around my homeland between friends, meals, photo shoots, and dancing it was gloomlessly rainy. The clouds may have broke twice in the four full days I was there. Cracked blue sky exposed the garage sale sign, it was a message embedded with chalk on the corner sidewalk.
In the great traditions of the thrifters this sale was above average. Each guest was alloted one plastic grocery bag to fill with what you found irresistible for $3.00. Immediately E.P.F.D.M. and I started in one bag together, red shorts, blonde wig, crochet shirt, quilted zip up, and a soft pastel plaid late 70's women's blouse. Score! The rain didn't damper our desire to walk and roam the streets for coffee and a nosh when it started a heavy down pour as we emerged from the garage where the sale was housed. Alas, the trip was not completed with out an early morning hot tub dip with the pitter-patter of tiny raindrops. The soak was enough for me. The desert has me chugging agua, lotioning up, and enjoying plenty of fun times.
Shout out for Erin English's 24th birthday!
