I sold my house today.

Wait, what? Didn’t you sell your house before you left Minnesota?

Well, kind of. You might be thinking of how we got an offer within a few days of listing back in November and how we accepted and everything looked all good and then at the last minute before the deal was finalized, the buyer decided to withdraw?

Oh right, yeah. That sucked.

Yes it did. When I was telling a work friend about it, she said, “well, did you have a statue of Joseph buried in your backyard?”

Um, what?

My thoughts exactly! Turns out it’s a thing – you’re supposed to bury a statue of Joseph in your yard to add extra oomph to your house sale. It’s big business, too – you can even buy kits!

Well, after having a sale fall through like that, I was totes up for some oomph. And the research I did suggested that you don’t have to be Catholic (although I did wonder if I’d feel obligated to convert if it worked).

So, under cover of darkness, I got down to the business of Joseph-burying.

Fortuitously, it was Advent, so I just grabbed Joseph out of the nativity set. My set is a super fabulous one my bestie brought me back from Africa, so I made sure to protect him well.

(No worries – I replaced him by the manger with one of the wise men whose gift has detached. And hoped nobody would start counting.)

So? Did you get an offer right away?

Nope. That whole “selling a house at Christmastime” is def not easy. As the weeks passed, I was starting to get worried. I confessed to my friend that I wasn’t very happy about the thought of leaving Joseph behind if we moved before we sold. So the next day, I found this on my desk:

(A disposable Joseph! Complete with praying hands!)

On the one hand, problem solved! On the other – would you bury such a cutie?? So I was still worried.

But then, we had a bite. And the bite turned into a showing. Which turned into an offer. (At which point I quickly dug up Joseph, poised to return him if things went south.) The offer turned into some back and forth which turned into a “the buyer has accepted your offer” call – on the day the movers came, i.e. THE DAY BEFORE WE LEFT MINNESOTA.

It was such a relief to leave MN knowing that there was a signed offer. But, of course, we’d had one before, and it ain’t over until it’s over, so I kept mum about it.

And, as of today, it’s over! We closed on this most auspicious of days (wonder how the buyer will celebrate his anniversary of owning the house? Every four years Pirates of Penzance style?)

Unexpectedly, I’m quite sad. I’ve definitely missed my house before today, but something about knowing it isn’t mine anymore makes my heart pang. We had SUCH good times in that house. And I really loved it. And now it belongs to someone else who’d BETTER love the porch swing and the deck and the short walk to the co-op and the good school division and the lake nearby and the wine store and the hardwood and the beautiful, beautiful kitchen.

And who will never be the wiser as to how much their ownership depended on the helpful saint that occupied the little hole in the backyard just off the deck.

The scariest part of this move was, by far, the fear of destroying my children. Everyone says that high school is the WORST time to move and that if you move teenagers, you might as well start planning for homeschooling because they’ll be so ostracized and outcast and otherwise out-of-place that you’ll end up bailing on the public school system.

Oh, and they’ll hate you forever for destroying their lives and maybe after 25 years you will reconcile and you might get to spend Christmas with your grandchildren.

So I was a wee bit nervous, especially because both kids had some pretty solid friend groups and longstanding relationships.

But we’re at eight weeks in now, and I think we’re good! In fact, more than good. The Girl wins the prize of first person to invite a friend over!

The girls made Japanese lunchables – they’re the craziest things with a hundred little packets of powder that you add water to, knead, mold, microwave, and otherwise play with. The instructions are in Japanese, so you definitely need YouTube help.

And get this story – The Girl met this friend via Minnesota! Turns out one of her friends back home knew a girl online and they started chatting and when the internet friend said “I’m from Portland,” the back-home girl said “what school?” and it turns out she’s in the same grade at the same school as The Girl! Out of nowhere one day The Girl got a group text with her back-home friend and some stranger who texted “Where you at? I’m coming to eat lunch with you!”

(Coincidence? Sure, you can call it that if you like. However, I’ve been praying for friends and connection and lunch buddies for months now, so I’m just gonna chalk it up to God being the King of the Internet, too.)

Beyond friends (which both kids now have), they’re both doing amazing in school. (It does help that Edina has crazy-high academic standards and Portland has…shall we say…slightly less high academic standards. Both kids are finding some of the work repetitive, and I’m all for it – nothing wrong with a bit of an easier ride on the academic front while you’re navigating tough social/emotional waters.)

Moreover, their schools are really, really good fits. The Girl can be as weird as she wants to be (she even test-drove wearing a wig to school the other day) and nobody bats an eyelash. They feel accepted and they fit in. They like their teachers and their classes (oh man, The Girl is taking metalshop – she loves it, but every other day I tremble if my phone rings at around 1:30 in the afternoon, fearing for a missing digit report). They head off happily (mostly) each day and grunt “fine” when they come home and I ask how school was.

Honestly, I’m pinching myself. It seems too good to be true.

Apparently I lied when I promised Kindle/lounging pics. In an unfortunate convergence, several events happened to be scheduled for this past weekend (the convergence was unfortunate, not the events – the events were awesome!).

Friday night, The Husband and I went to our first Portland concert – Metric (yup yup – if you’re going to your first, might as well make it CanCon).

It was the Roseland and (shhh, don’t tell the ‘Sotans) it’s even better than First Ave. Look how intimate:

Look where we’re sitting! In the balcony! On real seats! Look where we aren’t – in the standing-room-only-behind-the-tall-stoned-guy main floor section! And the balcony was 21+ with a full bar AND servers who took your order.

The Husband enjoying one of those orders.

The show was fantastic (if a little late – at 10:00 I’m usually in bed, not waiting for the headliner). Better yet – we got to stay sitting the whole time! I *hate* standing for concerts! That’s for young’uns. I like my own seat and my own drink and my own space. Harumph.

Saturday dawned early (oh. so. early) but The Boy and The Husband were raring to go – surfing!

It was The Boy’s first time and he nailed it. Look how cool he looks:

By all accounts, he was amazing. He came home jabbering about first and second waves and how he almost died (The Husband assures me he was safe) and how he swallowed salt water and how he can’t wait to go back.

While the boys were hang-tenning (hanging ten?), the girls had their own quest. And it involved costumes!

The elf and the scout. Those straps…so much time…thank goodness for YouTube tutorials!

We were off to ComicCon!

Such fun! All the other costumes were super amazing and there was a ton to see in the exhibit hall. But I was there for the panels. The lineup definitely skewed Whovian (I’ve heard Portland has a relatively high number of Doctor Who fans). We got to see these guys:

Picture shows: Captain Jack (JOHN BARROWMAN) TX: BBC ONE

Rory, River, Captain Jack, AND the Eleventh Doctor?! Be still my beating hearts!

Arthur Darvill was cool and funny. John Barrowman was decidedly inappropriate for children (I’d forgotten to warn The Girl that I’d heard his panels got fairly crazy and she spent most of it in horrified laughter). Matt Smith was charming and genuine. But the highlight for me was Alex Kingston. She was beautiful and gracious and witty and so, so lovely. So great!

(Don’t be mad – we skipped Krysten Ritter and William Shatner. I know, I know. But we got there late and went straight to Rory/River and The Girl desperately wanted to walk the show, so like a loving mama, I skipped seeing the good captain. And then died a little when the kids behind me said, “The next show’s William Shatner.” “Who?” “Dunno.” “Oh wait, I think he was in the original Star Trek? Captain Kirk or something?” Sigh.)

And though they weren’t on my list, I got to meet some other favourite folks:

I don’t always break my no-selfie rule, but when I do, it’s for The Stig.

Squeeee!

The triumphant but weary fan girls stumbled home late, caught up with the surfer boys, and we all fell into bed. Sunday held a much-needed sleep-in and a hike. The Husband wanted to go to Mount Tabor, but I refused: “I am overstimulated and I refuse to do anything new today and the only place I’m going is to my beloved state park. You can come if you like.”

And he did.

So we’ve been here for almost eight weeks now, and we’re starting to get the lay of the land. The other day I actually went grocery shopping without the GPS (to which The Husband said, “um, you can see it from our house. Not sure this is really an accomplishment.” Pshhh. There’s a big highway there. It’s tricky).

Anyhoo, even though it’s a relatively short time, we’re starting to notice certain things about Portland. It’s definitely weird, but there were some things we didn’t anticipate.

1. They pump your gas for you.

Oh, does this bring me back! The Husband’s brother pumped gas back in the day and I totes remember going to hang out with him at Dickee’s when I was 14 and I’d sit there drinking a slurpee while he jumped to the pump. But here it’s somewhat less charming. It’s the LAW that someone has to do it for you. But they still have the pay at the pump thing. So you open your window, say “fill please,” hand over your credit card, they do the button pushing and the filling and the receipt-retrieving and then you say thank you. Except it’s not quite that efficient when there’s only one attendant per eleventeen pumps and that person is baked and you’re sitting there for ten minutes with a full tank and the nozzle just waiting to be pulled out.

2. There’s weed everywhere.

If you hadn’t heard, you can buy marijuana recreationally (without a prescription) if you are over 21 in Oregon. And the market has definitely stepped up to meet this new legal demand – every street corner has a dispensary. And every street corner smells. (Per The Girl: “wow, it smells like my school here.”)

3. You’re only five minutes from the forest.

This is an amazing thing about Portland. You’re never buried in the concrete jungle. I’m routinely astonished by driving somewhere and making a turn and suddenly I’m surrounded by moss-covered trees and misty woods.

4. The beer game is strong.

So. Much. Beer. This is the beer selection at the little grocery store a few blocks from us where I walk to grab a couple of things for dinner:

(Pretty much the only thing between me and 30 pounds of beer belly at this point is Portland’s love of the IPA, which isn’t to my taste and somewhat narrows my choices.)

5. The traffic game is not strong.

Portland has the strangest intersections I’ve ever seen. They make no sense. They’re poorly lit, poorly controlled, and definitely not on any kind of grid. Between the angles and the bushes, you’re surrounded by blind spots. And since you’re pretty much always crossing a bike lane and it’s always raining and dark, you’ve got to keep your wits about you.

6. People crash into buildings.

Not sure if this is simply a result of number 5 or a combo of 5 and 2, but every couple of weeks there’s a story about someone driving their car into someone’s livingroom. Don’t believe me? Proof, proof, and more proof. All within the last two months. And there are more out there!

So pretty much I sit around drinking beer after a long hike and wait for a car to come crashing through the front window.

We had a long weekend here at Chez PM and filled it with lots of stuff!

First, brunch! Because brunch is the best meal ever. I googled “best brunch Portland” and got over 1100 hits – definitely a foodie town. (Completely overwhelming, too. In Minneapolis, I could get by with a weekly perusal of the Taste section and feel like I was in the know. Here? I don’t even know where to start.)

However, start we did, and it was a good one at Arleta Library Cafe.

Look at that potato dish! Just look at it! Seventies kitchen anyone?

On Saturday a hike. (Are y’all getting tired of my hiking pictures? They look the same. But they’re all different trails, promise!)

We passed a house where the owner made totem poles. And then we made it to the top of Council Crest, where the carved quotation says “And still, seeking the larger view, we gather here to gaze upon Portland…”.

A larger view indeed.

In random fun, we visited friends from back home (Minnesota home not Canadaland home) and they had horses! And there was brushing.

More history? Okay! The Girl and I visited Pittock Mansion yesterday – home to Henry Pittock, early Portland big-wig and newspaper baron.

I’d totes cook in here. Especially with that view!

The library!

Totally amazeballs, yes? And overall an amazeballs weekend! (Don’t worry – I’m sure we won’t be able to keep up this pace of adventures. One of these weekends it’ll just be pictures of me and my Kindle. But I’ll take them in various places in the house just to keep it interesting.)

I took myself on a date the other day. I had a few hours to kill before meeting The Husband downtown for lunch, so I decided to go to one of my newest favouritest places on earth.

Oh Powell’s, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love it that you are so big that you provide a map for the newbies.

I love that you stock both new and used books, right beside each other, so I can decide whether I want to pony up for non-dog-eared or whether I’m okay with less than pristine.

I love that you colour-code your rooms. And that the “Coffee Room” has an actual coffee shop in it.

I love how smart you are and how everything is exactly where you’d expect to find it. And how you use alphabet dividers so I don’t have to remember if P comes before or after R.

Honestly, it really doesn’t get much better than a coffee, two hours, and wandering through a rainbow of reading rooms.

Such a fun weekend! We had our first guests (they gave the guest bed five stars, so looks like Hotel PM is officially an “it” destination) and they’d never been to Portland before, so we jammed a ton of adventures into two short days.

Saturday started with a few Portland classics in The Pearl – Powell’s and Voodoo Doughnuts.

Food carts for lunch, walking along the waterfront, and then a new favourite – Punch Bowl Social where they have karaoke rooms!

(Before and after – karaoke is thirsty work…)

After getting on our Journey and our Les Mis, we headed off to hipsterville. Did you know that there is a store that sells only light bulbs? We did not buy light bulbs. But we did buy pizza.

Sunday was one of those days that you can’t quite believe you are lucky enough to experience. It was sunny and warm, and all around us Portlanders were emerging from their doorways, eyes squinting at that foreign bright thing in the sky.

We took the munchkins on an amazing hike in Forest Park.

And it was a literary hike, too! We were on the Wildwood trail and we saw the Witches’ Castle and Pittock Mansion!

(If you haven’t heard of Wildwood, it’s a fabulous kids’ book series written by Colin Meloy [lead singer of the Decemberists] and I’d say it’s got the most amazing use of verbs I’ve ever read. Truly, it is delightful. It’s set in a thinly-veiled Forest Park and there’s all sorts of real-life places you can visit. If you haven’t read it yet, do it stat, and then come visit me and I will take you there for reals!)

And what would a day in Portland be without some excellent food? There’s something for every type of dietary restriction, and we loved watching our gluten-free guest’s eyes sparkle when she went into Tula Bakery and realized she could eat anything on the menu she wanted!!

(Yes, I had soup at a bakery. Don’t judge)

It was far too short of a visit, but we had a super fun, whirlwind tour and crammed oodles of love and laughing into it.

Who’s up next?

We went to the beach on Saturday! It’s positively thrilling looking at the map and tracing the short line between Portland and the coast. Plus I’ve been inspired by articles about kids not getting outside enough. So alas for them, this weekend was a “we’re having a family adventure and you’re coming whether you like it or not” affair.

The kids did NOT want to “waste” their Saturday being outside (of all the rotten things, right?) so the 1.5 hour drive there was pretty grumpy. And they were pretty peeved about having to hike from the car to the beach. But once we forced them up to the trail head, they started to come around.

And once they started to glimpse the for reals ocean through the trees, they started muttering, “this is actually pretty cool…”

Those jump shots are harder than they look!

At first The Girl played it safe with activities:

But then she and I learned some important lessons about waves and how sometimes they are higher than you expect:

(We pretty much all managed to get ourselves soaked. Oh well.)

Had lunch in a cute little resort town (Cannon Beach) and did a bit more beaching. Then home through Astoria and a stop at a brewery for beer and cheese curds.

Then a long drive home and an 80s pop singalong (pretty sure my kids are the only teens who know the lyrics to Summer of 69 and Livin on a Prayer. Lucky ducks.) Both kids came home saying “that was the BEST day!” – success!