Should Have...

Would have. Could have. Should have. I wonder if the long pause since the last post is because the next day we ran into something truly disappointing, and I don't want to think about it. I would have rather we stayed in our lovely Airbnb, with the wisteria, crows, and cats. I wish we could have checked in at Old Portland Hardware. My point is, we never should have bothered staying at McMenamins Kennedy School, because it was a horrible experience. It was so bad, I joined Yelp to warn others, to give an honest, sincere condemnation of a place that treated us so poorly it was almost surreal. It bummed me out so terribly I still feel abused and frustrated about it. I'd heard of this place for years, and it was meant to be a big treat and splurge, something wonderful to complete our time in Portland. By the end of the week, I had already adjusted my sails, and understood, that it's been a hard time for this City, and I approached everything with more compassion, more patience. The neglect, rudeness, incompetance, and outright hostility we were met with at MKS was inexcusable, rampant, and maddening. I've since read other reviews, and talked to people who live there and know the place... and I am not the only one who thinks they are awful. And what a shame, because the location, the concept, the art and whole unique concept of a hotel in an old school is great. Indeed we have no complaints at all about chalkboards and art, about coat rooms and old wooden floors. The soaking pool? Lovely! But not a single person there has any idea about guest service, hospitality, basic manners, or job competancy. Argghh... there it is, again, the feeling of being ill-used, disrespected. It's no wonder I haven't wanted to think about this part of our journey.

Before we turned in our key, we took one last stroll through the neighborhood where we stayed in an Airbnb. This feels much better, actually. Just recalling how much I love the walks here, makes me breath easier, and feel awe and wonder. I love the gardens, the walls, and gates, the deep porches, and long driveways, the shade trees, and storybook home fronts. We saw a couple more cats, mostly watching us from window perches. I picked up a couple more sticks, maybe a feather.

I love what Francis says, about Love, and Diversity, Respect, and Welcome. I love fairy gardens... and I may have an even softer heart for the ones that have weathered a storm, and could use a little dusting off, and kind attention. I love the glimpses, hints of lives and stories behind doors, through windows, where cats watch us, where lights glow softly, and I imagine I hear a soft patter of activity in the kitchen, voices mingling. I love fine things lovingly made, that have a patina of time and good use, the places rust touches, where moss grows, where song birds perch, and neighbors amble by, stop and chat, smile.

We went back to some favorite places, including Alberta Arts. I could never get enough of Maggie Rudy's Green Bean Book display! And I am so glad we returned, because the display moves! And it's lit. I might have to make a Reel on Instagram with video I took. (I did it! I made a Reel of Maggie Rudy's art installation, and it's on Instagram.) We got to go in the shop, too. And the clerk working had a book recommendation for Maria. And I decided it's about time I read a Beverly Cleary book. Actually, I put two and two together, and learned that I had read one of her books, as a child, Runaway Ralph! Well, now I have the prequel, and some Ramona Quimby, as well. I don't think I will ever lose my taste for bookshops, especially independent and captivating ones, like Green Bean.

Every single time I have come to Portland, I have been mindful that it's special, that I am lucky and feel lucky to be there. And I always question, Will I be back? Will I be that lucky? I assume that I won't get to return, that this will be my last visit. That feeling was strong this visit, with the suspicion that I may be overstaying, the thought, too that perhaps I should keep my good memories, and let that be enough. I don't know, I suppose I should admit I can be superstitious, or that I have muddled ideas about luck and happiness being finite. Not that I want to believe that it can run out, but I find I am not so trusting, secure. Why do I find too much happiness makes me a little nervous?

Sometimes, like when I ignore superstitions, and push past nervous inclinations, I find tremendous happiness, and good fortune! Guess what! I have a happy ending to share.

The Doggo is home. All thanks to Puanani, who lives in Portland, though not particularly near the shop where I left my doggo behind. Thank you, Puanani! And thank you Bobbie L for offering to stop off and transport Doggo on your way back from taking your son up to his apartment. That would have been an incredible journey for you to share with a little needlepoint dog. I really appreciate your offer. And! Thank you, Dayle, for your very thoughtful message, for thinking of getting the Doggo for me. Knowing you would have done such a thing for a *stranger* gives me a bittersweet rememberance of lovely Teresa, and how much she loved and appreciated you. You two are an inspiration to so many of us.

Now I have this curious little creation, and it's even hanging up.... and I think it looks good there, too, I want to name her. So, I will be thinking about that. That, and the waning days of summer, how to make the most of the time left before Maria starts school, and it's suddenly September, then October. I don't want to get ahead of myself. In fact, I haven't. I am still in July, in the middle of a journey, with a long drive home ahead of me! Maybe something from the rest of the trip will inspire a name for the Doggo.