We live in SE, in Happy Valley., next to Pleasant Valley. Oddly, the people in Pleasant Valley are happy and the people in Happy Valley are pleasant, but not the other way around. Go figure. I suppose that “contrariwise, if it was so, it might be; and if it were so, it would be; but as it isn’t, it ain’t. That’s logic.”
We are near Mt Talbert and I try to hike the park at least once a month to see the seasons change. It is an interesting park. I use the Sunnyside entrance (only 6 parking places) to start the hike. The North side is all cedar and sword ferns. As you walk around the mountain it transitions to firs then oaks and meadows. There are a few explanatory placards on the hike and and in the spring there are all sorts of wild flowers. You have to watch carefully for views through the trees if you want to see any panoramas. This hike we saw a young buck deer eating fallen apples. A great urban hike.
One kvetch. There is a sign at the trailhead that specifically says no dogs in the park.
Dogs are not allowed, because they can damage sensitive habitat and threaten wildlife. Thank you for your cooperation and understanding.
A simple declarative sentence with a reasonable explanation. And I have yet to hike the park and not found someone out with their dog. I suppose to be a dog owner is to be unable to read.
So this is the question. Who is the bigger diminutive of Richard, the person who insists on smoking a joint at a concert or the person with their dog in a no dog nature park? Both are manifestations of one of the downsides of living in Portlandia.
After the hike we needed dinner. Who wants to cook on a Saturday night and, with an Oregon game at 7 the local bars will we filled with Oregon fans drowning their sorrow. Although an Oregon grad, I think I am going to jump off this bandwagon. They may win but the magic is gone. I am not that big a college football fan, so let me know if they get good again so I can jump back on the bandwagon. At least I have the Blazers come hell or high water.
When young, the kids were fans of Thai, specifically chicken satay and sticky rice, so when we had the urge for Asian food we usually ended up at Thai restaurants. The kids also loved Panda Express for Chinese food, so authenticity was not high on their list.
Now that they are gone we get to indulge in foods outside the kids comfort range. If food were compared to drugs, I would put Bahn Mi on the top of addicting foods. With Best Baguette on the way home it is a weakness I can indulge in with frequency.
Kerry suggested Pho Huy which is the neighborhood. Good call. The atmosphere is basic restaurant, with Vietnamese music/TV for background noise. Soulful love songs by young men are the same in every culture. There are human universals.
I had the stir fried rice noodles with chicken with a Singha lager. It looked like every teriyaki stir fry I have every had (the noodles not the beer) but tasted nothing like teriyaki, savory and flavored with cilantro and other spices. It was a bit of a disconnect, the food not tasting at all like I expected, only better.
This blog continually reminds me of the biggest problem: go back to tried and true places or try someplace new. Kerry pointed out the numerous asian restaurants on 82nd and Powell, including a packed Korean BBQ restaurant. So many places, so little time.