On the Fourth of July, I was so tired I thought I might crawl into bed at 9PM. I was inside working on the house when Carrie drove over to pick up Oatie. She noticed that there were fireworks going on all over Portland. Quite a lot across the street from my house and really going on in 360 degrees as we spun around. She walked back over and we sat outside with our chairs and the dogs, and then walked down the street to catch a phenomenal street show just a few blocks from our home. People were gathered all along the sidewalks watching. So we shared in the fireworks and took Bailey and Oatie. They both enjoyed it and people were amazed they weren't spooked by the noises. Bailey practically skipped home- I think he thought it was such a treat to be out so late. The next day he didn't get up til about 1PM after his late night.
Fireworks are illegal in Portland, but today I had a police officer in today and asked him about it. He said, "As long as they aren't doing anything stupid, we leave them alone." I think that is sort of the mantra of life in Portland. Like parking your cars on the wrong side of the road. Or driving a little fast. Or smoking weed.
It was a good Fourth.
Jessie came to town last week. Aka The Basement Bitch. She was a college student who rented a room in my mom's basement for a couple years in Minot. We became friends when I was visiting my mom for about 6 weeks between my time in New Zealand and my time in Germany.
She and I had a busy week--- and she also got to hang out with Carrie and Justin. Her first few days were spent on the Oregon coast with friends and then she took the train back to Portland. I picked her up and we headed off to Powell's books, where we promptly ended up in the "Lusty" section. They're busy remodeling Powell's, so I didn't know where anything was at. Yeah, that explains it...
In other unrelated Portland weirdness, we saw three guys dressed up like the Ghostbusters when we first pulled out of the train station. Unfortunately we were too dumbfounded to get our cameras out in time to snap a photo. Later when I was trying to find the Small Press Books section in Powell's, I stopped an employee, who was wearing a ghostbusters shirt... I got all excited thinking there was a convention or something. But alas it was just a strange coincidence. Darn. 
The second day, we trekked up the St Johns Bridge (where the Real Hippies live) and over to the Pittock Mansion for some excellent city views. Lazy Sunday 16-mile bike ride (Jessie wanted to go for it!)-- was the culmination of the weekend. It was a very sweet visit... 
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