April 19, 2021: Never Odd or Even

Many a milestone today. Oregon finally opened up vaccinations to people 16 to 64, and my buddy who has been most stalwart about not bucking the line became eligible to get vaccinated. I’d told her about getting up super early for a drugstore slot, and she got one booked, in Salem, for the end of the month. A few hours later, she found a slot at OHSU  for later this week, except it isn’t exactly booked, because the site won’t do the Captcha. It’s possible too many people are on there at once, or something else is broken. Maybe it will recover by tomorrow. But it doesn’t look totally solid just yet, so it seems smart to hang onto the Salem appointment for now.

And then by bedtime, she’d gotten the email from OHA. So – three offers by the end of Day One. Impressive, and I have to say, it could not happen to a nicer person.

I, being fourteen whole months older than she is, am already entirely marinated – two shots plus two weeks, which ended Saturday. I am giddy with delight, planning get-togethers with friends, and supporting the local economy like a madwoman. (That’s just what we call spending money now: supporting the local economy!) In the past two days, I’ve supported Providore on Sandy; Powell’s, Top Ten, and Imelda’s on Hawthorne; and Pure Spice out on 87^th. I was set to support the great gelato place, Pinolo, on Division, but they are closed on Monday. Ah, well. Another time.  

We are not alone in our self-congratulation about supporting the local economy! I biked past a house today where they are so proud about it, they have put two signs lauding their own spending habits in their front yard. They PLEDGE to SHOP LOCAL. Not locally, mind you. LOCAL.

This was in Sellwood, and that little sticker at the bottom of the sign specifies that by “local” they mean “Sellwood.” I got there by availing myself of the new pedestrian overpass on 15^th, which leaps over the mess of train tracks and the orange MAX line,  and which even has an elevator for bikes. (While I was waiting for the elevator, a hotshot pulled up, hoisted his bike, ran up the many, many stairs instead, across the overpass, and down the other side. Show off.)

Once I’d made it over the train tracks, I realized I had no idea what to do. On a whim, I followed a (different) bicyclist who looked like he knew where he was going. I passed a painted palindrome, and recognized it as such: NEVER ODD OR EVEN.

(It's hard here to see the N on NEVER, but no matter where you stand, one of those poles obscures a letter.)

And sticking to the bike lane, I ended up in Sellwood! A whole new route! I felt like the Ingenuity taking flight on Mars (another historic milestone today)! 

The greenway, once you get across the six lanes of  McLoughlin (you do get a light for crossing that beast), is wonderful, all quiet streets and endearingly artsy yards. 

I’d forgotten how great Sellwood is.  

I supported the Blue Kangaroo coffee shop, because I'm a good citizen that way, and also as a reward for being intrepid and trying something new. Does that kangaroo have a mug of hot coffee in her pouch?

And then tonight, flush with self-confidence, I made custard, which I had attempted only once before, unsuccessfully. You have no doubt made custard many times, and can’t see how a person could screw it up. All I can say is, sweet scrambled eggs. Anyway, today was my day. I now have a lot of utterly delicious custard cups. If you come over, I will not only give you a custard cup and a spoon, I will let you in  the house. I haven’t said that for a year.