Weekend: Sarah's Visit & Adventures Henceforth

As a part of our Christmas present, my sister Sarah flew almost 500 miles to visit Jason and I in our new Oregon home this Janaury.  The morning she arrived, I had a job interview at 10:30 am, but when I returned home Sarah was there waiting for me.  It is hard to describe, the connection between sisters, and even though I had just seen her at Christmas, it was too long to be apart. 

Friday

We ate a quick lunch, I changed out of my matches-with-my-eyes-please-hire-me-blue business blazer, and we got in the car and headed west on Highway 22 towards the Tillamook Cheese Factory, the coast, and fresh clam chowder.  We navigated the curving highway as it bent around groves of giant pines and fields of sheep, thick with wool.  Sarah reflected on the smell of Oregon which she distinguished as soon as she stepped off the plane.  I told a story from a job interview I'd had earlier in the week, in which one of the interviewers said, "Everyone wonders why coffee is such a big thing in the Northwest, but it's because we have no sun to help wake us up."  Jason commented on the many old broken-down VW bugs and vans that layered several junk-yard lawns of houses we passed.  By the time we got to the Cheese factory, I had received two calls and had been offered the job from my morning interview and had been asked back to a second interview for a different position, the sun was shining, and we were ready to sample cheese.

Tillamook Cheese Factory-
In this picture the cheese is being sliced from a
huge block, and then packaged for sale.

Sarah and Jason had Tillamook ice cream after our tour of the Cheese Factory and Jason bought some Garlic White Cheddar cheese for us to take home.  We also stopped by a lessor known, but just as interesting cheese site in Tillamook, the Blue Heron French Cheese company.  Here they have a petting zoo, wine-tasting, and a really fun store which includes a coffee shop.  We bought some feta and olive salad dressing and mustard here before heading towards Neskowin beach and Proposal Rock.  It was about 4 pm when we left Tillamook, and we wanted to get to the beach before the sun went down.

Neskowin Beach at Sunset, Oregon Coast.

Neskowin is a very small community which hides a very beautiful beach.  We arrived at the perfect time as the blue-silver light leftover from the setting sun reflected from the sky and from the water-glazed bar of beach, breaking only with the waves between them.  I'd never been here before, but I plan on going back someday to hike up and see the view from the top of Proposal rock.

Sarah on Neskowin Beach.
Sunset, shadow of Proposal Rock,
and a sliver of the moon behind her.

We drove to Lincoln City on our way home, stopped for fresh seafood dinner, and witnessed an Oregon police standoff with alleged Montana robbers.  It was a full Friday.

Saturday

Since Jason and I have been living here, we haven't really spent too much time in Portland except inside IKEA and the airport.  With Sarah here, we decided to spend a day walking around the Portland Pearl District and Pioneer Square area before screaming our faces off at a Trailblazers Basketball Game.  

First stop was a writer/reader's heaven: Powell's Books.  The City of Books location on Burnside in the Pearl district is the biggest used and new bookstore in the world and covers an entire city block.  In the blue room of the store, I picked up "The Crying of Lot 49," by Thomas Pynchon, which I am reading for my book club.  I carried a few other books around with me, just happy to have the paper and authors' words in my hands, but decided to put them back and buy them later.

Powell's City of Books on Burnside in Portland, Oregon.

The next stop, to please our bellies, was VooDoo doughnuts.  We literally had to wait in a line to get some of the famous doughnuts.  We ordered a dozen mix of raised yeast dough and cake doughnuts, some plain and some special doughnuts with names like Captain my Captain, Dirt Doughnut, Marshal Mathers, and Miami Vice Berry.  For a full list of doughnuts, visit their website here.  I'm a believer that all doughnuts are good doughnuts, but I was actually really impressed by the taste and texture of VooDoo's little gems.  Before eating here, I thought all doughnuts tasted pretty much the same, but I can honestly now say that VooDoo's doughnuts are the best I have ever had, surpassing even the Daylight Donuts in Riverton, Wyoming, which were my previous favorites.

VooDoo Doughnuts location at 22 SW 3rd Ave in Portland, Oregon.

 As if we didn't have enough food, after wandering around Pioneer square, shopping and people gawking, we stopped at Brasserie Montmartre for a late, lingering French lunch.  The atmosphere in this restaurant, located in the historic Calumet building, was perfect for warming up after walking through the chilly air for a few hours.  They played easy listening coffee-house music and had pictures of crayon coloring-contest winners adorning their walls from years of holding the contest.

I had green tea and the Maple Braised Pork Crepe with Gruyere, Cippolini Onions, baby Red Potatoes, Fried Egg, and Mixed Greens.  My dish was not only beautiful, but it was the perfect mix of sweet maple and salty pork.  I ate until I could eat no more.

Maple Braised Bacon Crepe at Brasserie Montmartre in Portland.

One of the walls in the restaurant is several exposed layers of brick.  The wall is like this because in 2007 the building was vacant and, in an attempt to break into the vault of the Carl Grieves jewelry store next door, some thieves chipped through the common wall until they hit cement and could get no further.

Chipped wall of the Brasserie Montmartre Restaurant
in Portland.

 After enjoying the Brasserie Montmartre, we walked off what calories we could by trekking towards the Moda Center in the Rose Quarter to watch the Trailblazers play the Philadelphia 76ers.  The sun was setting right as we crossed the Broadway Bridge, and the glow from the surrounding neon of the Union Station and the sunset reflecting off the Willamette river created a soft spectacle of light as we walked.

View of Union Station in Portland at Sunset.

Jason and Sarah Crossing Broadway Bridge in Portland, Oregon.

At the Trailblazer's game, we cheering wholeheartedly for the Portland team, even though they weren't having the best night for hitting shots.  After the first half of the game, the Trailblazers, who were behind, made a come-back, but ended up losing by only two points for a score of 99-101.  It was a difficult loss, but a very exciting game to watch.  We were on the edge of our seats until the very last sounding of the buzzer signifying the end of the game.  The Blazer's fans sulked out the doors into the Portland night, and we crossed the Broadway Bridge again back to our car, and drove home to Salem.

Sarah, Carissa, and Jason at the Trailblazer's Game.
Carissa in her Blazer's logo.  Go Blazers!

Sarah in her Blazer's hat.  Go Blazers!

I found out later this week that my great grandma Lucretia was actually a big Trailblazers fan and she would listen to the games over the radio and watch the games when she could.  My mother told me a story about how a long time ago they had a great organ instrument in the location of the Trailblazers games, and someone would play the music during the game.  Like they do now at half-time, they would announce submitted names of Trailblazer's fans having birthdays or anniversaries.  Once, on my great grandmother's birthday, she was watching a Trailblazer's game, and her name was announced.  Someone had submitted her name, and apparently she got a big kick out of it.  I was so pleased to learn this little tid-bit of family history.

Moda Center. Trailblazers vs. 76ers. January 4, 2014.
We were in the nose-bleeder's section, but the players still looked so tall!

Sunday

On Sunday, Sarah and I spent some time with our grandparents who took us to The Oregon Garden in Silverton, Oregon.  In a previous post, I wrote about going to the Garden before for a Christmas evening event, but this time we got to explore other parts of the grounds in the daylight. One of the most spectacular sections of the garden is the Conifer garden, which is maintained by the American Conifer Society.  The Conifer garden has one of the largest collections of miniature and dwarf conifers in the United States, some of which are one-of-a-kind species from all over the world.

I never really considered the variety and beauty of conifers, but after exploring the different needled plants in the garden, I was impressed by the collection.  There were conifers with needles arranged by nature to be shaped into fans that reminded me of the shape of ocean corral; there were conifers with intense blue colors, mint-green, white colors, and sometimes multi-colors.  I learned that there are such things as deciduous conifers, and, after talking to a member of the American Conifer Society, I learned where to find a mutated conifer outside of Silverton, branches of which have been collected by the individual, grafted onto a root, and is now a whole new species which will be planted in the garden soon.  

Paul's Select Hinoki False Cypress.
The Oregon Garden, Silverton, Oregon.

Snow in the Valley Japanese White Pine.
The Oregon Garden, Silverton, Oregon.

Silver Gnome Korean Fir.
The Oregon Garden, Silverton, Oregon.

After the Garden, we spent the evening watching the Cirque du Solei movie Worlds Away, sipping St. Germain, chatting, and eating Lasagna for dinner.  We convinced Grandpa, though he said he was not a story-teller like his Dad and Brother, to tell us about some of our heritage, which included some history about Catherine the Great and the Volga Germains in Russia.  I also learned that my great-great grandparents might have had communication issues: one spoke German and English and the other only spoke Swedish. 

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Before Sarah left, we spent a few other days together, shopping and laughing and exploring Salem.  We had been lucky with a sunny weekend, but when I drove her to the airport it was gray and rainy.  I felt sorry to see her go, and I already miss her knowing I won't be able to see her next weekend like I almost always did when I was in Boise with her.  It is hard to describe, the connection between sisters, and it was impossible to say goodbye.

When we were shopping before she left, a sales girl asked us if we were twins.  We are not twins, or clones, or perfect doubles, but our hearts are definitely bound tightly, connected closer than Siamese twins.

Sarah and I at Neskowin Beach on the Oregon Coast.

"A sister can be seen as someone who is both ourselves and very much not ourselves- a special kind of double." -Toni Morrison