Okay, so we get to Portland safe and sound. We visited the Saturday market and wandered through downtown. Then we came to the most glorious, wonderful, we're talking shooting-rainbows-and-unicorns-out-its-windows-it's-that-freaking-great mecca of a book store.
Powell's Book Store.
Let me write that in the font and color in which it should be written:
Powell's Book Store
(I'm going for a heavenly glow here folks)
Suddenly the heavens parted and it stopped raining on us and we're standing there in our own circle of sunlight with a choir of aaaahhhhh! singing in the background. (okay, the singing may have been me and I may have embarrassed Mike a little, but the occasion called for it. It did! Where are you going? Come back, I promise not to sing again).
We enter this temple and I am instantly hooked. The smells, the sights, the sounds. It's so great. It is just how a bookstore should be. Plain bookshelves weary from the hundreds of novels they house. Shelves reaching so high even Inspector Gadget's go-go-gadget arms can't reach without a ladder (or I guess his go-go-gadget legs, which he probably never leaves home without). And the books! My God the books! Paperbacks and hardbacks crammed in next to one another with no real order except the author's last name. New and used books sharing the same breathing space. Literary giants next to small, quirky writers. I laid down on the floor right there and did snow angels.
And the best part? Digging through stacks of books to find the right one. Finding that special book whose pages are worn with reading and re-reading. The one with the simple covers of years ago. We loaded our arms with as many books as we could hold. And, after several hours and multiple reminders over the PA: "the store is now closed, please leave" and "we mean it, we're closed" and "please lady, we've got families to go home to" we made our way to the cashier and blissfully floated out of the store.
We wandered around with rainbows and unicorns shooting out our ears for a while after that. Starry-eyed and dazed at the experience we just had.
We finally emerged from our Powells coma and found VooDoo Doughnuts. We got a box - a box - of doughnuts and made our way back to the car. Side note: my favorite doughnut was called the Old Dirty Bastard; it was a regular doughnut with Oreo cookies and peanut butter on top (which brought on another coma).
We stayed the night at the Kennedy School - an elementary school built in 1915 which is now used as a hotel. We stayed in Classroom #23, or "The Fox Room." Perhaps named after me since I am so foxy. Wonder how they knew I was coming though... Anyway, it was an awesome place.
Powell's Book Store.
Let me write that in the font and color in which it should be written:
Powell's Book Store
(I'm going for a heavenly glow here folks)
Suddenly the heavens parted and it stopped raining on us and we're standing there in our own circle of sunlight with a choir of aaaahhhhh! singing in the background. (okay, the singing may have been me and I may have embarrassed Mike a little, but the occasion called for it. It did! Where are you going? Come back, I promise not to sing again).
We enter this temple and I am instantly hooked. The smells, the sights, the sounds. It's so great. It is just how a bookstore should be. Plain bookshelves weary from the hundreds of novels they house. Shelves reaching so high even Inspector Gadget's go-go-gadget arms can't reach without a ladder (or I guess his go-go-gadget legs, which he probably never leaves home without). And the books! My God the books! Paperbacks and hardbacks crammed in next to one another with no real order except the author's last name. New and used books sharing the same breathing space. Literary giants next to small, quirky writers. I laid down on the floor right there and did snow angels.
And the best part? Digging through stacks of books to find the right one. Finding that special book whose pages are worn with reading and re-reading. The one with the simple covers of years ago. We loaded our arms with as many books as we could hold. And, after several hours and multiple reminders over the PA: "the store is now closed, please leave" and "we mean it, we're closed" and "please lady, we've got families to go home to" we made our way to the cashier and blissfully floated out of the store.
We wandered around with rainbows and unicorns shooting out our ears for a while after that. Starry-eyed and dazed at the experience we just had.
We finally emerged from our Powells coma and found VooDoo Doughnuts. We got a box - a box - of doughnuts and made our way back to the car. Side note: my favorite doughnut was called the Old Dirty Bastard; it was a regular doughnut with Oreo cookies and peanut butter on top (which brought on another coma).
We stayed the night at the Kennedy School - an elementary school built in 1915 which is now used as a hotel. We stayed in Classroom #23, or "The Fox Room." Perhaps named after me since I am so foxy. Wonder how they knew I was coming though... Anyway, it was an awesome place. The next day we visited the Grotto, which is a Catholic sanctuary, Pittock mansion, the world's smallest park and...wait for it.... wait for it....
We visited Powells again! I am now among the league of addicts. Seriously. If I could snort the whole store, I would.
I feel your bliss!! There is nothing like an awesome book store! I bet you'll miss that when you move back to SL- we have SO few good book stores here.
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