What do you do when you find yourself alone on a rainy evening in Portland’s Pearl District? Why go to the biggest independent bookstore in the world, of course.
After a fun weekend with Baby Girl and her sorority sisters, I was to meet up with Sweet Miss in Portland. She was flying back from a quick visit with high school friends, and so I had a few hours to kill on my own.
After wandering a bit, I looked up through the rain to see the big Powell’s sign just down the street. I was in luck, I’d visit the City of Books. After browsing awhile, I found the travel section and picked up a few pocket guides for our summer trip and then hiked up the stairs in search of a crochet dictionary—no luck. But I did find a copy of Blueprint Crochet Sweaters by Robyn Chachula; I’ve only checked it out from the library half a dozen times.
Over dinner, I read about Vienna and then noticed a text from Sweet Miss. She was still waiting for her flight out of Denver but suggested picking up a few bridal magazines. So I paid the bill and headed the two blocks back to Powell’s. Wouldn’t you know? The bridal magazines were back up by the knitting and crochet section adjacent to a wonderful author talk that had just started. Magazines in tow, I sat down in one of the chairs and listened to author Jess Thomson talk about her food adventures in the Pacific Northwest, in the midst of dealing with her son’s health concerns, while her marine biologist husband traveled to distant shores. It’s all part of her touching book, A Year Right Here. Book talks like these are one reason I hope local bookstores never disappear.