Woke up this morning to the soft sound of rain on the roof, and on the leaves of the tree outside the open window.
"I'm in Portland, to be sure," I'd told my host the evening before. It was the feeling of the house, the curve of the arch above the passageway leading to the dining room, and above all, the smell. All the houses in Portland seem to have that pleasant smell, I explained.
The only drawback---no coffee in the house. I had make quick trip down Burnside for my java fix. A little bit further trip than shuffling into the hotel lobby for their continental breakfast. On the other hand, I could sleep as late I wanted to without missing the standard 6:00-9:30 window, dozing on and off through several rounds of the rain in Sunday decadence.
Well, you can't have it all, can you?
No comments:
Post a Comment