A bit of rain...perhaps?

Maybe? A smidge. We're not saying a lot. Heck, it may not rain at all. Just...maybe...a bit.
This is what the Portland area weather forecasters have been reduced to. I used to laugh at the weather reporters on TV in LA because, well, how hard is their job? With the exception of maybe four or five days out of the year, all they really have to do is guess what time the sun will be hot enough to fry an egg. But here, in P-Town, Mother Nature likes to mess with them.
The first two months we were here, it was a summer like we would have had in LA. Fifteen days over 100 degrees, and most days over 90. Not a spot of rain. Then the game began.
About three weeks ago, network meteorologists started threatening huge storms, saying fall had arrived and would soon be dumping sheets of rain on us. Like a taunting child, fall arrived with cold nights and cloudy mornings that were quickly chased away by brilliant sunshine. Then the weather folks started changing their tune a bit.
A week ago, the report ran "Rain to start on Monday and not end until the weekend." Monday came, as all mornings do now, with cold temps and gray clouds. By mid-day, the clouds were replaced by blue skies and bright sunshine. Each night, local news reported that the rain would be upon us the following day. Each day, the sun came back like it had the day before.
Friday, the reports were firm--"Fall's first big rain to hit tonight and last through Saturday." We were excited. We had been waiting for a great storm. That's one of the reasons we moved here, to see real weather at its most dramatic. Friday night was clear and cool, and when we awoke on Saturday the sun was shining through the little wisps of clouds.
Finally, when Saturday's weather staff had given up and were not about to call rain one more time, it rained. A cool, steady shower of liquid sunshine that started late in the morning and lasted most of the day. Nothing terribly dramatic. No lightning or thunder. Just a warm, gentle introduction to what could be the opposite of last fall/winter here.
Apparently, the local meteorologists hold a convention every year in early fall to discuss and forecast the coming season. According to Saturday's paper, their conclusion from the recent assembly was that this fall and winter could be unseasonably warm and mild. I am amused that they came to this conclusion only after several days of bogus forecasts. As they tell it, last year's onslaught of snow and rain was a result of La Nina; this year, El Nino is predicted to bring warmer and dryer weather. Doesn't that figure? Here we are, ready for the Northwest to show us its best, and we may end up having just another California Christmas.
Having been spoiled with such idyllic weather for so many weeks, we faced a dilemma on Saturday. Do we go to the Farmers Market at PSU? I mean, it's RAINing! How does one shop OUTdoors in the RAIN? We almost decided not to go, and instantly we felt sad like we were missing our one and only chance to see a good friend before they left town. So we went. And so did the rest of Portland. It was so cool to be there getting rained on with hundreds of other people supporting our local growers and stocking up on the week's fresh fare. What I found really cool was that the menu is changing. Suddenly, we have an abundance of beautiful gourds, butternut squash, delicata. One of the vendors had sauteed some delicata up with olive oil and salt and pepper and was serving it up with chips. It was sweet and aromatic and just tasted of autumn. Mushrooms were also in abundance and had more names than I ever knew existed. Every farmer had shiitakes, but they also each had a good four to six other varietals, all with their own distinct appearance and fragrance. The early leafy greens are still around in limited supply but are being crowded out by chard and radicchio and baby bok choy, which is just fun to say. All of the vendors were excited to show off their new harvests and offer samples, and the customers were equally ecstatic to try the new goodies.
One vendor grows mint in what must be a ten-acre field. She has cans upon cans of mint tea and bags of her own home-made peppermint patties. And, as always, there were the apple sellers. I have never seen such an array of apples with different colors and textures and flavors. We love the honeycrisps. Our new favorite pear is something like a Bosc but smaller, rounder, crisper and sweeter. Too bad I can't remember the name. I do, however, remember, the young man of about ten who was handing out samples and offering small boxes for only $4.00. Whether it was the pear's delightful crunch or the boy's salesmanship I am unsure, but Tommy was sold; and when he bought a basket from the older sister, the boy, undoubtedly excited to have made a sale, barked at his sister to "throw another pear or two in that basket. Fill it out a little." This made the purchase so much more worth while. You just don't get that kind of entertainment at Safeway.
After the market, we went to see Where the Wild Things Are. For the first time since we have been here, there was a LINE at the theater. The boy who stars in the movie is from Portland, so it's a pretty big deal up here. We enjoyed the movie but decided it is really not for kids. I won't be too quick to dismiss the film for grown-ups though. While it was not exactly what I expected, it did offer some evocative food for thought about growing up and the pain and difficulty of having and dealing with emotions. Some of us are still learning those lessons. Not me, of course. I have been blissfully emotion-free since the operation in '81.
Anyway, a new week begins. As always, thank you for reading and for commenting. Here's wishing us all a fun and productive new week.