On Friday, some friends and I went to the event blogged about here, our friend's solo show and the kickoff party for the Stumptown Comics Festival. The next day, four of us were sitting at a kitchen table, after dinner, talking. We had eaten greens cooked with preserved lemons and Varanasi Dal (which has green mango in it; I wasn't a fan and I think I just had too heavy of a hand with the asafetida when I made it. The greens-and-lemons, on the other hand, were fabulous.)
We talked about the show; another friend showed me a book with one of her stories in it. All four of us talked about our work and how it was improving and increasing. We talked about things that were going well socially. We talked about how Portland was turning into home.
"Things are happening!" my friend exclaimed.
Three pairs of eyes lit up and, as we were about to exclaim, "You're right!", he finished his sentence.
"...on the stove!"
Behind us, the fussing of a pot of boiling beets had grown from a low grumble to loud muttering. The lid was beginning to bounce and clang. Things were happening on the stove. The beets' owner sprang to the stove to remedy the situation.
Only momentarily let down, the three of us insisted, "But things are happening in Portland, too. They are."
As an example of things that are happening, I will be blogging soon about the thing in this picture.