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Aboard the Pineapple Express

One of the nerdy things I love most in the world is “collecting” regional nicknames for weather systems. I’ve lived in a lot of different places, and have first-hand experience with such things as the Nor’easter, the Albuquerque Low, the Alberta Clipper, and Blood Rain (which, I’ll admit, is as freaky as the name; watching rust-colored droplets fall from the sky and stain every surface—including you—is a disturbing experience).

Here we get the occasional visit from the Pineapple Express—a holiday guest from the South Pacific that overstays its welcome and eats everything in your fridge. And it thanks you with the gift of a warm bath—a gift that keeps on giving: namely, torrential rains, washed-out roads and rails, snowmelt at all but the very highest elevations, and areas of flooding which include, right at this very moment, our basement. (Not to worry; for us, at least, the rain trickles in, gathers in an interesting map of puddles, and trickles back out again when the storm subsides. And for all the well-meaning people who offer us unsolicited remodeling advice, it serves as an excellent illustration of our resolve never to have a finished basement.)

Anyway, while I concede that it made the drive more … er, interesting, the Pineapple Express served as an oddly fitting companion on my trip to Portland yesterday.

For one thing, it gave sudden and perfect context to one hilarious interpretation of a Christmas tree.

It made the bright spots glow—

and turned even the most nauseating corporate decor into a sea of color.

It got the old mental wheels turning by inviting me indoors, from a dose of crafty goodness,

to an entire museum devoted to another kind of craftiness.

And with nothing but a soggy hike waiting outside, it inspired me to take my time and have a good, long look at what I found.

It encouraged me to visit a favorite bakery—

—and warm up over a well-rounded lunch (sorry).

It gave me an excuse to duck into the best bookstore in the entire universe.

And just as daylight waned, it helped a certain somebody’s nose glow oh-so-bright.

Oh, and then, as I walked back to my car for the drive home, it made this song pop into my head. After all, paddling home in a canoe might have been a little more efficient!