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My Planet: Portland, Oregon



My hometown, the City of Roses, the place where - even years after leaving - still gives me the ache of familiarity when I go back to visit, and no matter how it evolves and changes far from the town I grew up in, is the core of who I am, of where I built my foundation…the place I grew up, lost my father to another family, became an artist, fell in love, bought my first home, created my first vegetable garden, became a chocolatier, opened my own consulting business, spent a beautiful summer pregnant with our little one who left us too early, and dreamed so many dreams for my future - some which were realized beyond my wildest expectations, others which died by the wayside over the years.



The seemingly millions of trips to the rose gardens with my dad as a girl, from the big one the tourists love to the less famous but equally impressive one at Peninsula Park near my home in walking distance from two of my grandmothers, they left their impression on me. I have twelve or thirteen new rose bushes recently planted in my garden, from rugosa to hybrid to climbers, of every color imaginable, from ones I’ve never tried to my gram’s favorite Double Delight and my dad’s Mister Lincoln that once grew over 6’ in his backyard in his house in the ‘burbs, to the favorites I’ve found over the years, like the coral one we grew in our Emerald City cottage, or the purple one I brought from my first home to our coastal farm. Every time one blossoms, more hope appears, and I am more connected to my home, my roots….and able to look further.


“Did you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the concrete? Proving nature's laws wrong, it learned to walk without having feet. Funny, it seems to by keeping it's dreams; it learned to breathe fresh air.” ~ Tupac Shakur

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