My wife’s niece is visiting for the weekend. She’s the first relative to stay in our Portland home, and always an enjoyable guest. The excitement of entertaining company always leads to overindulging on food and drink. The moment our welcome guests walk through the door, they are bombarded with offers of wine and snacks, followed by an overview of the itinerary involving all the bars and restaurants on the agenda. A lot of careful planning has gone into this occasion, when we finally get to open that stock of special Oregon wines and return to those favorite local restaurants. We want our valued company to know that we’ve pulled out all the stops just for them.
Let’s face it! When your plan finally comes together, you’re absolutely exhausted and so are they. No one sleeps well. There is too much rich food and not enough Alka-Seltzer. Your recycling bin is filled with empty soldiers, and the refrigerator is overloaded with leftovers. You’ve gained at least five pounds, and still have two days of entertaining left to go. Each day starts with a hangover, as you try your best to act like this is how you normally roll. Out of your mouth comes the words, “Would anyone care for a glass of wine?”
After going through our first bottle of wine upon a late night arrival, we got to bed at a reasonable hour. Our next glass of wine wasn’t until 11:30 the next morning, as part of a winery brunch. After a long afternoon of tastings at three different locations, we were all ready for a nap. Traffic was an issue coming back into town, so there was only time for a quick change of clothes to make our dinner reservation. Our table at the Chart House had a great view of the city. Unfortunately, smoke from nearby forest fires had saturated the air and there was nothing to see but a few distant lights that barely cut through the smog. A couple of poorly made, but still potent martinis, and a bottle of Sancerre, made an investment in an Uber driver worthy, but not before the chocolate lava dessert.
The last day of company started with brunch and couple flutes of Prosesso at the Urban Farmer restaurant in The Nines hotel. I was hoping that the bubbly would settle my stomach from the wine, vodka, and chocolate remnants from trying to keep up with our company. Since the weather was rainy, plans for a hike and more sight-seeing were redirected into shopping. We have a farewell dinner planned for tonight and more wine to uncork. The last stop of the weekend will be at the airport, as life returns to normal until the next time company’s coming. I return to retired life, my wife goes back to work, and her niece should arrive in Atlanta just in time to get to the office in the morning. Fortunately, she’s young!
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